Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 98

**OZ**

Kacia looks… Stressed. That’s the only word for it. Her shoulders are stiff, her jaw tight, and even though she’s trying to keep her expression calm, I can see the flicker of panic in her eyes. I guess this means there really isn’t any chance of her mending things with her grandfather. Not that it matters much, by all accounts he sounds like a complete bastard. Still, seeing the weight of it pressing down on her makes something in my chest twist. All I want to do is take that look off her face. My first instinct? Kiss her. Just lean in, catch her by surprise, and give her something else to think about for once. Damn it, Oz. Bad idea. Terrible idea. But the worst part is… It would work. For a second, I can almost imagine it, her sharp intake of breath, her hand curling into my shirt, the way she might melt against me instead of stiffening. That little spark of wicked temptation lingers, whispering it would be just this once. Shit… I force the thought away with a grimace. Kacia is my friend. That is all. And I need to keep it that way. Okay, that is a straight up lie, but if I let myself continue to cross that line, there will be no going back. She insists she’d be fine with it, that she can handle whatever risks come with me, but… I can’t. I have to protect her, yes, but I also have to protect myself. Because with the way things are now, leaving will be… Difficult. Leaving if I let the relationship deepen any further? Impossible. And I know how this ends. So instead of doing something catastrophically stupid, I bite my tongue and latch onto the first distraction that comes to mind. I glance over to where Vidar is sulking in the corner like a kicked puppy.

“Hey, have you seen Izzy around? I haven’t seen her yet.” My voice is too loud, too casual, but it works. Vidar looks over with a frown.

“No. I thought she was still following you two around.” He answers. Kacia frowns too, brow furrowing.

“I haven’t seen her… I don’t think-” She starts. 

“I’m here.” A soft voice cuts through behind us. We all whirl around. Izzy stands a few feet away, her pale eyes wide and unbothered, like she hasn’t just materialised out of thin air. 

“Where have you been?” Vidar demands, his frown deepening. Izzy shrugs, her expression unreadable.

“Around. Watching, mostly.” She answers casually. Vidar crosses his arms, bristling.

“And you didn’t think to tell me where you’ve been? I’ve been worried, you know!” He lectures. Izzy blinks, tilting her head with faint confusion, like the concept is foreign to her.

“You… Want me to tell you where I am?” She asks, slow and unsure.

“Of course.” Vidar huffs. 

“It worries me when you miss story time. What if something happened to you? I can’t exactly leave this place and go looking for you, you know!” Vidar is starting to work himself up, his voice rising with every word. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kacia’s lips curve into the faintest smile. The tension in her shoulders has eased, the shadows in her gaze replaced by amusement at Vidar’s rant. Distraction successful. Even if I didn’t get to kiss her.

Izzy just stands there, staring at Vidar while he frets over her absence, like she doesn’t quite understand what the problem is. Kacia catches my eye, and I can tell she’s thinking the same thing I am. Time to stop dancing around it.

“Hey, Izzy…” I say carefully. 

“We’ve been going over some of the prophecies Fin gave us, and… We think one of them was about you.” I inform her. Her pale eyes shift to me, unblinking, sharp and still.

 “I know.” She says simply. That makes me pause. 

“…You do?” I say slowly.

“Yes, I am the Witness. I told you that already.” She answers. Kacia takes a half step forward, her curiosity plain on her face.

 “The prophecy said the Witness remembers too much. That she doesn’t turn the wheel, just watches it spin. Is that what it means? You… Really remember everything?” She asks. Izzy nods, just once.

 “I don’t see the future like Finny.” She clarifies, smiling up at Finneas. 

“And I definitely don’t choose it. But I see more than most. I notice what others forget. And I remember. Always.” She says confidently. The way she says it, quiet, steady, without pride or complaint, sends a strange chill down my spine. Like she’s carrying a weight she’s long since accepted. Kacia presses, voice softer now.

 “And the part about walking beside whoever bleeds the most?” She questions. Izzy’s eyes flick toward her, then down, almost thoughtful.

“I told you that already, on that day when you were crying and stuff. I’m drawn to whoever is hurting the most or has the potential to be hurt the most.” She says. Huh, Kacia DID mention that, it’s definitely worrying. Also I don’t love hearing about how Kacia was crying. Now I feel guilty again. Damn it. 

“Why do you do that?” I ask. Izzy frowns. 

“Why does your heart beat?” She asks. 

“Uh… So I don’t die?” I answer. She rolls her eyes at me and tosses her curls. 

“Yeah, but also it’s not something you control. It just happens.” She clarifies. 

“So you can’t help it? How do you even know who to watch?” I demand. I want to know why she is so focussed on Kacia and how I can make it stop. 

“I just do.” She says as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. It’s also incredibly unhelpful.

Vidar, who has been standing stiff as a board, shifts like someone just punched the air out of him. His arms cross, jaw tightening.

 “And the line about saving…? About someone trying to protect you?” He asks. Izzy looks at him for a long moment. Not smiling, not frowning, just studying him with that unnerving steadiness.

 “I don’t know. It’s strange.” She responds. Vidar grits his teeth, clearly frustrated by her nonchalance. It’s sweet that he worries about her. Like an older brother or father, which is odd considering I am fairly sure that she is literally thousands of years older than him. 

“It doesn’t really matter. I’ll keep doing the same things I always do and always have done regardless.” She says simply. I just stare at Izzy, I can’t decide if I’m unsettled or jealous. She doesn’t know the future, but she doesn’t need to. She already knows her place in the world. That must be… Kind of a relief. 

By the time we finally leave the library, Kacia looks ready to collapse. She tries to play it off, throwing me one of her stubborn little smiles and insisting she’s fine, but I can tell from the way she’s walking that she’s still sore and running on fumes. I don’t push. If she wants to act tough, I’ll let her. I’ll just keep an eye on her anyway. Back at her place, she disappears down the hall, pausing only to give me this lingering look, like she’s trying to decide if she should fight me again about the couch. She doesn’t. Just shakes her head and mutters a tired goodnight. She really must be worn out if she can’t even be bothered fighting with me. I wait until her door clicks shut before I sink down into my too small couch. The cushions bite into my shoulders, my legs hang over the armrest, and my tail refuses to get comfortable no matter how I shift. Still, it’s for the best. For a long while I just lie there, staring at the ceiling. My mind is too restless, circling back over Finneas, over the prophecy, over Kacia’s pinched expression as she tried to process it. I should be relieved. We finally have clarity. But all I can think about is how much more dangerous this has made things for her. Eventually exhaustion drags me under. I don’t know how much time has passed when I wake. It’s sudden and sharp, as I am yanked out of sleep. I’m disoriented and for a moment I think it’s just my own paranoia, the usual unease of being half alert even when unconscious. But it doesn’t take long for my mind to catch up. I’m awake because I can hear a sound that tears straight through me. Kacia is screaming. I’m on my feet in an instant, claws catching the armrest as I launch myself upright. My heart hammers, instincts roaring. I don’t think. I just move. I rush down the hall, toward her room, the sound of her terror cutting through every other thought until nothing else exists.