Page 81 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

Bez obeyed. He took heavy breaths, releasing steam with each exhale. His chest swelled in unison with Ian’s as they both caught their breath. Breath Bez didn’t need yet acted on instinct. Maybe I was wrong about Bez being able to break free from commands on a technicality. It didn’t matter. My plan didn’t involve Bez breaking free. It involved me freeing him, which would be a lot easier if he hadn’t posted himself squarely between Ian and me.

“Now, detain Wally.” Ian rubbed his wrist. “Nonviolently. I don’t need to worry about you ripping off one of his limbs and ending up losing one in the process.”

I backed into the shadows before Bez grabbed me. I muttered incantations, but my voice echoed through the void, sending the magic trailing away. Shit. Tracing a symbol on my hand, I fixated on the bright glow of mana and magic lighting the darkness.

This wouldn’t hurt much but might slow Bez if properly coordinated.

“Come and get me,” I shouted as I leapt from a shadow.

By the time Bez had turned, I’d fallen back into the fold and jumped out again behind him. I punched him in the back of the head with my right hand and thought I’d broken another finger. Hitting him was like punching concrete. I continued the surprise barrage attacks a half dozen times.

Seemed more clever in my head. Hit him fast and hard with incantations amplifying the punches and hiding in the void before he could counter, all while waiting for an opening to grab Ian.

All it actually did was annoy Bez and bruise my knuckles and deplete what little mana I had.

“Screw it.” I reappeared across the street on the broken steps of the Regiment Headquarters.

It gave enough distance when luring Bez but only afforded me three breaths before he’d raced to me, claws ready to grab me. Back into the void, I continued luring Bez further and further from Ian. Each time I counted the number of breaths between transporting in the Diabolic void, stepping back onto the street, and how long it took Bez to reach me.

Once I’d drawn Bez as far as I could, I went back into the shadows and let them send me barreling toward Ian.

I zipped in close to Ian, almost grabbing him. Bez’s claws glimmered in my peripheral. Dammit. He was too fast. I pivoted, backing away before he caught me. One of his claws nicked me, slicing my cheek. Nothing too bad. Ian pressed a hand to his own cheek, searching for a scratch that didn’t exist, then turned his gaze to Bez’s unmarred face.

“You dirty little liar.” Ian dug his nails into his cheek until tiny scratches covered Bez’s cheek. “No mercy. Won’t be making that mistake again. Kill Walter Alden.”

I reached into the shadows, retrieving the Demon’s Demise. Ian’s second artifact was going to help me release Bez, which I wanted to do as far from Bez as possible. No choice now. I stabbed Ian in the gut, twisting the blade. Crimson tendrils sprang from his stomach, whipping about the same way they’d done when he stabbed me in the chest. Ian dropped to his knees. But Bez shrugged off the injury, holding his stomach until his wound healed.

I backstepped toward the void. Bez darted forward, and I panicked as he dragged me out before the shadows and webs engulfed me. He threw me to the ground. I landed face-first in something awful; rot and charred flesh. I dug my fingers into dirt and ashes, pushing up. Bez kicked me in the spine, dropping me onto my stomach.

I clamped my jaw, biting back screams as he kicked me again.

“Harder,” Ian panted the command. “Again, dog.”

And Bez obeyed. Kicking me into the broken ground again and again. I couldn’t speak. Breathe. Think. Everything hurt. I choked on gravel, burying my face in the debris.

“I said harder. Break his goddamn spine.”

The kicks stopped. I tried to drag myself away but was so exhausted. Bez gurgled. Something cracked. Sounded like bones. It wasn’t mine. I rolled onto my side, channeling mana for one last push of power. My glasses were cracked beyond repair and covered in soot. I took them off, calling out to the void.

Bez’s blurry body contorted, neck twisting and limbs crackling as he resisted Ian’s words.

“He can’t control you.”

Bez pulled back his arm, balling a shaky fist. He wanted to stop. I knew it. He fought the commands because they weren’t accurate. Psychosomatic remnants to the actual effect of commands. Orders of obedience in Hell. Orders issued by me when we were linked.

“I saw it at the motel.” I wheezed, taking shaky breaths. “You lied. Defied a command because—”

Bez dropped to his knees, grabbing me by the shirt and pulling me close. Our bloody lips were close enough to kiss, but it felt more like he’d rip my throat out with his sharp teeth. I squeezed the Demon’s Demise. A dagger meant for killing Diabolics. It’d end Bez here and now. Probably kill Ian. Save me. Save the city. The Collective.

I dropped the blade.

“Kill him now, Beelzebub!” Ian trembled, voice cracking.

Bez held up his free arm, claws at the ready. Our eyes locked. The veins around his crimson eyes faded. The pinks in his eyes watered. His lip trembled, but he didn’t—couldn’t—speak.

“See. You’re resisting. It’s because these incantations are meant to compel and control the devil Beelzebub.” I spit blood as I spoke, nodding to the bindings covering Bez.

Yes. Ian had Bez’s Diabolic essence. Yes. He’d created a perverse contract to force obedience. But…

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