Page 7 of How Not to Charm Your Human Colleague (Falling for Demons #2)

THE LOSING BATTLE

Aofe

E ight days since being rescued and taken to Heck. Four days of working for a demon.

Routine was always better to keep Aofe busy.

It gave her something to push through, a purpose, and she inhaled the information Kizros gave her.

She might not have the same education as the demon, but she could follow instructions and learn on the go.

There had been a benefit to spending so much of her life in infirmaries, despite the annoyance it had caused her aunt and uncle, but they didn’t deserve her thoughts on that any longer.

It didn’t matter now, they didn’t matter, only that she adjusted to her new life.

Which was going to be a challenge, considering how her body currently felt .

Aofe glanced out the window as she sat at the front counter, letting her latest attempt at the preventative mixture settle.

She’d gotten Kizros’s help with more of the substitute ingredients, but no matter what she did, she could not get it to be palatable.

Just a touch of that bitterness on her tongue made her want to retch, and it was almost worse than actually dealing with period cramps.

But the moon taunted her through the window, stealing her thoughts. Day, but not. Always dark, always cold, and the aching in her joints—particularly the dislocation of her hip that she’d already had to fix twice today—plus the sluggishness of the morning were starting to compound.

She turned back to the task at hand because knives in an unsteady grip were a recipe for disaster.

With a few unintentionally jagged cuts, she sliced off the piece of fruit she’d grabbed from the kitchen counter earlier.

Food in Heck wasn’t all that different than she’d expected; they had their own variations of meat, vegetables, and fruit.

Nothing had upset her stomach—though the meat had been a little more gamey than she was used to—but she hadn’t tried everything yet.

Including this odd-looking fruit-thing. The rind was a deep pink, with soft spiky bits that looked like they were meant to be peeled back—if she’d been capable of that. But she was currently in denial and pretended that using a knife was a more civilized way to remove the skin of the fruit.

The pit was firm and a soft white, but the fleshy, edible part was a lush yellow that reminded her of day lilies. How sad, that she was fantasizing about the daytime in a fruit she could hold in her hand.

Then she took a bite.

“Sinful sugar,” she blurted around the juices blooming on her tongue. It wasn’t just a reminder of day; this was sunshine in a food. Sweet, but not overpowering. A perfect flavor to wash that lingering bitterness?—

Aofe grabbed a crutch, stumbling to the back room where Kizros was working. He was hunched over his worktable, so focused on his measuring that she stopped herself at the doorway.

Even in just a few days, seeing such a large demon doing such small tasks had become normal.

She often found herself mesmerized by Kizros: the delicate work his fingers could do with and without claws that retracted, his passion whenever he got to talking about a potion idea he had, how he adjusted his glasses and smiled wide whenever she walked into a room.

He did that now as he looked up from his work, pushing the black frames up his nose. But that smile promptly fell off his face when he looked at her hand. “What… are you doing with that vefuricot?”

Aofe glanced down at the fruit in her hand. “Eating?”

Kizros gaped but said nothing else.

Momentary panic clenched her stomach. “What? Is it poisonous? It was on your counter?—”

“It’s safe,” he said quickly, eyes wide. His head cocked. “ You… like it?”

She cocked her head right back. “It might be the best thing I’ve eaten here. If you don’t like it, why do you have it?”

“It’s, uh…”

Kizros didn’t often lack words, but when he did, it usually resulted in the same nervous mumbling—and blushing—he was currently experiencing.

Aofe chuckled. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Does it have any deactivating properties?”

“For…”

“The contraceptive I’ve been working on,” she clarified. “This flavor would balance the bitterness and make it consumable, if it doesn’t negatively interact with any of the ingredients.”

Kizros stared at her for a long time, and while he was not shy about that act either, this one was stranger than his others. Finally, he scratched at the hair twisting around his left horn. “Uh, that would work. You’re using the preservation rune on the vials?”

Her shoulders deflated. “Just the ones that you etched. I still can’t get the rune to work for me.”

His momentary confusion melted away, replaced with a soft, reassuring smile. “You’ll get it. I know.”

The bell over the shop door rang, and Kizros stood from his seat.

