The Demon's Half

Chapter 19

Logan in love with a demon? Ni de pedo.
He was a shaman. Fighting demons was his purpose. And how did Oz even know about it?
This was why Logan was so protective. Why he wouldn't let me so much as breathe in Oz's direction. He was terrified. Not of the demon. Of me. Of what could happen.
Lou had left scars on him. So many questions burned at the back of my throat, but I swallowed them down. Logan didn't owe me answers, not even with the way my feelings for him were starting to drift into dangerous territory.

"That love was cursed," he whispered. He wasn't looking at me. He was staring at his hands. "She took everything from me."

This wasn't just grief. It was loss, hatred, anger, pain... all mixed together. The kind that never goes away. This was pure and undeluded torment. I wanted to reach out.
I wanted to destroy Lou all over again, just to erase the agony she had left behind. But my rage wasn't just for Lou. It was for Ozias too.
Because he was playing with the people I cared about.

"She was the first half of a soul I captured." He griped the rosary resting just above his heart. "And the only demon. She's right here." He tapped the cross.

"Why did Alexander—"

"Alexander?" His tone was close to a growl. I physically flinched. "Do not call him that. That thing's name is Ozias. And he is no man; he is a demon. Do not humanize him! He doesn't deserve a name that doesn't drip in sin."

I opened my mouth to... I didn't even know what for, but Logan continued, "Morgan, the second you start letting him in, start thinking of him as anything less than evil, you've already lost. And from where I'm standing, he's winning."

He pushed back his chair, the sound made the dogs bark. "Do the exercises we practiced," he ordered. Then he walked out and the dogs followed, leaving nothing behind but the sound of my own uneven breathing.

I spent the rest of the afternoon alone in the backyard. The crisp air should have cleared my head, but it only sharpened the ache pressing against my heart. I stood next to the pond, trying not to think. To breathe. Just like Logan taught me. But it was useless. My mind was busy looping his words over and over.
Daisy padded across the yard. But even her warmth wasn't enough for the cold that was freezing my soul.

He was right. Calling the demon by that stupid name had been a mistake, a friendly agreement I shouldn't have made in the first place. He didn't deserve any accommodations or gentleness from my behalf. He was a fucking demon and I was a pendeja for forgetting.

"Morgan." My eyes snapped open, and Elena stood inches away. "Dinner's ready."

Had I skipped lunch all together? How long had I been outside? I brushed the grass off my hands and followed her inside.

And just as expected, dinner was incredibly awkward. The silence at the table made me feel ill. Logan didn't look at me. Not once.
I tried to act like nothing was happening as I told Elena everything, every twisted thing Oz had said. When I mentioned Logan's connection to Lou, she barely reacted. But her advice echoed Logan's: Don't trust the dead.

When dinner was over, Logan disappeared taking Daisy with him. He didn't escort me to my room, like he had so many nights before.

And I felt utterlyalone.

_______________

Sleep wasn't happening.

Every time I closed my eyes, the weight of guilt pressed harder. I tossed, turned, punched my pillow—nothing helped. Logan's face wouldn't leave my head. The way he wouldn't look at me.
After what felt like hours, I went for a small cup of cereal. Anything to drown out the thoughts in my head. But the second I opened my eyes, my breath turned to ice.