5- But I Thought He Was Human, That’s My Bad

OZ

Despite the fact that I’m barely clinging to consciousness, I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the girl in the front seat. Well, what I can see of her, at least, while I’m crumpled up in the back seat of her car. She’s got long hair pulled into tight braids, the ends flicking every time she moves. She’s small, petite, really, but there’s something sharp in the way she holds herself. Dangerous. Like a decorative blade wrapped in silk. Gorgeous but still completely capable of drawing blood. I have… A lot of questions. Starting with who is she? Why the hell did she save me? Why did I say I owed her? That’s usually the kind of line I avoid saying aloud… Does she actually know how to use that katana? (Pretty sure the answer is yes.) And more pressingly, why the hell do I find her so ridiculously cute? Small, deadly, competent, a little chaotic. She’s wearing a leather jacket that’s definitely seen some fights, and she carries herself like someone who has zero time for bullshit. She’s like… A delicate little doll, but one that could murder you. All of that combined is apparently exactly my type. Who knew? Alright, so clearly I have issues. I can own that. But that’s not the problem here. The real issue is, why would she save a Demon? Unless… Shit. She probably doesn’t KNOW. She likely thinks I’m human, maybe a magically inclined one, but definitely not a Kakos demon who could shatter her mind if she looked into my eyes the wrong way. She hasn’t seen my tail. Or my claws. Or my horns. Honestly, I’m grateful for that, because I am not in the mood to explain right this second. But there’s something else. A scent. Fae. It’s faint, but it’s there. Sweet like honey, but diluted by her own scent. But it’s not her, not exactly. She doesn’t smell right for Fae. No sugar glazed rot beneath the surface. No illusion magic clinging to her skin. Maybe a Fae’s been in the car recently? Or maybe she’s… Dating one? I scowl at the thought. Fae don’t usually date humans. Too ‘pure’ for that, supposedly. But this girl? I could absolutely see a fae making an exception for her. What am I even thinking about? My head is spinning, thoughts looping in messy, irrational circles. Then… Dammit. She’s talking, and I’ve been so out of it that I missed it completely. Focus. Say something. ANYTHING.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask, then I cringe internally. It comes out more whiny than I intended. Definitely more demanding than I’d like. Great. Just what I need, to sound like a sulky child. She glances back at me, and one of her braids flips over her shoulder as she moves. Even that’s distracting. Stars help me.

“The hospital.” She says cheerfully, like this is all a totally normal Tuesday night.

“Unless you’ve got somewhere else you need to be?” She says almost teasingly. Shit. A hospital? That’s a bad idea. Really bad. They won’t know what to do with me. Best case scenario, they freak out and toss me in quarantine. Worst case, someone realises what I am and kills me before I can explain anything.

“I don’t need a hospital, I’m fine. It’s just blood loss. I’ll be okay in a day or two. I just need rest and something to eat.” I say quickly. She gives me a skeptical look, but after a moment’s pause, she doesn’t argue.

“If you’re sure. So… Where should I take you? Home? Or maybe a friend’s place?” She suggests.

“Oh, uhhh…” My brain stalls. Wow. Unless I pull myself together soon she’s going to think I have exactly three brain cells. I blame the blood loss.

“I don’t really…” I start but then trail off. Come on, say something useful. I’ve survived being kidnapped TWICE and having my blood drained, and I can’t answer a basic question from a girl? Damn it all. She must pick up on the awkward mess that is me right now, because her voice softens.

“Not an option, huh? Well, I guess you can crash on my couch tonight. I’m not usually in the habit of bringing random guys home with me, but I did just pull you out of a blood harvesting den, so... Seems like I’m committed now. It would be a waste of effort if I let you die on the street. Besides, you don’t seem like you’re in any condition to bother me.” She adds with a grin. I bristle. Bother her? I could flatten a small army if I had even HALF my strength back. I want to growl, to snap back something sarcastic, but… She’s not wrong. Right now, I’m basically an overgrown blood bag with a tail problem and nothing to offer but charmingly pitiful eye contact. Not to mention, she’s offering me a place to sleep. So I suppose I'll have to push down my price and accept her generous offer. And later… Well later I’ll show her exactly what I’m capable of. But for now? I lean back and close my eyes, letting her voice and the hum of the car lull me into something close to sleep.

I'm not sure how long we’ve been driving. Time’s gone a bit fuzzy around the edges and my brain feels like it’s wrapped in cotton. But I can feel the subtle shift in momentum as she pulls the car into a driveway and parks. I force myself to sit up, biting back a groan. Every muscle complains, my joints creak, and lethargy clings to me like wet fabric.

