The Demon's Half

Chapter 14

Logan said learning how to breathe was as important as learning how to wield a weapon— doubtful.

But he explained to me it had something to do with the life force energy. "It connects with the energy within," he said. And I was too dumb to even pretend to understand what he was talking about so I decided to nod, and got to the breathing-posture.

Later, dinner with them was a rare kind of comfort—a home-cooked meal I never really had. With my dad, food was always fast food or canned food, whatever was convenient and cheap.
But this was different.

It felt like home. It tasted like home. How was that even possible if I've never had a real home? Ni pinche idea.

The fresh salad set the stage for the main course—rich duck stew and creamy mashed potatoes that melted on my tongue. And for dessert, Elena had made chocolate flan, its silky sweetness the perfect ending to an already perfect meal.

For the first time in my life, I felt full. Not just my stomach, but something deeper.
Sadly, that feeling didn't last.
Elena's endless chatter about spirits took over as we sipped tea, and my stomach felt heavier.
Logan told her everything about the coffee shop. Surprisingly, he left out the part where Ozias almost killed him.

Elena insisted our safest bet was to head to Jessica's party, promising to stay near just in case things went south. Made sense, since she was worried for anyone who might cross paths with him.

Logan tossed out a casual, "I could take him down," earning an eye roll from both of us. She assured us that a group—the council—would be stationed outside, ready to intervene if things went a la mierda.
I stayed quiet as she spoke, but my stomach was not having any of it. The duck I'd eaten felt like it was staging a rebellion.

Logan caught the way my hands clenched in my lap, soothing them as he stood. "We should get ready," he said.

Grateful for the out, I gave him a small smile, then turned to say goodnight to Elena.

I went straight to the shower and stood under the stream, watching the droplets bead on my skin, rinsing away the familiar scent of coffee.
Coffee had always been one of my favorite scents.
It reminded me of the mornings when my father went to work and my mom would watch cartoons with me, coffee on hand.
And the demon apparently knew it.
He was branding me with it. Twisting something I loved into something tainted, something his.

I pressed my palms against the tile, exhaling slowly.
I would make him pay.
His soul would be mine.

Elena lend me a dress that belonged to her daughter. Somehow, it fitted perfectly. The deep green fabric skimmed my knees, cinching at my waist, the color making my hazel eyes look almost gold.
My usually dark hair took on a slight reddish glow under the light.
Thankfully, the dress covered my entire back. The last thing I needed was for anyone to see the scars.
I put on tights for the cold and my boots... aaaaand the boots definitely didn't go with the outfit but there was nothing I could do about it. I wouldn't ask Elena again for more pieces of clothing.

I swiped mascara onto my lashes. Just as I capped the tube, a knock sounded at the door.
And Logan stood there, mouth parting slightly as his gaze swept over me.
For a second, he didn't speak.

"Wow." He said. "You look... wow."

His expression disarmed me in a way I wasn't prepared for.
Heat crept up my neck, blooming across my cheeks. I smoothed my hands over the borrowed dress, suddenly hyper-aware of how it fit, how it made me feel.

"Thank you," I said softly.

It had been so long since I felt anything like this. Beautiful. Wanted. Alive.
Since David's touch, I hadn't worn anything that showed a shape. I drowned myself in my father's clothing. In so many layers and so many fabric. Fabric that didn't smell like me. Fabric that said, 'I'm not yours. Don't look.'
But tonight, standing in Logan's gaze, I felt exposed in a way that wasn't terrifying.