Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 22

I lead Oz through the door of Ulric’s shop and immediately feel the familiar warmth of enchantments humming against my skin. Protection wards, charm deflectors, a low grade truth bubble hovering somewhere near the counter. Typical low risk safety spells for a magical storefront that caters to both the morally upright and the moderately sketchy. Oz glances around, visibly wary, but I pat his arm reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, Ulric’s a decent guy. One of the few shopkeepers who won’t try to scam you or sell you cursed frog legs. I bet his kids are around here somewhere too.” I tell him. No sooner do the words leave my mouth than chaos explodes from behind the counter. Two tiny goblins barrel into view, practically flying over a stack of books and landing at full tilt against my legs. They latch on like leeches.

“Ace. Ian.” I laugh as I try to stay upright. 

“You guys been practicing your stealth tackles or what?” I tease. They giggle like maniacs. Neither of them clears my knee. Goblins don’t grow much taller than four feet even when they’re full grown, so these two at maybe half that are all skinny limbs, oversized ears, and bright yellow cat eyes that glow just a little too brightly in the dim shop lighting. I think it’s a night vision thing. Goblins can basically see in total darkness. At least I’m fairly sure that’s true. I try to walk forward, dragging them along the floor as they squeal with delight. Behind the counter, Ulric watches the whole scene with a smile that could only belong to a proud (and very tired) father. 

The twins are too busy laughing to answer my questions as I finally inch my way to the counter. 

Beside me, Oz watches all this with a weird mix of caution and disbelief. It’s probably a lot to take in. Then, seeing the boys so open and unafraid, he seems to relax. A little. His shoulders ease, his stance shifts and his tail slowly unwinds from around his waist. He doesn’t try to tuck it back away. He just lets it sway behind him in slow, lazy arcs. The twins freeze. Their heads snap in unison like synchronized goblin radar.

“HE HAS A TAIL!” Ace shrieks, pointing. Before any of us can react, they abandon my legs and launch at Oz like tiny, cackling missiles. Oz startles, just a little, but doesn’t move away. His tail, however, is suddenly much more alert. It darts away from their grabby hands with precision, flicking to one side, then the other, just out of reach. The twins shriek with delight, grabbing at it and Oz... Plays along. He dips his tail low, lets it hover an inch from their fingers, then snaps it out of reach at the last second like a bored cat toying with kittens. One of the boys nearly faceplants into a display shelf and doesn't even care. They're in hysterics. Oz glances at me, bemused. 

“Are they always like this?” He asks. 

“Pretty much.” I say, trying very hard not to melt on the spot. Something about a guy being good with kids is just so attractive. Maybe because I never had a father myself… Oz doesn’t stop the tail game. If anything, he ups the ante, adding spins and sways and even a full circle flick that sends both goblins sprawling. They bounce right back up. Ulric is grinning behind the counter, arms crossed over his chest like he’s watching something deeply satisfying unfold. Well, if Oz was hoping for a good deal on those blood vials, this is how you earn goblin points. Goblins are feral for cleverness and chaos, but they’re even bigger suckers for anyone who’s kind to their kids. And Oz? He’s not just tolerating them. He’s actually having fun. Crap. This man is dangerous. In more ways than I thought.

At first, I planned to wait until the twins got bored of playing with Oz’s tail. But apparently, that isn’t happening any time soon. The tail is a never ending source of joy and chaos, and the boys are treating it like the ultimate magical playground. I doubt many of Ulric’s customers ever stop to play with the kids, let alone encourage them. So instead of wrangling tiny goblin limbs and trying to untangle Oz from his new fan club, I decide to just get on with things. I step closer and hold out my hand for the case of blood. Oz hands it over distractedly, then immediately yelps when one of the boys manages to grab his tail during the handoff. He staggers back dramatically like he’s been mortally wounded.

“Alas!” He gasps, clutching his side. 

“You’ve found my one weakness, my tail! My reign of terror is over!” He groans and kneels on the floor like he’s slowly dying. That earns a round of high pitched laughter as both boys declare victory and begin dancing triumphantly around him like they’ve just slain a dragon. Honestly, it’s a little bit too adorable. I catch myself grinning and have to shake it off before I forget why I’m here. I approach the counter with the case in hand, still chuckling to myself. Ulric is watching with an expression that can only be described as mildly suspicious delight. 

“That’s an interesting friend you’ve brought with you today, miss,” He says, voice all gruff amusement. 

“Any chance you’re here for a love potion?” He says teasingly. I roll my eyes. 

“Hard no.” I say firmly. Despite what most people think, love potions don’t make someone fall in love with you. They just enhance feelings that are already there. Usually couples use them when things get a bit stale. Or fae nobles when they want to intensify drama, which, let’s be real, is most of the time.

“No, we’re not here to buy. We’ve actually got something to sell.” I inform him. That earns me a bushy eyebrow lift and a curious tilt of the head.

“You don’t usually bring me anything.” Ulric admits curiously, leaning forward slightly onto the counter. I know for a fact he’s got a little step stool back there, partly so he CAN look over the counter and partly so people don’t literally look down on him all day. Honestly? Respect. I set the case down and flick the latches open. His eyebrows shoot up the moment he sees the vials inside. 

“Is that… Blood?” He asks, voice low. 

“Demon blood.” I confirm. His expression shifts immediately. Suspicion. Worry. Maybe even a little hurt.

“You’ve always been a good girl, miss. Don’t tell me you’ve gotten involved in something you shouldn’t. You know I don’t buy things like that.” He says quietly, and there’s real warning in his tone. I hold my hands up, defensive. 

“Relax. It’s not what you think. This is guilt free demon blood. It belongs to my friend. He’s the one selling it.” I explain. Ulric narrows his eyes and leans to the side to eye Oz, still tangled in goblin limbs across the shop. 

“What kind of demon willingly sells his own blood?” He asks suspiciously. Apparently overhearing that, Oz gently detaches the kids from his tail and makes his way to the counter. His expression is calm but firm. 

“It was stolen from me, Kaci helped me get it back. I don’t see any reason to waste it.” He says evenly. Ulric studies him for a beat longer, then huffs out a breath. His whole posture shifts, suspicion melting into something closer to appreciation.

“Well. Why didn’t you say so?” He mutters, already pulling out a small, battered lockbox from under the counter. He pops it open and starts counting out cash like a man possessed. 

Apparently ethically sourced demon blood is the holy grail for a shopkeeper who doesn't want cursed inventory. With twenty vials at two hundred apiece, Oz walks out four grand richer. We wave goodbye to the twins who are both begging for a rematch with the tail, and step back out into the alley. I turn to Oz, opening my mouth to ask if he’s happy with the trade. Something slams into the side of my head. White hot pain flashes through my skull and the world tilts. Shit.