Page 16 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

But when? How? I’d never shared my essence, the very fiber of my soul, with anyone. I strummed my fingers along his shaky head, contemplating the possibilities. I’d resisted relinquishing it to the most brutish enemies, yet he’d snapped up a piece for himself. How?

“Your essence?” He had that annoying contemplative realization look on, which would result in too much talking. “Everything I’ve read says devils don’t break apart. That doesn’t make any—”

I slapped a hand over his face, palm smooshed against his soft lips, silencing him because the literal last thing I needed was a Walteresque level lecture.

I thought back to our interactions. Not the last three years, but this eve. When could he have done it? Perhaps when I was possessing this host? Running my fingers through his soft hair, I shook his head then mine. That didn’t add up. Walter was many things, but successful wasn’t one of them. Also, lying he couldn’t do. His pasty little ears would’ve given him away. And a dozen other signals. For one, he wouldn’t have fled. He’d have been arrogant about it. He did cockily attempt to cast against me, after all. No. Fight or flight, perhaps. Desperate last act of rebellion. A ‘fuck it’ mentality, maybe?

Walter wasn’t brave though. Well, except when he took that little beating and tried… I craned my neck. That was it.

“Clearly, my time in the orb had an effect. Obviously, when you failed to stop my release—a running trend for you—a sliver of the orb holding my essence crept inside you.”

“Meaning, what?”

I released his hand, though I wanted to clutch it until I snapped the limb off. It’d make no difference since my essence circulated through every cell of his body, defending him from my wrath and any other minor threats he’d face. “It means you need to return it. Give it back, and I promise to make your death quick and entirely painless.”

“Yeah, fuck you. That’s not happening.”

I grimaced. My sales pitch was lacking. Still, he could’ve countered. That kind of language was going to get us nowhere.

“This is a Diabolic binding,” Walter clarified more to himself than me; I knew because he had that thinking-out-loud glimmer in his eyes. Slightly less nauseating given his cracked glasses, split lip, and the blood caked on his face. “I’ve heard of mages taking a demon’s essence, forcing them to do their bidding. I didn’t realize it worked on devils, too.”

I rolled my eyes. It didn’t. That was a conversation we definitely weren’t having, though.

“From what I’ve heard—”

“Yes, yes, you’re the most informed little nerd mage the world has ever seen. You grasp what a Diabolic binding is. Congratu-fucking-lations. But do you know why they’re so dangerous?”

“Yes, I do. It’s because—”

“So, then you know I’m going to make your life miserable the second it fades, making you regret every second you refuse to return my essence. If you’d like a quick death then you better—”

“You better!” Walter snarled. “Better stop interrupting me.”

“Or what?” I invaded his space, inching closer and closer until he backstepped against the wall. Gods, how I’d love to pin him to it. Break him apart. Maybe bring out more of that snarling rage which crept out of him little by little. I placed my hands on the wall behind him, enclosing him from either side.

“Back up.”

“No.” My chest pressed against his; his heart pounded furiously as he wormed his way around me.

“Back up. That’s a command.”

I backstepped—not from the silly demand, but the burst of laughter that erupted from me. “Oh, you really thought you knew something.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

Stifling a snort, I returned, taunting him. He commanded me a second time. I didn’t budge. A third. I smirked. After a shaky, confused fourth command for me to back away, I batted my lashes and watched the confusion in his eyes swirl round and round. A Diabolic binding required so much more than he realized.

“Mages who take Diabolic essence into themselves risk two possibilities,” I said. “First, too much, and it’ll rip their very being to shreds, killing them. Second, too little, and it’ll fade fast, releasing the demon, or in my case, devil.”

“Well, it’s not too much because I feel fine.” His queasy expression said otherwise.

“Walter, I think we can agree your problem has always been too little.” I remained invasive, much to his dislike. “When my essence fades on its own, which it will, I’ll be released. Do you know what usually happens to mages who force obedience through a Diabolic binding?”

He gulped. “I’ll just have to find a way to seal you away before that happens.”

That wouldn’t be happening. I’d gained a second chance at freedom, and nothing would take it from me again. Thankfully, Walter knew many things, but not the necessary steps to invoke a command.

“New plan.” I grabbed him by the waist and slung him over my shoulder. Ignoring his protests and feeble strikes at my back, I carried him out of the estate.

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