Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 142

**KACIA**

The room is tense. After a moment, Mikey clears his throat, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“Well, it just so happens I’m very good at ‘somethings.’ What flavour are we talking? Recon? Paper trail? Strategic loitering with snacks?” He teases.

“Always snacks.” Angelo comments.

“Pastry diplomacy. It’s how I got Angie to agree to wash the skirting boards.” Sarah says, pleased. Angelo turns, affronted. 

“I was always going to wash the skirting boards.” He says. Despite everything, a smile sneaks out of me. Coming here was the right move. The edges of my chest don’t feel quite so tight.

“I mean it. I need to fix things.” I say, steering us back. 

“I’m not going to sit around and wait for someone else to decide who gets hurt next.” I say firmly. 

“Then we don’t sit.” Mikey says. He releases my shoulders and shifts to face me fully, elbows on knees, posture open. 

“We make a list. You love lists, right?” He gives me a sideways smile. I sit up a little straighter. 

“I love Lists. Lists are a tool. Like knives.” I say enthusiastically. 

“Please do not confuse the stationery with the cutlery.” Angelo mutters, dragging another smile out of me. Sarah disappears and reappears with a notebook and pen like she had them staged. She places them in my hands.

“So… What kind of list am I writing?” I ask, pen hovering. Mikey rubs the back of his neck, thinking.

“I’m thinking… Not pros and cons exactly. More like strengths and weaknesses. For your grandfather, Lord Asshole, or whatever his name is.” He jokes. 

“Lord Asshole suits him perfectly.” Oz says dryly. I nod and print the title across the page in neat block letters.

*LORD ASSHOLE - STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES*

“Start with strengths. It’s usually easier to see all the problems you’re facing.” Mikey prompts gently. I sigh. 

“Fine. Strengths first. It’s the longer list anyway. He IS a Fae Lord.” I grumble. Oz’s mouth quirks, but his eyes are serious. 

“And he stinks like spun sugar when he’s near. That smell is not just perfume. It’s a weapon against anything with decent senses.” He complains. 

“Great.” I mutter, then draw a line down the page, splitting it into two columns. I label the left one ‘strengths.’ Then, I start writing, saying each one aloud as the letters hit the paper. Oz and Angelo help contribute to the list. Even Mikey and Sarah help us come up with a few more ideas.

*LORD ASSHOLE - STRENGTHS*

*\- One of the twelve fae lords/ladies: Has obscene political clout and court-only cheat codes, can probably snap his fingers and a small army of minions appears.*

*\- Rich as hell: Enough cash to bribe, buy, or bedazzle his way through any problem until it stops being a problem.*

*\- Jurisdictional magic control: has some ability to bind, restrict, or mute other people’s magic, already stripped Oz’s portalling like it was an app he uninstalled.*

*\- Master of magic (ugh): Illusions, enchantments, and whatever else, varied, extensive, and annoyingly competent. We don’t know the full menu, just that it’s ‘all of it.’*

*\- Irritatingly not stupid: Contrary to popular opinion in this room, he can, in fact, think strategically. Rude.*

*\- Demon summoning and binding: Knows circles, tricks, and all the ‘how to bully a demon 101’ nonsense. Potentially puts Oz at a disadvantage.*

*\- Old as hell: Basically ancient. Had centuries to collect tricks, grudges, and monogrammed cruelty.*

*\- Ruthless & emotionally Dense: Outsources harm, never flinches at collateral damage, and wouldn’t hug a family member if you paid him.*

*\- Enchanted hoarder: Wards, heirlooms, artifacts, probably a vault full of shiny cheat items we haven’t even heard of yet.*

*\- Home-field: On his estates and in court, layered wards + fine print = everything tilts in his favour.*

*\- Hospitality rules: Fae guest-rights are a minefield and he probably wrote the map in invisible ink.*

*\- Reputation & fear aura: Half the room folds before he speaks, the other half pretends they weren’t going to disagree anyway.*

*\- Court connections on tap: Enforcers, courtiers, gossip-mongers, and scribes, an intel pipeline that never sleeps.*

*\- Trophy collector: Keeps tokens and ‘souvenirs.’ Translation: blackmail shelf is fully stocked.*

I cap the pen for a second and flex my fingers. The list glares up at me, tidy black lines that feel like a wall.

“Okay… That’s the general idea of what we’re up against.” I say, steadying my breath. Mikey nods once, gaze flicking across each point like he’s filing them into labeled drawers. 

