Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 63

**OZ**

Kacia is driving us to her mother’s place and I just… Can’t. Stop. Staring. Partially because I’m still not used to her makeover. The purple hair and eyes suit her so damn well. Even with the beanie she pulled on to cover her ears, she looks… Comfortable. Relaxed in a way I’ve never seen before. I didn’t notice it before, but she used to squint a lot, probably because of those contacts. And with her hair down like this, curling softly over her shoulders, she just looks… Softer somehow. Like herself. The second reason I’m staring is because she’s wearing a dress. I’ve never seen her in a dress before. She usually looks ready for battle, jeans, leather jacket, fitted tops, always ready to sprint or throw a knife at someone’s head at a moment’s notice. But now… Now she just looks casual. Comfortable. Pretty. So heartbreakingly pretty it makes my chest ache. I realise I’ve been silent too long, and I clear my throat. 

“So… Can I ask what inspired the sudden makeover?” I ask conversationally. She shrugs, then winces slightly at the movement, and I immediately regret asking. But she answers anyway. 

“I hid my hair and eyes so that no one would work out I’m part fae.” She says quietly, eyes fixed on the road. 

“That doesn’t matter anymore. So I decided to stop hiding… And use my appearance to my advantage. That’s how I got Angelo out of that awful bar.” She adds. My eyebrows shoot up. 

“Wait, what? How exactly did your makeover save Angelo?” I question, totally confused. She huffs a little laugh, one corner of her mouth curling up. 

“I walked in, told them I’m fae, and insisted they hand him over. They were so scared they just… Did what I said. It was so weird. But easier than fighting or trying to sneak him out.” She explains. For a moment I’m stunned, then a bark of laughter escapes me, echoing through the quiet car. 

“Oh darling, I cannot believe you did that. Hell, I wish I was there to see it. You must have looked magnificent.” I can’t stop laughing. She flushes pink and ducks her head slightly. 

“I just… Wanted to get Angelo out of there.” She mumbles, fiddling with the steering wheel.

“Oh, I know.” I say, still grinning. 

“And I love it. Only you would think to use purple hair as an intimidation tool.” I announce. Her eyes flick to me, narrowed. 

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?” She demands. 

“It means, princess, that you are objectively adorable.” I say softly, shaking my head with a helpless little laugh. She stiffens slightly, her fingers stilling against the wheel. 

“Does it… Does it look silly?” She asks, her voice tight with sudden anxiety. She brushes her hair out of her face self consciously. My chest squeezes painfully and I rush to reassure her, leaning forward slightly despite my seatbelt. 

“No. Hell, no. You look beautiful, Kacia. Absolutely beautiful.” I pause, letting the sincerity bleed into my voice. 

“I just think it’s amusing that you chose to use that beauty as a weapon.” I point out. For a moment, her face is unreadable. Then she lets out a soft breath, her shoulders relaxing as a small, secret smile plays across her lips. She drives on, silent and thoughtful, but her cheeks remain dusted with the faintest pleased pink.

We pull up in front of a smallish house with a neat garden out front, flowering bushes, a trimmed lawn, a white gate hanging slightly crooked on its hinges. It looks… Peaceful. Ordinary. Like the kind of place where nothing bad ever happens. But Kacia makes no move to get out of the car. She just sits there, staring at the house, her fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel in a restless, anxious rhythm. I watch her quietly, noting the faint furrow in her brow, the way her lips press together like she’s steeling herself for something. She’s close with her mother, I know that much. So whatever’s holding her back isn’t fear of seeing her. It’s something else. Probably asking about her father. Or… Maybe it’s me.

“Having second thoughts?” I ask lightly, trying to keep my voice calm and teasing despite the tight knot forming in my chest. She sighs heavily, shoulders slumping. Then she turns to look at me, her eyes tired but sharp, searching my face with an intensity that makes my stomach twist.

“Oz…” She starts quietly, her voice so soft I almost miss it. 

“You… Don’t have any other big secrets you’re keeping from me, right?” She asks nervously. My eyes widen and my pulse spikes with panic. 

“What? No! Definitely not.” I rush to assure her, shaking my head so hard I almost hit my head  on the window. 

“Kacia, I swear it. That was… Everything. All of it.” I promise sincerely. But she doesn’t look relieved. Her gaze just grows sadder somehow, her shoulders curling inwards like she’s trying to protect herself from an unseen blow. 

“And… You’re not going to do it again, right? Keep something huge from me? Something that could get me killed, or… Break me?” She practically whispers the words. My chest constricts so painfully I almost can’t breathe. I swallow hard and nod, forcing myself to meet her gaze without flinching. 

“I won’t, princess.” I say softly, my voice rough with honesty. 

“I promise you. No more secrets. No more lies. I regret it so much. I hate that I hurt you. I’ll never… I’ll never let myself do that again.” I mean every damn word. She stares at me for a long, silent moment, her eyes locked on mine. Searching. Weighing. I don’t know what she sees, but I hope it’s enough. Because her doubt feels like acid in my chest, burning away any last shred of pride I have left. I know I brought this upon myself, I deserve it. Hell, if a little bit of doubt is the only consequence to my actions, then I got away lightly. But that doesn’t make it fun. So I don’t look away. I let her see all of it, the guilt, the shame, the desperate, aching hope that maybe she’ll still want me here despite it all. Finally, she exhales a shaky breath. Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel once, then release. She nods, as if settling something deep inside herself.

“Okay, let’s go see my mum.” She says quietly, pushing open her door with a grimace. As I follow her out into the crisp morning air, I find myself silently praying to every god, demon, and even the fae that I never give her a reason to doubt me again.

We walk up the driveway slowly, the gravel crunching under Kacia’s boots. I try not to hover too much, but it’s hard. Every small wince or hitch in her breath has me fighting the urge to scoop her up and carry her the rest of the way. Her injuries might be mostly hidden under that long sleeved dress, but I know exactly how many bruises and cuts she’s concealing. I helped clean them, after all. She looks… Surprisingly good, considering. The dress makes her seem almost healthy, especially with her hair down around her shoulders and that beanie tucked snug over her ears. If it weren’t for the faint scratches visible on her collarbone and the tension in her shoulders, no one would ever guess how close to death she was yesterday. Which, I suppose, is the point. She doesn’t want her mother to worry. We reach the little porch and Kacia raises her hand to knock, but I can’t help myself, I slip a hand lightly around her back, just resting it there in silent reassurance. Mine. My instincts are screaming it, and honestly, I’m too tired to fight them right now. Then, without really thinking about it, my tail slips free from where I’d tucked it under my shirt. I know I probably shouldn’t let it out, especially here, where a human neighbour could wander past at any moment, but the short fence and flowering bushes give enough cover, and I’ve never been good at resisting temptation. My tail curls down and winds loosely around Kacia’s leg. She stiffens, turning to glare at me with wide, scandalised eyes.

“Behave yourself.” She hisses under her breath, her cheeks flushing pink. 

“This is my mother’s house!” She objects. Interesting that her objection was only the fact that her mother might see, not the fact that my tail is groping her leg in the first place. I smirk down at her, leaning just a little closer. 

“Or what, princess?” I murmur, letting my tail tighten around her knee playfully. 

“Will you send me to our room?” I tease. Her blush deepens instantly, blooming down her neck, and she lets out a tiny, frustrated huff. 

“Ozraed…” She warns in a low, dangerous tone, her eyes narrowing. I open my mouth to tease her further, maybe suggest she could join me in said room, purely for supervision, of course, but before I get the chance, the front door swings open with a creak.