The Demon's Half

Chapter 34

When we opened the closet, we all cringed.
I loved my sister. Mia had been bright, chaotic, unapologetically her. But her fashion sense was a crime against practicality. Even the clothes that used to be mine had been slashed, and bedazzled into something unrecognizable. She was very artistic, after all.

"This is a disaster," Jade muttered, holding up a neon pink top covered in sequins.

"Who even wears that?" Alilla snorted.

"Mia did," I smiled faintly. "She thought it was 'fun.'"

Alilla sighed, running her fingers over a line of glittering winter dresses. "We're going to freeze to death in the Crimson Forest. Or get eaten by something horrible. And this—" she held up a black velvet dress with dramatic sleeves, "—is the only thing here that doesn't look like it belongs to a toddler on a sugar high. I guess it'll do with the tights I had yesterday."

"You're not serious," Jade said. "You'll trip and die in that thing."

"I'd rather die looking like a lady than in some farmer's overalls."

She grinned, holding up a red puffy sweater and denim overalls. "At least I'll be warm. And mobile."

My fingers brushed something tucked in the back of the closet. My dad's old shirt. Faded, oversized, with the logo of some band I'd never listened to. The fabric still smelled faintly like him, coffee and whisky and nicotine. I had never worn it. But today, it felt right.

We got dressed cracking up jokes, trying our best to lighten the mood. Jade slapped together peanut butter and jelly sandwiches like a soldier packing ammo, even though none of us were hungry. We'd already brushed our teeth, the minty taste still sharp on my tongue, but she said we needed fuel. I didn't fight her. Fuel made sense. Even if food felt impossible.

The taxi ride was dead silent.
Alilla's overstuffed backpack sat in Jade's lap, clashing horribly with her red sweater. She had flat-out refused to carry it, something about ruining the silhouette. She'd even managed to swipe on makeup, her hair falling in perfect blonde waves like we weren't about to trek into a cursed forest. Jade, meanwhile, looked exactly like Alilla had described: Like a kid trying to play in a barn. The pigtails didn't help at all.

Alexander's dagger was strapped to my thigh. Jade had her own blade tucked into her back pocket, and Alilla wore her three white rosaries and the purple one like a shield. She'd re-inked the runes on our palms earlier, but something told me this so called 'protection' wouldn't be enough.

The roads were empty, swallowed by pre-dawn darkness. I'd tried to convince them both to stay behind. But they didn't even let me finish the sentence.
By the time we reached the Crimson Forest, the silence felt alive. Just the crunch of frost beneath our boots and the echo of breath against cold. The air bit at my skin, but I focused on the fire simmering inside me. It took a few tries, but finally, warmth appeared under my skin, and I became a chimney with legs. Alilla and Jade inched closer like moths to a furnace.

Alilla bumped my shoulder. "I might have to rethink my whole no-touching rule."

"Reconsider faster," Jade muttered, practically clinging to my arm.

We didn't have a plan. Not really. Plans are for people who expect to survive.
Skeletal trees clawed at the sky. Every step echoed too loud. No one said it aloud, but we were all thinking it: Pinche idea toda estúpida.

Odysseus stepped into the clearing first. Pale. Tall. Intimidating. His black hair fell in sharp lines around a face that should've looked familiar. But it didn't.

Then came Bo. Wearing the same fighting leather pants as Odysseus, but shirtless. Every muscle in his body was on full display. He looked like a bear: big, broad, hairy, but far more dangerous. His wild curls bounced as he walked, his tanned skin catching the sun. A dagger spun lazily between his fingers, as he hummed something tuneless and eerie.