“Good. Now we know where he’s strongest.” He concludes. I uncap the pen again and draw my next column header, the one that matters just as much.

“Alright, let’s take him apart.” I murmur as we start the next list. 

*LORD ASSHOLE- WEAKNESSES*

*\- Prophecy fanatic: Obsessed with oracles and prophecies. If a raven sneezes westward he’ll cancel a meeting.*

*\- Paranoia dial stuck at 100: Assumes everyone (especially me) is plotting. Occasionally correct. Mostly exhausting.*

*\- No one actually likes him: Loyalty is rented (money/fear). Realistically that means his allies probably won’t fight for him that hard and might jump ship if there is a better offer.* 

*\- Demon tricks need prep: Circles, sigils, all that stuff takes time and preparation. Not insta magic.* 

*\- Old as hell (part 2): Outdated instincts; probably thinks “cloud” is weather. May be vulnerable to Wi-Fi passwords, slang and sarcasm.*

*\- Magic requires focus: Big spells require big focus (we assume).*

*\- Cannot lie (tragic): Fae can’t lie. Unfortunately, he’s elite at weaponised half-truths.*

*\- Allergic to technology: lf tech works badly for us, it would probably spontaneously combust if he tried using it.*

*\- Ego the size of a cathedral: Baitable with disrespect and being ignored. (Unhelpful note: also baitable into killing you. Oops.)*

*\- Sugary BO: Leaves a cloying scent trail demons can track.*

*\- Hospitality handcuffs: Same guest-right rules he abuses also bind him. Breaking them has consequences he actually cares about.*

*\- Allergic to fun (unverified): Potential reactions include scowling, smiting, and writing a stern letter to the concept of joy.*

“Okay, great. So we have a list. Now we have to figure out if any of this is actually USEFUL.” I sigh and slide the notebook between us. Oz leans in, shoulder warm against mine as his eyes skim the chaos I’ve just organised. 

“Some of it, maybe.” He says, neutral in that way that means he’s already building three plans and also vetoing them. 

“But we need an actual plan. Mikey, any ideas?” He prompts. Mikey looks thoughtful, which is promising, and hesitant, which is not. 

“I have a few ideas… But wouldn’t you be better off asking one of your more… Magically inclined friends?” He asks. My frown drops in fast and sharp. 

“You don’t want to help?” I demand. 

“Whoa, no!” His hands go up like I’ve pulled a badge and a warrant on him. 

“That’s not what I meant at all. It’s just… I’m sure you know people who know a lot more about magic and fae than I do.” He points out. 

“Yeah, well you know a lot about bringing in bad men.” I say, and the words come out hotter than I intend because I can feel this conversation veering toward something I don’t like. 

“Besides, I trust you. Completely. You’re always the one I go to for help making my plans.” I argue. He nods, but he also shares a flicker of a look with Sarah, which I absolutely do not miss.

“What is it? You’re acting weird.” I demand, I set the pen down. Mikey grimaces like a man about to admit to a crime. 

“It’s just… We’ve been best friends for years. But lately…” He glances down, then meets my eyes. 

“I’ve been, not left out, exactly. Just… Worried I don’t fit in your world anymore. Not in the same way.” He explains awkwardly. My jaw actually drops. He barrels on before I can reload.

“I know you have magic now, and you have magical friends and demonic not-boyfriends and fae godfather-tutors. I guess I’ve felt like maybe you don’t need me so much anymore.” He concludes. I narrow my eyes, lean forward, and smack him on the back of the head. Not hard. Just enough to make a point.

“Mikey, you are an idiot.” I announce. 

“Tell me how you really feel.” He grumbles, rubbing the spot, but there’s relief under the sarcasm already.

“I will.” I point at him with the pen. 

“For starters, I have never ‘needed’ you. Just like you don’t ‘need’ me. That’s why this works. We could both get along just fine without each other and we STILL choose to put up with each other’s crap. You are like my family, but better, because I picked you and you picked me. So stop thinking stupid things.” I inhale, heat in my chest, not anger, just… Frustration. 

“You could be a completely useless bum and you would still be my best friend, and that is not changing!” I finish. Silence lands. Sarah’s mouth is soft, eyes shiny. Angelo has frozen mid-slice like a dramatic statue, knife hovering over what looks like lemon cake. Oz’s gaze flicks between us all then settles on me, approving, like I’ve put something heavy back on the right shelf. Then, slowly, Mikey starts to laugh. It bubbles up like he didn’t mean to let it escape, and now it’s here, warm and stupid and perfect.