Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 79

**KACIA**

I feel a little more cheerful now that there’s at least a slim chance that one of Annie’s sons isn’t a complete write off. Maybe. Possibly. I'm choosing to interpret the fact that Elias hasn’t completely dropped off the map as a good sign, a small, flickering spark of hope that not all of Annie’s boys are beyond redemption. It’s not much, but I’ll take it. Anything to make this whole mess feel a little less bleak. Plus… We’re headed back to Ulric’s shop. Which, if I’m being honest, is one of the few places in this city that actually feels like a safe zone. A home base. It’s cluttered and borderline chaotic, but it smells like cinnamon bark, dried ink, and sunbaked herbs, comforting in a way that sticks to the back of your throat like warm tea and nostalgia. Everything inside looks like it was sorted by a half blind magpie with a hoarding problem, but somehow, Ulric always knows exactly where to find whatever you need. Goblin organisation is a mystery wrapped in madness, but it works. Mostly. I pull the car into the narrow street and slide into a space just short of the alleyway. The sun’s high and hot on the windscreen, but the alley itself is a pocket of cool shadow, all crooked lines and ivy-covered brick. As we walk toward the shop, I catch a faint shimmer, warding runes activating in the air just overhead, woven into the charms and bundles of herbs strung across the entrance. There’s more of them than last time. Definitely. The magical barrier here is thicker now, still subtle, but firmer, like the shop is hiding behind a locked door. I guess my impromptu basilisk encounter on the doorstep spooked Ulric more than he let on. I glance at Oz beside me. He doesn’t SAY anything, but I can feel the tension in his frame, not fear, just memory. I was unconscious last time we came here, paralysed from a basilisk's stare. He had to carry me inside, fight off a magically enhanced monster, and pretend he wasn’t panicking the whole time. It’s been long enough that the bruises are gone (from that incident at least), but the moment still lingers. For both of us. We step inside. The door gives its usual creaky groan, and the instant we cross the threshold, the enchantments settle over my skin like a warm static hum. The scent hits me immediately, burnt thyme, dust, aged parchment, something vaguely lemony and sharp. Familiar and safe. I’m glad the basilisk attack didn’t ruin that for me. And then… Chaos. Two small shapes explode from behind a stack of mismatched books near the front window, moving fast enough to blur.

“HE’S BACK!” One of them screams, I’m pretty sure that’s Ace, and launches himself like a goblin missile straight at Oz’s legs. His twin, Ian, is hot on his heels, arms outstretched like he’s trying to catch a squirrel. Except the squirrel is Oz’s tail, and unfortunately for them, Oz is both faster and more coordinated than your average woodland creature. He dodges the first goblin with a pivot that would make a dancer proud, twisting to lift his leg just out of reach and flicking his tail behind him with precise, smug little twitches. 

“You little monsters again?” He says, half grinning as they shriek with laughter and redouble their efforts to grab him. His tail dances out of reach, snapping side to side with playful cruelty, and the twins go berserk. Seriously, if he isn’t planning to stick around, he needs to stop being so sweet. It’s bad for my heart. I leave him to fend off the tiny chaos gremlins and make my way to the counter, where Ulric is watching the whole thing unfold with a kind of exhausted amusement. His arms are folded, one thick brow raised, and he’s wearing that familiar expression that means he’s pleased you’re here but refuses to admit it out loud.

“Well, you’re not dead. That’s a pleasant surprise.” He says at last. I grin, stepping up to the counter. 

“Nice to see you too. Sorry for the whole surprise basilisk attack last time. I didn’t exactly plan on dragging that kind of trouble to your front door. Then again, I rarely PLAN for people to try and kill me.” I frown. Ulric exhales slowly through his nose. There’s a flicker of something behind his eyes, guilt, maybe? Or just weariness. 

“I should’ve done more. Gotten you out of the street faster. Found help. I don’t know. Anything.” He says. His voice is gruff, but not unkind. Just honest. Which is maybe rarer than kindness anyway. I shake my head and wave him off. 

“You did fine, Ulric. You’ve got your boys to protect, and Oz was already handling things. I was in good hands. It’s not like you left me bleeding out or threw me into the gutter.” I remind him. His frown lingers a second longer, but then he nods, the tight line of his shoulders easing slightly. 

