Page 21 of How Not to Charm Your Human Colleague (Falling for Demons #2)

TIPPING POINT

Aofe

A ofe breathed through the pain as she sat down, barely setting her crutches aside before Attie was there. She nuzzled into Aofe’s lap, rubbing her chin over her thighs like she knew Aofe couldn’t massage those muscles herself.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Aofe whispered, resting her hands on Attie’s head.

It was embarrassing how hard she had been breathing just to hold in any grunts that Kizros might have heard as they walked the stalls. Each booth had something to stop for: an art piece that reminded him of something from the shop or his past, or a demon who knew him personally.

And Kizros had so many stories to tell.

Each time she finally had the courage to ask him if they could leave, he’d spot something and launch into another animated retelling.

All Aofe could picture were his family members, shutting down his enthusiasm and dismissing what he had to say.

She remembered how dejected he’d been at that dinner and thus kept quiet.

Just a few more things to see . Make it to the next booth, and there’s a bench. He’s so happy—don’t ruin this for him.

But that was dozens of booths ago, hundreds of steps, if not more, and to make matters worse, the crowds were growing , not dwindling, this late into the evening. Finding a bench had been a boon.

“There’s one of those humans.”

“Violent creatures must be drawn to one another if she’s attracted an atteapir.”

“That’s the defective one working at Perennial Bloom. That’s why I switched to Tholvich’s shop.”

She didn’t look up, but she could feel the stares as demons walked past. Some made poor attempts to hide their whispers, others plainly called them out. Mostly the latter, now that Kizros wasn’t with her.

Attie whimpered, and Aofe buried her hands into the creature’s silver fur. “Shh, it’s not worth it.”

While she’d known not to pick a fight with Tholvich for reasons other than the words he hid behind, she didn’t have the energy to fight these demons with her own wit. And even when Kizros returned from whatever had distracted him this time, she wasn’t going to risk anything that might upset him.

Not after the flowers .

Not after his display in front of the other demon.

Not after everything he’d done for her that she was starting to suspect might not be as innocent as he made it seem.

It happened so fast, not even Attie had time to react.

One second, Aofe was sitting on the bench.

The next, her world was flipping. Her arms tightened around Attie’s neck, and on instinct, her legs kicked to find purchase.

Pain flared, and then she was taking Attie’s weight to the ground with her own.

The only thought Aofe had was avoiding crushing Attie. She twisted?—

Sharp pain.

Her leg gave out.

Aofe’s hip hit first, then Attie collapsed under her, keeping the rest of her body from tumbling after. But that was worse, and Aofe took the full brunt of the fall with a single point on her upper leg. She hissed at the contact, then nearly cried out as her leg spasmed.

Scrambling despite the pain, Aofe grabbed her thigh and maneuvered her leg until the shooting pain finally eased into something dull.

She let out a whimper of relief, panting as tears fell from her eyes, but at least she could think somewhat clearly now that the agonizing fire had settled from her nerves.

Two hands grabbed her cheeks, gentle but firm, and then Kizros’s face was in front of hers, his mouth moving but no sound reaching her ears.

No, there was a ringing in her head, so loud there was nothing else.

Aofe shifted her jaw, her ears popped, and suddenly his voice was there.

“—you okay? What hurts? Aofe, say something.”

She swallowed, tasting blood as she found a sore spot on her tongue.

Was she okay? Relatively, yes. Her leg was still there, albeit cramping.

Attie was already curled up against her, supporting how she’d had to twist her hip to be comfortable.

And her crutches weren’t broken from the tumble—that was good—splayed not far from where she’d fallen.

But then she made the mistake of looking past Kizros’s distressed features, to the crowd beginning to form. To a pale-yellow demon with spiral horns standing a fraction closer than the rest, laughing at her expense as his tail slowly unwound from the leg of her tipped bench.

Embarrassment flooded Aofe, her cheeks burning as she jerked out of Kizros’s grip. “My leg cramped. It’s fine.”

Kizros’s presence was suddenly gone, and Aofe turned just as he’d made it to the demon who was still laughing. To her shock and horror, she watched Kizros grab him by the horn and yank him forward.

“Whoa, creeper, what are you?—”

“Apologize,” Kizros snarled, sharpened teeth bared as he dragged the yellow demon closer.

