The Demon's Half

Chapter 21

"One... two... three." Jade huffed, as she pinned my wrists to the ground. "I can't believe it's been two weeks and five days."

I twisted under her grip, but she just pressed down harder. "I mean"—she kept going as I tried to roll her off—"I get that he can't reach you in a guarded zone, but still."

I hooked my leg to her chest and shoved. She tumbled off, and popped back up immediately, grinning like a lunatic.

"I really thought I'd catch a glimpse of that asshole by now." Jade tilted her head, eyes sharp as we started circling each other again. "Not gonna lie, I'm disappointed."

She wasn't the only one. There were no whispers, no smirks, no hauntings. Not even dreams of Mia. Just nothing.
It was weird. And I couldn't understand why I hated it.

One day while practicing with Jade in the backyard, I chased a snake thinking it might be him, but Logan killed it just in case. At first, I told myself I was relieved. But then the silence stretched.
I thought maybe my rosary had something to do with it. So, I stopped wearing it. Still nothing. And that's when I started feeling this weird, empty space inside me. That was the worst part.
Because I wasn't supposed to feel that way about Ozias Dravenkov. And I sure as hell wasn't telling anyone.

The Council was restless too.
Elliot, in particular, looked like he was one wrong answer away from flipping the entire table. According to Jade, he wasn't exactly known for his patience.

"Yeah, well," I panted, sweat dripping down my spine. Asco. "I can't believe it's been three weeks, and I still haven't left this house because everyone outside thinks so freakishly loud."

I lunged for her unguarded left side, my fist slicing through the air—but she was already ducking. Gods be damned, she was fast.

Jade snorted, stepping back. Somewhere along the way, she'd become my friend.
Which was unusual. I didn't do friends. Not after my mother left. Not after losing Mia. But she wasn't like the rest.
No one in the council were. They were fighting, they were surviving. And that was the difference.
Because as selfish as it was, watching other people live their happy, easy lives only reminded me of what I didn't have.
I wanted the world to suffer with me. To ache the way I ached. I knew that made me a monster.
But grief doesn't care about right or wrong.

Jade didn't fill the silence with useless words. She didn't pretend life was fair. She knew what loss felt like. At twelve, she watched her entire family die, mother, father, and two little brothers, all ripped away by the spirits haunting her home.
Spirits she would one day return to destroy.
That was when Lina found her and took her in. Turned her into something lethal. Jade learned how to fight. How to survive. And three years ago, when she was sixteen, she went back.

She trapped the spirits that slaughtered her family, sealing them inside the golden rosary around her neck. The only thing they left behind was the scar slicing from her jawline to her collarbone. She wore it like a trophy.
I wondered if Mia would've liked her.
Maybe, if things had been different, she would've grown up to be just as fierce. Just as powerful.
And the way Jade trained me was both the worst and best part of our friendship.
She didn't coddle me.
She didn't even flinch when I started bleeding.

"Enemies don't stop for a little drop of blood, Brando," she'd say.

She pushed me to my limit every day. Logan was twice her size, and she could still slam him into the ground. There was something about the way she trained—reckless, borderline brutal.

Right now, she had me locked between her legs (for the second time today) my arm seconds away from snapping. "I'm honestly happy to have you," I tapped out.