“Still… If you ever need anything, if there’s something I can do to help… You come to me first. No hesitation. No bullshit.” He mutters, quieter now. That’s Ulric-speak for ‘I care more than I’m comfortable admitting.’ It’s nice to have friends. 

I glance back at Oz, who currently has one goblin climbing his leg like a tree and the other chasing his tail like it’s enchanted prey. He’s fending them off with just enough effort to keep it entertaining, flicking his tail out of reach with the smug precision of a cat that knows it’s too fast to be caught. There’s laughter in his eyes even if he’s trying to pretend he’s annoyed. I smile faintly and turn back to Ulric.

“Actually…” I start, fishing the folded sheet of paper from my pocket. 

“I DO have a favour to ask.” I admit. Ulric straightens behind the counter, posture sharpening a little. He’s not the sort of man, or goblin technically, to get surprised easily, but his expression shifts to something closer to guarded curiosity as I unfold the printout and slide it toward him. 

“Have you ever seen these guys around?” I ask as I present him with the three printed photos. Three names. Elias, Colton, and Nathan Benton. He leans in immediately, scanning each face in turn. His brow furrows deep as he taps the two older boys, Colton and Nathan, with one calloused finger.

“Yeah.. These two? Arrogant little bastards. Came in loud, tried to sell me crap like ogre teeth and ‘authentic’ pixie wings. I told them to get lost. They got mouthy, and I banned them from the shop.” He huffs, clearly still annoyed. “

I don’t need language like that around my boys. Or customers who try to pass off garbage as relics.” He mutters. I suspect they offended him. Probably assumed that they could trick him somehow. He pauses on the third photo. Elias.

“This one though… He was different.” Ulric’s tone changes subtly. Softer. Less disdainful. 

“Polite. Quiet. Nervous, even. Came in on his own a couple times. Sold me a few harmless trinkets. Old spellbooks with half the pages missing, a bundle of dried rosemary wrapped in twine. Nothing illegal. Nothing dangerous.” He adds. 

“Did he try to sell you blood?” Oz asks from behind me. There’s a faint rustle as he shifts, probably shaking a goblin off his leg. Ulric frowns deeply. 

“No. He didn’t bring up anything like that. Not directly, anyway. He asked once, just a kind of vague ‘would you ever consider buying more valuable magical ingredients’ kind of thing. I said maybe, if it was legit and documented. Didn't think much of it. People come in here asking stranger things every week.” He narrows his eyes at me. 

“You lot included.” He adds. 

“We take that as a compliment.” I respond with a smirk and lean forward a little, elbows on the counter. 

“You didn’t know he was connected to the other two?” I ask. Ulric shakes his head. 

“Never came in together. Never mentioned them. Didn’t act like them either. Didn’t really look like them, although I guess they kind of look alike when you compare their pictures like this. The other two swaggered in like they owned the place. This one… He looked like he was borrowing confidence just to walk through the door. Thought he might’ve been a uni kid. Or a witch in training maybe. He asked a lot of questions, but he wasn’t pushy.” He explains. 

“You thought he was a witch?” I ask, intrigued. A witch would explain how they know which people have enough magical blood in them to be worth draining. Ulric shrugs. 

“Had that vibe. Bookish. A little scattered. Wore too many layers. He didn’t seem to know much, but he was trying to learn. Figured he might’ve been apprenticing under someone, or trying to. Definitely not your typical back alley blood dealer.” He concludes with a frown. 

“Huh, interesting.”  I murmur. I glance toward Oz. He’s watching quietly now, holding a squirming goblin child under each arm like mismatched footballs. His tail twitches slightly but the kids have stopped chasing it, content to hang from him like oversized accessories. I refocus on Ulric. 

“Did the other two seem magical to you?” I ask. 

“I only saw them briefly, but they didn’t give off that kind of energy.” I add. Ulric snorts. 

“Nah, they seemed totally mundane. Except for the fact that they knew about this place… And how to get in here…” He adds, squinting slightly. 

“But they said they’d heard about me from one of the other stores in town. And there are a few humans in the know, so I figured they were just part of that circle.” He reasons. I nod slowly, though I’m not quite convinced. 

“Hm. The thing is… The youngest one, Elias, might be in trouble. We really need to track him down before things get worse.” I inform him. Beside me, Oz tilts his head. 

“Any chance he left contact info? An address, maybe?” He asks. Ulric hesitates. Ah damn it. This might take some convincing.