He crossed the room in two strides and patted her shoulder.

It wasn’t hard, just a casual touch that he’d made sure she was comfortable with as they’d started working together, but the contact with her joint sent pain searing down her arm.

Her hand flared, and if it weren’t for her proximity to the wall, she might have fallen.

He jerked his hand back. “I’m so sorry?—”

“It’s not…” She swallowed, forcing her fingers to curl back over the crutch handle. “You weren’t rough, just caught me off guard.”

She put a smile on her face, beaming up at him with what she knew was convincing nonchalance.

She knew it was convincing because she’d used it on him all yesterday after he noticed her having trouble balancing, and he hadn’t brought it up again.

Nor did he mention anything about the waning pallor of her skin after she’d reminded him that insults were rude.

The bell rang again, and since Tim didn’t have anyone screaming in his grip, likely a second demon entered the shop. Kizros nodded, then breezed past her to greet the customers.

Aofe blew out a breath of pain, then another as she prepared herself to go back out and survive the rest of the day. By the time she’d managed to spin herself around, the voices had started to carry.

“I’m aware, Moraxas, and I assure you?—”

“It’s not the same,” the customer was saying, and with how frustrated they sounded, Aofe hung back in the hallway. “Selling this to me is false marketing.”

“And I’m assuring you that there is no difference in the potency of this potion compared to the one you purchased last month.”

Even in the short span she’d known Kizros, Aofe could hear how strained his politeness sounded.

“No difference?” the customer spat. “Except it was one of those filthy humans who tainted it.”

“Humans do not taint , Moraxas. I oversaw every step of the process, and just because she was the one to combine?—”

“You admit it, then. There’s a difference. The former potion you sold me was made entirely by demon hands and magic. This one was not.”

Aofe pressed herself against the wall, feeling an uncomfortable pit grow in her stomach. Her cheeks burned, but she held out, waiting for Kizros’s answer.

When it finally came, it was quiet. “I will refund you, and I can offer a replacement?—”

“Until you get rid of that thing , I want nothing to do with your shop.”

Shame burned Aofe’s cheeks as she waited for the final exchange of money and the bell to indicate the demon had left.

She would have turned and fled if she hadn’t needed her other crutch, but even the back workroom wasn’t safe from Kizros coming to find her.

He’d reprimand her for messing up a potion and losing him a customer.

Maybe tell her that this wasn’t working out and send her away for some other demon to handle.

No, might as well face that shame now. It’s not like the day could get any worse.

She peeked out of the hallway to see Kizros hanging his head as his tail swished limply by the ground. He’d rolled his sleeves up, forearms flexing as he leaned on the counter over that tiny vial returned by the customer.

Aofe remembered that one, too. How excited she’d been to have done almost every step by herself, even if he’d supervised.

Obviously he’d helped with the runes, but there had been delight and pride on Kizros’s face when she’d finished.

It had made her want to immediately do another, even if it was late, just so he could stand over her shoulder and give her directions.

Keep talking. Radiate warmth in his laughter and proximity.

At the click of her crutch, Kizros jerked upright and turned, trying to hide the vial with his large body. His smile might have worked, if she hadn’t seen his eye twitching or the uncomfortable way he squirmed.

“I overheard,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

He deflated, shoulders sinking, and that was somehow worse. Kizros was always so bright, so happy, and she had been the cause of this disappointment.

“I’ll just go back and work on the human medicines,” she whispered, discarding the vefuricot rind as she reached for her other crutch.

Kizros’s hand circled her wrist, claws retracted, before she could grab her mobility aid. His grip was so warm, even over the fabric of her long sleeve, and much more gentle than she would have thought a hand that massive could be. “Aofe, wait?—”

“So the rumors are true,” another voice said from within the shop, and Aofe suddenly remembered the second chime of the bell.

Kizros’s hand was gone in an instant, and Aofe could have sworn his teeth had elongated into a snarl before he forced a smile and turned to face the customer. “Tholvich, what brings you here today?”

A dark blue demon stepped out from the aisles, nearly a head taller than Kizros.

