Page 3 of Demon Daddy's Little Girl

Her dark curls frame a cherubic face, and she shows not a trace of the terror most humans display in my presence. My insignia catches the sunlight, drawing her attention. Before I can react, she reaches up with pudgy fingers toward the silver badge marking my rank.

"Pretty! Is it magic?" Her voice rings clear as bells, head tilted back so far her crown nearly touches her spine to meet my gaze.

I crouch down, bringing myself closer to her level while maintaining enough distance to not appear threatening. "Itmarks my position as Captain of the Guard. Where is your mother, little one?"

She ignores my question, focused entirely on the gleaming metal. "Does it make sparkles like my magic?"

The casual mention of magic catches me off guard. A half-demon child, then. Rare enough to be noteworthy, especially one so young. Especially with everything that is going on. Her complete lack of fear speaks to a loving upbringing, despite what must have been difficult circumstances.

"Rose! Get away from him!" A woman's panicked voice cuts through the market noise. The child - Rose - turns toward the sound but doesn't move from her spot.

"But Mama, look! His badge is shiny like my sparkles!"

I catch movement at the edges of my vision - my guards shifting their attention to the commotion. Their hands drift toward weapons, trained to view any disruption as a potential threat. In one fluid motion, I lift Rose into my arms, positioning myself between her and my overzealous patrol.

"Stand down," I command, my voice cutting through the market noise. The guards snap to attention but remain tense, eyes fixed on the approaching woman.

Rose settles against my chest without hesitation, small fingers tracing the silver cord binding my hair. "Mama's scared again," she whispers, her violet eyes dimming. "But you're nice. You make people listen."

The woman - clearly Rose's mother - pushes through the last of the crowd. Her honey-blonde hair matches Rose's curls, though fear has blanched her face white. She stops short at the sight of her daughter perched comfortably in my arms, conflict warring across her features.

"Please," she manages, voice barely steady. "My daughter-"

"Is perfectly safe." I keep my tone neutral, noting how she positions herself for a quick escape. Her clothes are well-madebut travel-worn, suggesting someone used to running. "I am Captain Dezoth of the City Guard. Your daughter was admiring my insignia."

"It makes sparkles like me!" Rose announces proudly, oblivious to the tension. She waves her hands, and tiny motes of light dance between her fingers.

Her mother flinches at the display. "Rose, don't-"

"An impressive talent," I interrupt, drawing the mother's attention back to me. Something in her stance shifts as she realizes I'm not reacting with shock or disgust to Rose's abilities. "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere less public."

Rose claps her hands. "Can we have tea? Mama makes the best tea when we're not running."

The word 'running' confirms my suspicions. The mother's eyes dart toward the market exits, but she must see something in my expression that gives her pause.

"I..." She straightens her spine, chin lifting in defiance. "We should go."

I'm not even sure why, but I know I can't let that happen. Maybe it's because I know how unsafe the city is for a half-demon child. Maybe it's because something in me cracks at seeing how desperate she is. Either way, the words come out before I can even think.

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen. By order of the City Guard, you're both detained for questioning." My voice carries the weight of authority, designed to brook no argument. The woman's face drains of color, her fingers twisting in her skirts.

Rose peers up at me, still tracing patterns on my insignia. "What's detained mean?"

"It means we're going on a little walk." I shift my stance, blocking the view of my patrol from Rose's telltale eyes. The last thing we need is more attention drawn to her unique heritage. "Lieutenant, maintain market patrol. I'll handle this personally."

"Sir-" One of my guards steps forward, but I silence him with a look.

"It's a simple detention of a human woman and child. Surely you don't think I need assistance?" I let my lip curl, injecting just enough disdain into my tone. The guard backs down immediately.

"Of course not, Captain."

Rose waves at the guards as I guide her mother down a side street with my free hand. The woman's shoulders are rigid under my touch, but she doesn't pull away.

"The detention center is-" she starts.

"Not where we're going." I keep my voice low, meant for her ears alone. "Your daughter's safety is my primary concern. My private office will suffice." I don't mention that is at my house.

Some of the tension leaves her frame, though wariness still radiates from every movement. Smart woman.

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