More heat flooded Aofe’s cheeks, the crowd mumbling around them. “Kiz, stop. ”

“Let go of me, you old freak,” the demon muttered, holding onto Kizros’s wrist for balance. “You’re going to break my horn.”

Kizros wasn’t large by demon standards, Aofe had noticed, but this demon was lanky in comparison.

“I’ll do a whole lot worse if you don’t apologize to her right now,” Kizros growled, and when he looked her direction again, Aofe had to fight the instinct to flinch away from his fury.

When the offending demon said nothing, Kizros’s grip tightened, his other hand moving toward the vulnerable tip of the horn in his hold.

“Ow, ow, okay! Sorry!” the teen finally shouted, twisting just enough to pull free of Kizros’s grip. “It was just a prank, geez. It was a bet, that’s all.”

Aofe’s stomach turned sour, but only for the time it took the young demon to turn and run into another chest.

Severath glared down, eye narrowed as he snagged the demon’s shirt. “Is there a problem here?”

“He tipped her bench!” Kizros shouted, much louder than was necessary considering the crowd had gone silent now that the warrior was here.

The red demon snarled at the teen who actively cowered in his grip, then softened his features when he looked to Aofe in question. “Would you like me to detain him until a guard can come and take your statements? Including witnesses?”

He said the last bit loud enough that several demons in the crowd cursed and scurried away.

Which only made Aofe feel worse.

“No,” she whispered, hand curling into Attie’s fur.

“Yes,” Kizros said immediately, stomping back to where she’d curled on the ground. He knelt, taking her free hand in both of his. “We can wait, Aofe. He hurt you.”

“Kiz—”

“I’m going to press charges,” he was already saying to Severath, unaware that the giant demon warrior was only looking at Aofe with a concerned but understanding gaze.

“Kiz,” Aofe said, a little louder, but when he continued to detail what he’d seen as he returned, she’d had enough. “Kiz!”

He immediately fell silent, eyes widening.

Aofe swallowed, curling into herself as much as she could. She pulled her hand out of his. “I want to go home.”

“But—”

“Please,” she said, barely louder than a breath. “I just want to forget about this and go home.”

His chest rose and fell, then his chin dipped.

An answer, and yet he said nothing as his tail wrapped around her crutches and handed them back to her.

He helped her stand and pointed toward the exit, Attie lingering close and Kizros following behind.

Severath was quiet, still holding the squirming demon as Aofe limped past, but she didn’t acknowledge the teen.

She only gave Severath a small nod, one that he returned, and continued on her way.

By the time they were sitting in a cart and heading back to the shop, Attie curled on the seat next to her, Kizros still hadn’t spoken.

He stared out at the street, pensive, and Aofe could feel her insides twisting even more uncomfortably than the pain in her hip.

Gone was the sharpness of her muscles spasming, leaving her with a soreness that would likely dull further with a warm bath and some gentle stretching.

Aofe chanced a closer look at Kizros, his fist pressed to his mouth and chin as he held his head up. He’d picked the corner as far from her as possible, kept his gaze anywhere but on her.

Disappointment—that’s all she could see from this angle with his deflated posture and glasses fogging from his breath. And she’d been the one to put that emotion there.

He’d been so happy at the festival, talking to all of his acquaintances, playing the games, and visiting the art stations. That unreserved smile was gone now, and it was all because of her.

She’d asked to leave. She’d been the one to inconvenience him with two cart trips because she couldn’t walk the short distance to the event. She’d been the reason his fun evening had suddenly become a disaster.

Did he regret taking her in yet? Not only had she slowly been affecting his business, now she’d brought out a side of him that he despised. Kizros, the demon who abhorred violence, had raised his voice not once now, but twice.

Because of her.

Tears pricked her eyes again, and Aofe swore to herself that she wouldn’t break.

Not here in this cart, not in the shop, and not behind closed doors.

Maybe she could wait until he disappeared and do something for the apothecary to make up for being such a burden.

She could sweep the aisles, assuming she could manage staying upright for that long.

Water all the plants, take inventory, reorganize the garden beds in the greenhouse.

She wouldn’t touch the potions or ingredients, lest another disgruntled customer accuse her of tampering with their strengths, but there were other things she could do to earn her keep.

Possibly reach out to Rosalind or Brioni to see if that post position was still available to her.