THE DEMON'S FORBIDDEN HUMAN

RUN!

CHAPTER 7

Pearl’s POV

My lungs burned.

Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The image of Hamzel—standing between me and those men, his eyes glowing with that terrifying, beautiful red fire—was burned into my retina.

'Go. Don’t look back.'

His voice echoed in my head, a command that vibrated in my bones. But how could I not look back? How could I leave him there? He had saved me twice. First from the attackers in the parking lot, and now from… whatever those men in tactical gear were.

'Holy Inquisition,' one of them had said.

I stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, catching myself before I fell. My suitcase wheel caught on a grate, jerking my arm, but I kept moving. I was three blocks away. The subway station was just ahead, its yellow lights glowing like a beacon in the rainy night.

But my feet slowed.

'He’s fighting for me,' I thought, the guilt twisting in my stomach like a knife. 'He’s a demon. A monster. And he’s fighting humans for me.'

I stopped under the awning of a closed bakery, gasping for air. Rain slicked my hair to my face, mixing with my tears. I looked back toward my apartment building. It was too far to see details, but I could feel it. A disturbance in the air. A pressure drop. Like the calm before a storm.

Was he okay?

The stone in my pocket pulsed warmly against my thigh.

Thump-thump.

It was steady. Calm.

'He’s alive,' I realized. The stone was linked to him. If he died, would it go cold? Would it shatter?

"Gosh!" I groaned with gritted teeth. "Why do I care?! If he dies it's none of my..." I paused, feeling so confused and angry.

I clutched it tight. "Please," I whispered to the rain, to the night, to God, to whoever was listening. "Please let him be okay."

A siren wailed in the distance. Then another. Police. Or worse.

I couldn’t stay here. If I stayed, I’d lead them right to him. Or they’d find me and use me to get to him.

'Don’t look back.'

I turned away from my home, from my life, from Mia, and ran toward the subway.

***

Hamzel’s POV

Pain.

It was a sharp, searing agony that tore through my shoulder where the holy energy had grazed me. It smelled like burning meat and ozone. I ignored it. Pain was information. Pain was fuel.

The two remaining Hunters circled me, their staffs humming with lethal power. They were cautious now. They had seen what I did to their leader. They knew I wasn’t a mindless beast. I was something older. Something darker.

"You’re protecting a human," the taller one spat, wiping blood from his lip. "Why? Is she a witch? A warlock?"

"She is nothing to you," I growled, my voice dropping an octave, becoming the multi-layered rasp of the underworld. "Leave. Now."

"We don’t leave demons unchecked," the shorter one said, raising his staff. "And we definitely don’t leave demons who harbor stolen artifacts."

The Stone.

They knew about the Anchor Stone. Which meant they knew who I was.

"Hamzel Locke," the tall one said, a smirk playing on his lips. "The Devil’s favorite pet. We’ve been waiting for you to slip up. And look at you. Slipping up for a girl."

Rage, pure and blinding, erupted in my chest.

I didn’t wait for them to attack.

I moved.

Fast. Faster than human eyes could track. I closed the distance to the shorter Hunter in a blink. My clawed hand slammed into his chest, not to kill, but to disable. I crushed the crystal on his staff, shattering the focus of his magic.

He screamed as the backlash of energy threw him backward into a brick wall. He slumped, unconscious.

The tall Hunter swung his staff at my head. I ducked, feeling the wind of the blow pass inches from my ear. I grabbed the shaft of the weapon, my grip tightening until the wood splintered.

"You think you can hunt me?" I laughed, a cold, harsh sound. "You are children playing with fire."

I yanked the staff from his hands and snapped it over my knee.

He stumbled back, fear finally replacing his arrogance. He looked at his fallen comrades, then at me. He saw the red glow in my eyes, the horns beginning to protrude from my forehead, the shadows writhing around me like living things.

"This isn't over, Demon," he warned, backing away. "The Inquisition has eyes everywhere. She won’t be safe. Not with you. Not without you."

He turned and ran, dragging his unconscious partner with him.

I didn’t chase them. Let them run. Let them tell their masters. Let them come.

I stood alone in the alley, the rain washing the blood from my skin. The pain in my shoulder throbbed, but it was manageable.

What wasn’t manageable was the silence in my head.

The connection to Pearl was still there, but it was distant. Faint. She was moving away. Fast.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the bond due to the stone with her. I could feel her fear. Her confusion. Her… concern?

'She’s worried about me,' I realized, stunned.

After everything I had shown her—the claws, the eyes, the violence—she was worried about me.

A strange sensation tightened my throat. It wasn’t rage. It wasn’t hunger. It was something softer. Something dangerous.

I looked up at the sky. The rain fell harder, cleansing the street of the battle’s remnants.

I had to find her. Not to take the stone. Not to complete the mission.

To make sure she was safe.

And maybe… just maybe… to see if she was still afraid.

I dissolved into the shadows, following the faint, warm pulse of the Anchor Stone.