Page 23 of Mortis

Perhaps He was just as curious about the mortal as I was.

“We were hungry,” I said at last, deliberately keeping my voice low.

The human frowned. “Is there someone else here?”

His gaze swept around the room as though he expected another creature to emerge from the shadows.

Little did he know, the second creature was one he was already acquainted with.

“My inner Beast,” I explained, and his confusion only deepened. “My demon.” Still nothing, so I tapped a talon lightly against the side of my skull. “He resides here.”

“Okaaay.” The mortal nodded slowly. “Let me try and get this straight. You’re the one who lives in the woods, right? The one all the stories are about?”

I nodded. Over the years, I had heard many stories about myself. Some were surprisingly accurate. Others were complete nonsense. Certain tales described a seven-foot creature lurking within Barrowfell Woods and feeding upon unwary travellers, which was close enough to the truth. Others insisted I hunted naughty children who wandered too far from home.

Those stories offended me.

Yes, I was a monster. But it was hardly my responsibility to discipline mortal children. And I certainly would not do so by eating them. The entire notion seemed counterproductive.

“And you have a . . . demon,” he continued carefully. “That lives inside you?”

“Yes.”

His eyes travelled over me as he spoke. Over the horns curling from my skull. The dark hair floating around my face like smoke. My shoulders and chest. The claws at the ends of my fingers, stained black with the essence of death. Then lower, to the fur covering my legs and the hooves planted firmly against the floor.

“Are you a demon?”

“Yes.”

The human frowned.

“You’re a demon, but another demon lives inside you?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence followed.

“Is he paying rent?”

I stared at him. Slowly, I shook my head.

“Sorry.” He pulled his lower lip between his teeth before letting it slip free. “I don’t think I understand.”

Neither did I.

What did rent have to do with this?

Closing my eyes briefly, I searched for a simpler explanation. When I opened them again, the mortal was lightly chewing on his thumbnail.

“Technically, I’m a creature of Hell. Forged from fire by one of the Seven Princes.” I paused to ensure he was following, and the mortal simply waited. There was no screaming or panic, only patient attention.

It was strangely encouraging.

“Demons below feed upon negative emotions. Fear, despair, suffering. The misery of damned souls.” The human shuddered, and I couldn’t blame him. “To survive above, those emotions are insufficient. Eventually, a fracture forms. A tear.”

His head tilted slightly. “A tear?”

“Our very being splits in two.”