Page 32 of The Girl Who Should Be Dead

“Just thirty-four,” he mutters. “Don’t go around asking people that, people get offended.”

He starts walking towards the entrance, and Ambra has to scramble to keep up with him, the body’s legs far shorter than his, before he abruptly turns back to her.

“There’s going to be loud noises and bright lights,” he warns, almost brusque, “and everyone else is going to be ignoring them.”

Wordless, she nods, then idly rubs the prickling of hairon her scalp. “People always stared when they took me out in public.”

“That’ll probably happen again,” he warns, his lips pursing, as he gives her an obvious once-over. “The best response to that is to ignore it. It’s not a threat, it’s just normal people reacting to something outside of what usually happens.”

“Usually, the handlers have my leash too tight for me to react,” Ambra says, and he grimaces.

“Do you want to risk sitting outside?”

Before he can even finish, she’s shaking her head no. Too far away, too unknown, and to be so alone so shortly after Johnsin died…no. It would be too empty.

He sighs again, then gestures for her to follow, and they stride into the building.

Tall automatic sliding doors open for them, sending a puff of artificially cooled air into Ambra’s face, and she wrinkles her nose at the sensation.

Instead of one store, like the grocery that the body took her to that one time, it’s a collection of small stores, their doors all wide open into a grand hallway.

“This is a mall, isn’t it?” Ambra asks, remembering to dip her voice low.

“Yes,” Gurlien replies with a curt nod. “I felt it better than a Walmart, those are hell.”

A gaggle of teenagers pass by them, too close, and Ambra shies closer to Gurlien. One of them stares at her, his eyebrows furrowing at her appearance, but they don’t stop.

It’s chaos inside.

Everywhere she looks people are walking, sometimes alone but often in groups, chatting. Bright lights flicker from some of the stores and giant signs in the middle, and evenunderneath the dim roar of conversation, twinkling music plays.

There’s no spot of quiet, no break in the continuous noise, and it takes Ambra a few minutes of breathing out hard through her nose to not react.

Gurlien tugs her by her sleeve to lean against one wall, away from any store openings, and it’s a lot better than being moved by the leash.

“Did you get this way before the…merge?” he asks, and her back prickles at the question.

“No,” she replies sharply. “A live human body is way more…sensitive.”

“And did the…body…” she still flinches, even at his careful tone, “…ever react like this?”

“No, she didn’t even notice,” Ambra says, past the lump in her throat. “I could be trying to clap our hands over my ears and she’d be fine.”

He nods, as if she’s saying logical things.

“Do these sounds ever stop in here?” Her voice is way smaller than she wants it to be. She’s a demon, she has untold power, and she’s acting like a hurt child.

She could destroy this entire building, flatten it to the ground. She could smother everyone around her, end the lives of countless people.

And she’s scared by a little noise.

Her legs still ache and her shoulders are still tight, but it’s not a good enough excuse.

“Not often,” Gurlien replies, and she appreciates the honesty. “I take it they never gave you ear-pro?”

At her blank look, he pulls out the list again, clicking a pen and scribbling on it again.

He let go of her sleeve to do so, and it’s a startling shock.

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