His tail was thick and leathery, lined not in spikes, like Goldy, but slightly hooked barbs.

She could see them along the muscles of his forearm, too, though they looked to be just as retractable as claws, which this demon had also not bothered to do.

His smile looked broad, but where Kizros’s was soft and genuine, this one looked almost sinister.

Maybe that was the terrifying dual horns on either side of his head, the top set long and curving back, the lower set shorter and sharp.

Tholvich gestured around him, but his black eyes stayed focused on Aofe as he said, “Wanted to see how things were going since I was last here. Check in on you. Won’t you introduce me?”

Beside her, hidden by the counter, Kizros’s fist curled. It was in complete contrast to his voice which remained polite, if not stilted. “Tholvich, Aofe. Aofe, this is Tholvich, my former assistant.”

Aofe noticed the demon didn’t bow in greeting. She didn’t either.

His nostrils flared slightly before he finally took those unsettling dark eyes away from her. “Business struggling a bit, Kizros? I didn’t think you’d be so desperate for help when I left that you’d foolishly doom your business by leashing one of those human women. But I can’t say I’m surprised.”

More shame curled up Aofe’s throat. She wanted to defend herself, wanted to flee or bash this demon’s skull in with her crutch. But there was a malice she could feel surrounding this demon, and she was well aware of which battles she would not survive unscathed. Especially today.

“Does she speak? Or is that part defective as well?—”

“If you’re not here to purchase anything, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Kizros stated firmly, a growl lingering underneath his voice that Aofe had never heard.

Tholvich placed a hand over his heart, mocking a frown. “That’s quite rude, Kizros.”

“Buy something or leave,” Kizros snapped.

Just as quickly, Tholvich held up a vial, almost like a peace offering. He stalked toward them then set it on the counter, and this much closer, Aofe felt more than just fear in her gut as she noticed it was a mixture she had done.

He’d picked it out off a shelf with hundreds more surrounding it.

And known exactly which one she had made.

He grinned at Kizros’s growl, possibly at realizing the same thing. “Or maybe I’m wrong and you’re the real reason you’ve been losing business since the human showed up. You’ve never been so rude. Her species really is a… taint.”

Kizros stared at the vial, long enough that Aofe’s shame had time to claw its way up her throat again.

“Is it true?” she asked quietly.

“No,” the green demon said, too quickly. And with the way he was keeping his back turned, she knew he was hiding his eye twitch.

He was losing business because of her.

You’re a burden. An inconvenience. You’ll just get in the way.

The words echoed in her mind unbidden, no place for her to shove them away or ignore like she’d been doing her pain.

Aofe reached for her crutch. “I’m going to check the back.”

Kizros finally turned, concern marring his kind face. “Aofe, wait?—”

“Excuse me,” Tholvich said loudly, just as the bell chimed to indicate another demon entering. “Another paying customer? Or a return?”

Ignoring the shop, Kizros reached out for her. “Please, Aofe?—”

“It’s fine,” she lied, using a surge of energy to dodge his grip and give him a deflecting smile. “I’ve got things I can do”— a financial disaster. Too demanding. Lazy —“in the back.”

She knew Kizros wouldn’t follow her, not with someone in the shop. She turned and…

Fled. She was fleeing, wasn’t she? After fighting so many battles today, this was the one that made her give up.

Aofe avoided the workroom. There was nothing more she could do to her contraceptive today, and she wasn’t about to taint any of the other potions Kizros was working on, even if she knew how to make them.

The first of the stairs was an effort, then there was pain flaring in her hip.

She bit down on her excuses, fighting for the next step and the next.

Over and over, until there was no recollection of how she’d made it back to her room.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she collapsed into bed, each movement more painful than the last.

Sleep. She just needed to sleep this off, and by morning, maybe her pain would be more bearable. Maybe she could think for longer than a few seconds as to how she might still help Kizros without hurting his business.

But as she looked out the window toward the moonlit street, shivering under the thick pool of blankets on her bed, she wondered how much longer she could actually survive here.

If she could keep getting up every dark day and power through pain and sickness so Kizros wouldn’t see the truth about her.

When morning came, the answer was no.