She couldn't seem to shut things down though. Exhaustion was eating her alive, fuzzing her brain, making it impossible for her to separate or
distinguish among the individual thought patterns.
A whimper of agony sizzled through her. Not her own pain but another's, blinding and soul deep. A blistering wave of inconsolable grief and rage that brought her to her knees and left her gasping for air:
It wasn't the first time the emotions filling the Law Enforcement Academy had incapacitated her. The recruits were young, some more violent than others. And this late at night their twisted dreams and nightmares reached out to her and tortured her sensitive brain.
This was worse though. Perhaps the mix of exhaustion and her own fears had caused it. Or the stress of attempting to hide the curse that haunted her every step from her superiors while assuring her parents that her shields were developing against the talents she had inherited. Whichever it was, she was left trapped within the pain now, fighting for control.
She dragged herself wearily to her feet, swaying beneath the ru
sh of rage that slammed into her head. The pent-up horror was agonizing to feel. The wail of silent screams, the determination to hold back the nightmare.
Escape. . . The word whispered through her mind.
Freedom It wasn't a word, it was a plea, a soul-deep hunger that shook
her to her core.
With one hand clutched to her head, she stumbled toward the closed double doors that led from the training room. Her vision was dim and unfocused as brilliant shards of light exploded behind her eyelids. Shaking her head, she gripped the metal handle, pushing at the heavy panel as she fought the whimper that built in her throat.
Freedom. . . The scream echoed in her head as her stomach clenched with pain. God, had she ever known such pain? It rose unbidden, whipping through her mind, building in strength as she forced herself into the hallway.
"Whoa! Megan. Sweetheart. Is that you?"
Megan jerked back, nearly falling in her desperation to escape as she fought to focus her gaze on what she knew was the enemy. No, another enemy. She shook her head, fighting to separate herself from the confusing impressions beating at her
But no enemy faced her. Frowning down at her was her father's best friend, former Congressman Mac Cooley. His pale blue eyes were filled with compassion, concern. She shook her head, fighting to clear it, confused by the evil she had felt in his touch.
"Mr. Cooley. " She cleared her throat, fighting for a semblance of
normalcy "I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well. "
She could sense the pain growing stronger. The agony it caused was tearing through her head, ripping her apart.
"You're very pale, Megan. Let me help you to the medic's station. " He moved to touch her once again.
"No. " She shook her head fierce!,: "I'll be fine, really. "
She breathed in deep, pasting a smile on her face as she stared into his pale blue eyes.
Ice. They were cold, bitter chips of frozen malice.
She blinked and it was gone. She saw only concern, only compassion.
"Congressman Cooley?; your helicopter is waiting. " Her head swung around.
There were four others with him. Young people. Or were they old?
Definitely bodyguards: she knew the look. She glanced into the eyes of the one who spoke, a pleasant young man with quiet features and dead eyes.
Rage ate into her stomach, boiling inside it, threatening to spew from her it was so sickening, so painful. Was it his rage? Or another's? Where was it coming from? Her gaze touched on each of the five as she fought to pinpoint the origin of the emotion.
But there was no origin. As always, she couldn't follow the path reaching out to her; she knew only the pain.
"One moment. " Did Mac's voice harden? Did she hear the promise of retaliation in it? She couldn't have. Mac was one of the kindest people she knew.
"I'm fine, Mr. Coolev. " She straightened despite the cold sweat that covered her; the icy stare that seared her.