Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 9

**OZ**

“So…” I start, drawing out the word as I lean back against the armrest. 

“Now what? Shall we go to bed?” I ask, letting the question hang in the air. I can’t help myself, I layer the words thick with implication. Kacia instantly looks away. Her cheeks flush a soft, unmistakable pink, and she fumbles for a response she can’t seem to find. Adorable. Absolutely adorable. This woman looks like she can stab a man without blinking, but toss her a little flirtation and she goes into a full system reboot. Oh, this is going to be fun.

“If you’re not ready for bed, the couch works too.” I add with a smirk. That does it. She sputters, blinking rapidly like she’s trying to decide if I’m being serious or just messing with her. The answer is probably a little of both. I’m enjoying watching her reaction, but I wouldn’t flirt with her if I wasn’t genuinely interested. If she suddenly decided to take me up on my implied suggestions, I don’t think I could refuse.

“We could always watch a movie or something.” I offer, all innocent like, though my grin probably ruins the effect. She lets out a huff and tosses her hair back over her shoulder with more attitude than necessary. I wonder if she has any idea how good that looks. The way it frames her face, those violet eyes flashing like she’s preparing for war… Yeah. I might be in trouble here. 

“I’m going to bed. ALONE.” She declares, chin lifted stubbornly. I have to fight the urge to laugh. 

“Suit yourself.” I say, watching her retreat with way too much interest. 

“You can have the couch. I’ll get you a blanket.” She adds firmly. Then she whirls and disappears through the nearest door, slamming it behind her with the kind of force that says ‘I am NOT flustered,’ which of course means she absolutely is. I chuckle quietly to myself and stretch out on the now Kacia-less couch, tail flicking lazily over the edge. Yeah. This is going to be VERY entertaining.

**KACIA**

I slam my bedroom door behind me and faceplant straight into the bed. Ugh. What is with this guy? One minute he’s bleeding all over my couch, the next he’s a demon and worried that I’m going to kill him. And then… Then he starts saying things. Suggestive things. Sitting too close to me, walking around shirtless. I swear he’s doing it all on purpose, and don’t even get me started on that stupid tail. It’s too expressive. Like a smug punctuation mark to everything he says. This is exactly why the only guy I tolerate is Mikey. He’s safe. HE doesn’t walk around shirtless or flirt with me or wrap his tail around my leg, because he doesn’t have a tail, because he’s normal. A soft knock at my door drags me out of my spiral.

“Kacia? Would you mind if I borrowed your washing machine? My clothes have… Seen better days. And until I figure out a way to earn money, I’m not exactly in a position to replace them.” Ozraed calls out. I groan into my pillow. Why does he have to sound so reasonable now? I would be a jerk if I said no. 

“One second.” I get up and exit my room,  grab the spare blanket I pulled down earlier. I dropped it on the floor when I was rushing to make sure he hadn’t cracked his skull open in the bathroom. I open the door just enough to pass the blanket through. He’s standing there, still somehow managing to look entirely too good, even though he’s rumpled and barefoot.

“Give me your things.” I say. 

“I’ll throw on a load of laundry. I should probably clean my stuff too, it’s probably covered in... Something gross. Plus, your blood. Definitely some of that.” I add then wrinkle my nose.

“It’s kind of disgusting. Although technically... Demon blood is valuable.” I point out. That catches his attention. He tilts his head, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“Actually, I grabbed the case they were using. It’s full of vials. If you need money, you could sell them to the magic supply store in town. It is your blood.” I add. He frowns slightly. 

“Isn’t selling it illegal?”

“Not technically. STEALING it is illegal. But it’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it. I mean, I wouldn’t recommend draining yourself for cash, but... Since someone already did it, you might as well profit.” I clarify. Ozraed laughs, low and warm.

“That’s very mercenary of you. Normally I’d say I have more pride than to hawk pieces of myself, but... You’re right. No sense letting it go to waste. If you wouldn’t mind showing me where to sell it tomorrow, I’d be happy to be rid of it.” He answers cheerfully. 

“Sure. I left the case in the car, I’ll go grab it. Toss your clothes in the laundry basket. I’ll start the wash in a minute.” I instruct him, then I go grab a beanie from my dresser and yank it low over my ears. It’s dark out, and I’m just dashing to the car, so I skip the contacts. I seriously doubt I have any neighbors lurking about with binoculars.

Outside, I snatch the case from the passenger seat and rush back in, only to freeze in the entryway and nearly drop the whole thing. Ozraed is sitting on the couch. Wrapped in nothing but the blanket.

“What, what are you?!” I stammer, my eyes doing their best to not look at anything specific.

“I only have the one outfit, what did you think I was going to wear?” He asks with an infuriating shrug.

“Besides, what are you so worried about? You’ve already seen me naked. And I don’t mind.” He winks at me. I squeak, yes, squeak, and storm past him into the kitchen, burning with embarrassment as his laughter follows me like a smug shadow. I rip open the case, stuff the vials into the bottom shelf of my fridge, thank the stars I haven’t grocery shopped this week, and slam the door shut. Then I turn around… And run straight into his chest. I squeal again. This is becoming a pattern and it’s completely unacceptable. I make a silent promise to myself never to make that sound EVER again. Ozraed catches my shoulders, steadying me with one hand while the other is just casually there like this happens all the time.

“Calm down, I’m just messing with you. I am wearing shorts.” He tells me. I force myself to look. And, thankfully, yes, he’s wearing boxer shorts. Still entirely too much skin, but at least he’s technically kind of dressed. My heart rate doesn’t slow down, though. Then I feel it. Something wrapping around my leg. My first reaction is to try to yank away, but I have a feeling he would find that hilarious. I don’t even want to look, but I do it anyway. His tail is coiled around my thigh just above the knee. This guy needs to learn some boundaries. I don’t know what they consider appropriate whenever he’s from, but here that kind of thing is definitely going to get him in some serious trouble. I slap a hand to his chest and push firmly, not panicked, because I refuse to give him the satisfaction. He lets go of my shoulders and unwinds his tail from my leg with deliberate slowness, like he’s daring me to comment on it. I don’t. I’m starting to think that he KNOWS what he’s doing is inappropriate. He wants me to ask. To give him a chance to make another flirtatious statement. I scowl instead. 

“Go to sleep. You still look terrible.” I say bluntly. Then, I turn on my heel and flee the kitchen like a reasonable person. Once I’ve made it to the bathroom, I gather my poor, scattered makeup from the floor. Sadly, a lot of it is completely ruined. But enough survived that it’s worth rescuing. I shower quickly, trying not to think about how very naked Ozraed was when I burst into here earlier. I fail completely. I dry off, change into my pyjamas, and toss everything, mine and his, into the machine. I set it to run and schedule an alarm to wake me when it finishes. His clothes NEED to be dry by morning. Because if he stays like this, I will absolutely lose my mind.