The Demon's Half

Chapter 18

¿Qué mierda pasó en el museo?
Everything was clouded. According to Alexander, we shared a soul. What followed was a blur of anger, sobbing, and feeling dirty. I had gone all pinche loca. It was a full-blown breakdown; my mind was crushed. Yet the memories felt incomplete, as if key pieces had been removed.

The little bell above the coffee shop door jingled wildly as I stormed in. Logan was already waiting. Sitting by the window. His plain red t-shirt contrasting his dark skin. He hadn't seen me yet. And for one second, I considered leaving. How could I face him? Now that I knew what I was... damned. Wicked.

His eyes met mine. Before I could even process anything, his arms were around me. Making me feel safer than I had any right to feel. But the truth was drilling a whole in the back of my skull. I couldn't do this. I should go. Flee and never look back. If the demon had half my soul... what did that make me? A demon? Was I beyond redemption?
Then I felt it. His hand. Resting lightly against my back. Bandaged. My throat instantly tightened. He pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. His familiar brown eyes made me realize that maybe I was overreacting... he'd understand. Right?

"Are you okay?"

I forced a smile and nodded. Lies. I was cursed, branded and rotten. "Are you?"

He glanced down at his bandaged hand, flexing it slightly. "I'm better. Like, healed." His gaze snapped back to mine. "It was the demon, wasn't it?" The disappointment in his voice landed like a stab wound. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have let you. What did it cost you?"

"Nothing."

He lifted his injured hand. "These things are never free. What was the cost?"

"He just wanted me to trust him."

"That's not—"

"I just wanted you to be better."

I chewed the inside of my cheek. If he got like this because the demon healed his hand... what would happen if he knew everything?

"Come on," he said. "Let's go home."

"Wait." I turned behind me, but she wasn't there. "I need to talk to Carly. I owe her an explanation."

He sighed. "You're right," he gestured to the table next to us, and we sat. "But I haven't seen her."

Jessica materialized at the edge of the table. Her cheeks flushed pink as she poured coffee into Logan's mug.

"Need anything else?" her voice was a little too high.

Logan glanced up and gave her one of his polished smiles. "Thank you," he lifted his cup.

Jessica's blush deepened. "Morgan, can I get you anything?"

"A coffee with milk and cinnamon, please. Do you know where Carly is?"

"She'll be here soon. I'll bring your coffee right away!" She spun on her heel and disappeared toward the counter.

Logan's expression changed, the easy charm slipping away like a mask peeling off. "So, what happened yesterday?"

My armpits were definitely sweating. What if he ended up hating me? What if I ended up completely alone? Coño, piensa, Morgan.

Suddenly, a delicious smell reached my nose. It was sweet, like roses in full bloom. I turned and—The girl walked like a revelation, not just an entrance. Her hair, copper bright, spilled over her shoulders in waves that caught the light, shifting between flame and gold. Her skin practically glowed. A dusting of freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks.
And... Logan wasn't just looking at her. He was staring. Gawking. Jealousy hit. Hard.
And I hated it. Hated how stupid it was. How unfair. But that didn't stop it from sinking its teeth in. Because she wasn't just pretty. She was drop dead gorgeous. I couldn't even blame him for looking. It was impossible not to. Like watching the first snowfall of the season.