Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 150

**KACIA**

Raylah steps out from between two broken pillars in a dress that looks like smoke and a smile that looks like friendliness. Forced friendliness. There are too many teeth, too much shine. She’s trying. I’d bet good money she’s hoping we’ll put in a kind word with Tarish. Honestly? Not impossible. If she helps and proves she’s actually sorry, I’ll consider it. But she’s going to have to earn it.

“Busy little bees!” She says lightly, gaze skating over the box, the hidden lines, then landing on me. 

“I received an intriguing invitation.” She says airily. Oz shifts a fraction, angling himself so that he can watch her defensively. He’s not feeling as forgiving as me. Fair.

“Good. We’ve been waiting for you.” I say, wiping ash on my pants and meeting her eyes. 

“I gathered. What can I do for you, little heir?” Her head tilts, her jewellery making soft chiming sounds as it moves.

“I have a secret I need to make sure everyone knows.” I say. Her lashes flutter once, then she grins.

“This sounds entertaining. Tell me more.” She gracefully perches on a chunk of collapsed masonry and somehow makes rubble look like a chaise.

“I’d love to. And because you can’t lie, I’m not going to ask you to, so I won’t be telling you everything. I AM going to ask you to spread a rumour for me.” I explain. Her eyes narrow, bright with curiosity. 

“And is this rumour true?” She asks. 

“…Sure?” I say, with my best innocent face. She laughs, delighted. 

“Which translates to ‘not telling,’ but I accept the terms. What is it you want me to share?” She says curiously. 

“Actually, I want you to not share it, or act like you’re not sharing it, while ensuring everyone hears it.” I hold her gaze.

“You know how to do that I assume?” I question. 

“Oh, certainly.” She props her chin on two fingers, amused. 

“Accidental overhearing. Leaks through friends of enemies. A whispered aside to someone who can’t keep their own counsel.” Her smile sharpens. 

“When do you want this… Unshared secret to bloom?” She asks. Now I know I’ve picked the right person. She is asking all the right questions. I glance at Oz as I answer. 

“A couple of hours? We need a little more time to finish up here.” I decide. He nods once in agreement. 

“Possible.” She says, considering. 

“And I take it you want this to gild the ear of a particular lord?” She says with a sly smile. I lift one shoulder. 

“If enough people hear it, he will. That’s the point.” I reason.

“Very well. What am I not sharing?” She says, tapping her fingers. I recite the false prophecy. As I speak, her grin grows and grows. I finish the last line and let the quiet sit.

“Ooh! It seems the little heir has decided to take that crown after all.” She purrs, delighted.

“His crown is really not my goal here. I just want-” I start.

“To be left alone. Yes you’ve said. But the result is the same.” She interrupts. Then, she laughs again, brighter. 

“This will be fun!.” The way she says the word makes my palms itch. She is way too excited for my comfort level. Terrifying. Her gaze flicks to the box, then to the traps we’re setting that haven’t been hidden yet. 

“You’ve been busy.” She says, tone almost approving. 

“May I offer a professional courtesy?” She asks. 

“No.” Oz says, exactly as I knew he would.

“Yes.” I say at the same time. Raylah’s eyes sparkle. 

“Two pieces of advice, then. First, with wording like that, he will come fast. Make sure your best trap is also your first trap.”She explains. Then she nods at the box. 

“Second, he will suspect that you will be coming to the ruins. So hide well.” She instructs. I file both notes under, annoying, useful. 

“Duly noted.” I respond. She rises, smoothing nothing from her dress. Somehow the ash seems to be magically not sticking to it. Or maybe it really is magic that’s keeping it clean. Then she steps close enough that I can smell her perfume. 

“Two hours.” She says softly. 

“I will make certain the wind carries your secret in exactly the wrong direction.” She promises.

“Raylah.” I say, stopping her as she turns. She glances back, one brow arched. 

“Help us, and don’t make me regret trusting you a second time.” I say pointedly. That lands. The smile drops three degrees toward real. 

“Then I will not make you regret it.” She says, then she vanishes between two blackened stacks as if the gaps were cut for her. Oz exhales through his nose.

“I don’t like her.” He grumbles. 

“I don’t know if I like her, but I know I don’t trust her.” I say, already reaching for the tape. 

“But I DO like what she can do.” I add. He gives me a look that says same thing, different day, and then we get back to work. Two hours isn’t long. And now the wind is carrying our secret exactly where we want it.

We keep building as the light thins from orange to violet. Every knot gets tightened, every line hidden, every nozzle checked… Again. As the sun goes down, Tracey ghosts in on quiet feet. He’s dressed practically with none of his usual flare.  

“Put me to work.” He says. Then I start placing people. 

“Mikey, you’re on the technology. Speakers and strobe. Run your cords high and safe, tuck the battery behind that slab, and keep a smoke canister in your hand. Don’t get hit by anything magical, your wife would be pissed if I return you broken. Vidar, take that shadow under the remains of the balcony with a weighted net and watch the box through that wedge in the beams. Clarence, you’re obviously doing your own thing, but be ready. Once he triggers the first trap, we need to go all out and keep him totally overwhelmed. All those with physical capabilities, when you see an opening, take it. We need him knocked out…” I trail off and take a breath.

“Oz… You take the left, I’ll take the right?” I suggest. He nods. Before anyone moves again, I press foam earplugs into palms and make sure I see each one seated properly. Then put my own in. Once we get started there is going to become chaos here, I don’t want anyone suffering from our own traps. As I put them in, the world dips a notch quieter. I wave to Taryn who nods at me. She is going to keep an eye on us and help look after anyone who needs out. 

“Two-hour mark.” Mikey murmurs, looking at his watch. It’s time to get into place then.

“Then we go invisible. No talking, no breathing too loudly. You don’t exist until I say.” I say firmly. Everyone nods. Then they vanish the way only practiced people do. Mikey folds behind his pillar, thumb resting on the remote, smoke can nestled like a bird. Vidar melts into the pocket of darkness, eyes on the box through a beam’s narrow gap. Clarence tucks into a seam where he can watch everything all at once, bell-string looped around his wrist for a whisper of warning. Tracey basically vanishes he’s so well hidden. Oz brushes my elbow reassuringly, then goes to hide himself away. I wedge into a hollow made by a fallen case and a crossbeam, lay my sightline on the decoy box, and try, really try to stop worrying. The pull-cord is clear. The sprays are seated. I have already confirmed this, twice, then thrice, and my brain still begs for a fourth. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to make my heartbeat stop sounding like footsteps. My palms are damp. Every inhale tastes like ash. I count my breaths in and my breaths out and hate that I’ve had to start counting anything at all. The ruins settle into a quiet. A trickle of ash slides somewhere in the breeze. Even though the earplugs, I can still hear a lot. Far off, a bus exhales and is gone. Nearer, the garden makes its own noises, leaves rustling, wind blowing. Intrusive thoughts try to line up like hecklers. What if he doesn’t come? What if he comes from the wrong side? What if the cord snags? What if the sprays misfire? What if the whole plan fails? I shove them into a mental crate, sit on the lid, and mentally duct-tape the edges. The lid bulges anyway. Dusk fades to night. The earplugs make my own swallow sound too close. My thigh muscle vibrates with the kind of adrenaline that wants to be sprinting. I force myself to remain still. And we wait.