Page 71 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

“This rage is misdirected. I don’t want Wally to suffer. So what, his family is horrible, the system he floundered in never made room for anyone else, or he’d rather fuck a devil than meet me for drinks?”

That was a simplification. I’d rather do my job right than meet him for drinks. Gods, if I’d left the manor then, how different would things have turned out? Would Bez have been freed? Would he still be locked away in his orb, hidden with a trove of stolen treasures? Would I be fawning over Ian, pathetic and deluded and ignorant of all the things he did beneath the shadows?

I rolled onto my back again, one arm pinned to my chest because of the pain but dropping the other. I surrendered. None of the what-ifs mattered. I’d die here and now, left to wonder until the end of my days if everyone I cared for died as miserably as I had.

“Kill him quickly. You can scatter his remains afterward. I’m all about presentation.”

Bez dropped to his knees. In a swift blur, he jerked my arm off my chest and slammed it to the floor. He growled, backing away and grabbing his own arm.

“What was that?” Ian asked.

I didn’t understand why Bez jumped. Had he tried to fight the order?

Bez ignored him, returning to his command. Tracing his fingers along my stomach, I quivered. Such a gentle touch. One meant to remind me he cared, perhaps.

“Stop.”

Bez paused.

“Answer me.”

“I merely wish to fulfill your command.” Bez pressed a firm hand over my heart. His pulse pounded in sync with my heart. “Can’t wait to see your face when we all perish.”

“Wally still possesses your Diabolic essence?” Ian’s face contorted as he caught his breath. “Answer truthfully.”

No. The answer was simple. We’d ensured it ran its course because I didn’t want to gamble with Bez’s life any more than necessary for my foolish desires.

“Yes. He holds a piece of me in his heart.” Bez clutched the fabric of my shirt.

He lied. He lied despite a command to speak the truth. It was small and insignificant considering all the horrors which awaited him if he failed to obey Ian’s will, yet he resisted it. Enough to spare my life. If Bez could overpower the Diabolic bond even in such a subtle way, maybe there was hope.

“This won’t do,” Ian said, pacing the confined room. “Can’t kill him without risking my own neck. Can’t let him walk free without ruining my plans. Beelzebub, detain him, and let us be on our way.”

My eyes widened. That was it! I knew how he resisted.

Bez wrapped a hand around my throat. Everything blurred. My throat tightened. I tried to speak but choked on the words. I had to explain to Bez how he’d resisted.

Ian commanded Beelzebub.

I could stop this. I just needed to tell Bez…

…

Everything grew dark.

…

Bez needed to know.

…

I had to tell him. Ian created an incantation to control Beelzebub, not…

… Bez.

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