Young Writers Society

He couldn’t make that promise. Because she wasn’t safe. She hadn’t been safe since she’d been snatched from her farm and she was never going to be safe again as long as she lived. And certainly not with a demon waiting to steal her soul.

She didn’t want to lose her soul. At least what little she had left after Aleth. It was the sole chance she ever had to see her Papa ever again. And even that was beginning to seem farfetched. If there was a god, he sure was doing a bad job of being god.

“Please come out,” Pratik called softly, a feeling in his gut telling him he was close. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Look, I can find you. But it’s going to feel horribly invasive if I sniff you out rather than you just coming out voluntarily. Please don’t make me.”

He was bluffing… he had to be. She swallowed hard.

“There are only so many trees close enough to the one you scaled that you could have jumped to…” He really didn’t want to have to drag her out or hiding by force.

She hesitated, moving her head a few inches to glance around with her eyes. He was right. Crap. If he was bluffing, he was doing a good job of it.

And if he wasn’t… well… it was probably best not to tick him off. He didn’t seem the type to have a short temper, but when you were used to Aleth, nothing seemed out of the realm of possibilities; and she certainly didn’t want him to pitch her off the branch once he found her.

She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes, taking a moment to brace her nerves, then reluctantly pushed herself up to a sitting position.

Pratik spotted her instantly and offered a gentle smile. “Hey… thank you.”

Ky couldn’t find the wherewithal to offer even half a fake smile. Instead she looked at him miserably, trembling slightly, waiting to see what he was going to do to her. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, gods, no!” Pratik shook his head quickly. “I’d never hurt you, Ky. I swear it.”

As they waited for Ky and Pratik to talk, Gabriel looked down at Quinn. She seemed so anxious right now. He wished there was more he could do to comfort her.

"...You know," he said, "I'm grateful for you standing up for me earlier."

Quinn tore her gaze away from where Pratik had walked off to.

"When you defended demons," Gabriel elaborated.

Understanding dawned on Quinn's face. She had been so caught up thinking about Ky that she probably hadn't realized what he was referring to. "It was true," she said, "and you're my friend. Even before I found out about..."

She faltered. Even though Ky and Pratik were far away, she was probably nervous about revealing the truth. She knew how dangerous it could be for demons like him.

"...I still didn't think all demons were bad," Quinn said.

"Still," Gabriel said, tone soft, "thanks, Q."

She stared at him skeptically.

Pratik couldn’t quite blame her. He knew what he was; he had no idea if she did. That is, a mercenary. But one who wouldn’t hurt her. He only hurt people who deserved it. Not people like Ky. Never people like Ky.

“This night’s going to crap, huh,” Pratik said, sitting down next to one of the trees and not quite looking up at her in hopes that would make her more at ease. “Ghosts and demons and stuff.”

Ky whimpered.

Pratik grimaced. Wrong strategy. “But… well… we’re okay, right? You’re not hurt….”

That was true. But didn’t make her feel better.

“And he made no move to try to hurt you…”

“Yet,” she sniffled.

“Maybe at all,” Pratik countered. “Probably. You never know.”

"Do you...do you think letting Ky know the whole truth would make things better?" Quinn asked, voice quiet and hesitant. She looked up at Gabriel.

Gabriel wished he could say yes. He wished he could say with certainty that if Ky knew that that he had once had wings, that he had once been something different, that Ky would suddenly decide to trust Quinn and him. That not always being a demon didn't really mean anything at all.

His shoulder blades ached at the thought of what he had once had.

"...She'd probably jump to the wrong conclusion," Gabriel finally said. "If you don't know what they're like, you'd think that I was in the one in the wrong."

The one that didn't care for humans, instead of being the one who carried so much for them that it hurt.

Ky felt sick to her stomach. She looked at Pratik miserably, but he still wasn't looking at her directly. That... helped, somehow. Not having to squirm under his gaze. She sighed softly. "He's a demon."

Pratik nodded slowly. "He told me... a minute ago, after you ran off... I didn't know before..."

Ky dug her fingernails into the soft, damp bark of the branch, anxious.

"... He also helped Quinn," Pratik offered. "That's got to count for something, right?"

"Bad men can do good things sometimes," Ky argued, shaking her head firmly. She'd learned her lesson long ago not to trust 'Nice Guys'. Not to trust any men at all, except for Tadaaki. And he was different.

"True." Pratik inclined his head, glancing up at her and then away again. She was increasingly sounding like a battered woman -- girl -- child, really. And he couldn't help but wonder what she'd been through. What was the Story of Ky that led her to this very moment in her life? "... but a rough past doesn't necessarily mean you're all bad, you know? Maybe he just wants to help."