CHAPTER ONE
“Coax her out,” Devon said, crouching on his heels opposite me. We were in the gym, just the two of us, for one of my workouts. But this time, we were attacking a different issue—one that I couldn’t avoid any longer.
“What if I hurt you?” I asked. “What if she hurts you?” I didn’t want to be responsible for injuring Devon, but that fear stuck in the back of my mind.
Devon shook his head. “Don’t sweat it, Kyann. You can’t hurt me, not without a weapon. I’ve had too many years of experience, and I’m a full-blood. I know all the tricks. Now, give it a try. Encourage that part of you to emerge.” He motioned for me to stand in front of him.
I was trying to control my breathing, but I kept tensing up. I didn’t want to do this, but Devon insisted that it was time. And Seton agreed. He had convinced me that if I ever wanted to control and integrate my inner demon, I had to let her out and accept her.
Devon and I’d been sparring, which seemed to bring her toward the surface. But every time she got near, I got nervous.
“I know you’re scared, but come on, Kyann. Please try.” Devon leaned forward, taking hold of my hands. “You can do this.”
“Okay.” I closed my eyes and dropped my head forward, searching for her. She’d been close to the surface lately, ever since I met my father and half-brother. It was as though meeting them jogged a recognition deep inside, and now my demon was curious. But I was afraid to let her out. What if I lost control? What if she wanted to join them? And that wasn’t going to happen.
Where are you…I inhaled and held my breath, searching for her. Please come out.
You never let me play, came the breathy reply.
Then, just as swiftly, she was there, peering out of the dark well in which I kept her. She flashed me a crooked smile and began to creep out, reminding me of a praying mantis. As she emerged, I began an exercise Devon had given me. I held out my arms to her, and—to my surprise—she slipped in for an embrace.
At first it felt like I was holding a live wire, but as the shock wore down, I felt the bond between us grow. She was separate, still, but I could feel the connection, down to the very core. We belonged together. I felt stronger with her in my arms, and she seemed more compliant and less belligerent. I wasn’t sure what caused the shift, but I welcomed it.
I turned to Devon, with her riding on my shoulder. “What next?”
“Next, we have to integrate the two of you, so you no longer keep her separate. When you were little, something had to have happened. Something that frightened you. You split her away and shoved her deep down, locking the lid on her. We have to break that wall. You have to be whole, to no longer feel like she’s separate. That includes referring to that part of yourself as “she” rather than “me.” Do you understand?”
I walked away from him to sit on the weight bench. “What do I need to do?”
“Find the point where she broke off. What made you hide her? Think back.”
It was like peeling off layers of gauze, unwrapping a mummy. I sought for the time when she left me, when I forced her away.
What had happened? What caused it?
A milky fog covered my memories, spiraling around me as it tried to cloak the hidden truth. I brushed through the mist, waving swirls aside. I wanted to know, but I was fighting myself, I was fighting the part of me who didn’t want to remember.
It wasn’t my demon. She wanted out. She was trying to help me sort through the blur of images. No, it was another part of myself—a fear that had grown so strong that it took on weight and form. I dug deeper, harder, looking for the key.
What had happened? Why had I split off the strongest part of myself?
I can protect you far better than you can, she whispered in my ear. I can fight back in a way you can’t, because you’re too nice. You’re too afraid of making a mistake and regretting it. I don’t have that regret. I can act immediately.
But what if you do make a mistake? How can I live with that?
How do you know if it’s actually a mistake? You thought you made a mistake, so many years ago when we were still one being. You thought we were bad and that our mother would hate us. I wish you would have told her…
And then…
I was toddling around the apartment, barely four. My mother was in the kitchen, making dinner. A stranger was sitting on the sofa, talking to her from the living room. I didn’t like him—he felt dangerous and he scared me. But Mama told me to call him “uncle” and she got irritated when I refused to give him a hug.
Mama couldn’t see us from where she was making dinner. And I—I was toddling around the room, alone with him. I tried to stay away, because he scared me. I’d look at him and see a dark shadow around him. I turned toward the kitchen, ready to go find Mama, but the man caught me up in his arms. He smelled like lies.
“You want me to put her to bed?” he called.
I didn’t want him touching me. I tried to kick and I started to cry. But he glared at me, and then clapped his hand over my mouth.
“What did you say?” my mother called.