“Lucky for you I live on the bottom floor.” She says as she hops out and swings the back door open.

“I’m not sure you’re up to stairs right now, and I’m definitely not big enough to drag you up any. Do you need a hand, or can you make it yourself?” She asks. I shrug. Technically, I MIGHT be able to make it on my own. But realistically? Probably not. I’d likely fall on my face. I’m not going to turn down her help. She slips her arm around my waist again like it’s the most natural thing in the world, guiding me out of the car and steadying me as I drape my arm over her shoulder. And as we move toward her apartment, two thoughts cross my mind in rapid succession. One, there is NO way she knows I’m a demon. No one gets this close to a demon voluntarily. If she did know, she’d be a lot more cautious. Or trying to kill me. Or both. And two, she fits perfectly under my arm. Warm, solid, soft in a way that makes me feel grounded and safe.  I’m not entirely sure I want to let go.

Her apartment is small but well kept, and surprisingly cozy. She helps me over to a deep navy blue couch and I all but collapse onto it, exhaling as the cushions absorb me. It’s stupidly comfortable. Then I realise that I’m a total mess and I’m probably ruin it, so I sit up and go still, trying not to make it worse. I glance around, curiosity overcoming my exhaustion. Her space is… Unexpected. Equal parts badass and beautiful. There’s a weapons rack mounted on one wall, blades gleaming, lovingly maintained. Short swords, throwing knives, a katana or two. I want to get up and examine them, but my body has firmly vetoed that plan. And then, there are the details. Pretty white flowers arranged in a vase on the coffee table. Embroidered throw pillows, and scented candles everywhere. It’s the kind of place you’d expect to belong to two very different people. But no, this is all her. And it somehow makes perfect sense.

“Just hang out here for a minute.” She says, already kicking off her boots by the door.

“I’ll find us something to eat. I would say you should get cleaned up, but honestly, I don’t want you passing out in my shower, so it can wait.” She pauses near the doorway to the kitchen, gesturing toward the couch.

“Don’t worry about the upholstery, by the way. I had a spell put on it, impervious to dirt. Cost me a bit, but totally worth it. Originally the spell was designed for toddler proofing furniture, but it works just as well on blood and battle grime as it does on juice boxes and red wine.” She grins then disappears into the kitchen, and I let my head tip back against the cushions. The scent hits me again. Sweet, faintly floral… Fae. Lingering in the air, soaked into the fabric of the space. Not overwhelming. But distinct. I WANT to ask. But I don’t. Only a few species can identify scents like this, and if I let her know I picked up on it, it might raise questions I’m not ready to answer. Better she keeps thinking I’m mostly human. At least until I can stand on my own again.

Still, the guilt prickles at the edge of my thoughts. She saved me. Took me into her home without hesitation. And here I am, letting her believe a lie. It’s a lie of omission. But every moment she believes I’m something I’m not is a form of deception. If I were in my natural form, I’d heal faster. I’d probably even be mostly recovered by now. Maybe, once I eat, I’ll have enough strength to slip off and shift back to myself. Even just for a moment, to reset things. The bathroom might work. It would be private enough. She returns a few minutes later with a plate stacked high with chicken sandwiches. I might actually be drooling. My stomach growls so loudly it echoes. Okay, not my most dignified moment, but whatever. I haven’t eaten since before I was summoned. That was, what, three days ago? Give or take a blackout or two. She places the plate between us without comment. We sit in silence and eat, and I demolish most of them before I even think to slow down. She doesn’t tease me for it. Doesn’t judge. Just lets me devour what I need like I’m not some stray she dragged off the street. With food in my system, I can feel the spark of energy returning. Slow, but steady. Demons heal fast, but not without fuel. I should be mostly okay by morning. And then… I’ll figure out how to balance the scales. I said I owed her, and whether she knows it or not, that was a bargain. My word’s binding. Damn it. Oops.

“So…” She starts, glancing at me with casual curiosity.

“This is kind of weird timing, but you weren’t really up for chatting before… What’s your name?” She asks. I blink. Right. Have I seriously not told her? She brought me into her home, fed me, tended to me, and she doesn’t even know my name? I don't know her name either. Why would she bring a nameless stranger back to her home? Is she stupid? I glance around her living room again, my eyes catching on the wall of weapons. Okay. Not stupid. Just confident in her ability to end anyone who becomes a threat.

“My name is Ozraed Faerwald.” I say, simply. Her lips curve into a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Ozraed. Although, I think we can agree the circumstances could’ve been better. My name is Kacia Hunter.”