The Demon's Half

Chapter 17

No.
Gods, please no.

My legs wobbled beneath me, but I needed to move, needed to breathe—but the oxygen too sharp in my lungs. I shoved past people, their laughter and chatter blurred and meaningless.

A little boy passed, gripping his father's hand, his other clutching a blue balloon. His wide, innocent eyes met mine, and he smiled.

I couldn't smile back.

How could I?

A demon was my other half.

A creature of nightmares, a murderer, a thing that had shattered my life in ways I couldn't even begin to name.

And we shared a fucking soul.

Bile clawed up my throat, sour and burning, but I swallowed it down. Had it been his plan all along? Not to steal my soul, but to reclaim what was already his?

I stopped to catch my breath. I had always known something was wrong with me. I had blamed bad choices, bad luck, bad circumstances. But not this.

Nearby, the demon stood still as stone, but he wasn't watching me. His cold turquoise eyes were locked onto the little boy.

The demon smiled—a real, genuine smile—as the child walked away with his father. But the boy didn't smile back. He only clutched his balloon tighter and hurried along.

The demon's expression went cold as he turned back to me. Then, as if he hadn't just condemned me to eternal damnation, he took a step closer and extended a hand.

"Are you done?" He asked.

"Am I done?" I repeated. "We share a damned soul."

"Half-damned, at least." He shrugged.

"Half-damned." I spat the words like poison. "You and me. My soul. Which, by the way, isn't even fully mine."

"True." He nodded. Nodded. As if my entire existence hadn't just been rewritten in blood and fire.

I didn't let him finish whatever smug thought was forming behind his lips. I shoved him—hard—palms slamming into his chest. He didn't even budge. Not an inch.

"I would rather die than have anything to do with you," I seethed.

He barely reacted. "Get the fuck over yourself," he said, infuriatingly calm. "No one chose this. We only share a soul."

"Yeah, you're right." I stepped back. "Because I would never choose you."

I didn't wait for his reply. I turned and stormed off, pushing through the crowd without knowing where I was going.

The hallways were alive with noise—laughter, chatter. But the warmth in their voices only made me feel colder. Like I was moving through a different world.

Me lleva la chingada.

Souls were supposed to be scattered, lost to time, to the endless ocean of realms and lives. The odds of two finding each other again were impossible. Elena had drilled that little fact into my brain multiple times.

And yet here I was. Shackled to him.

Was I even like him?
Was there something twisted inside me, too?

It didn't make sense. I had spent my life caring for others—for Mia, specifically.
It wasn't fair.

I kept my eyes down, trying to ignore the families filling the museum, but their happiness felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

A little girl skipped ahead of her parents, tugging them toward the animal exhibit, her laughter bouncing off the walls. A mother knelt to tie her son's shoe, her smile even soft.