Page 90 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

“All that matters is you pawn it off to Mythics, not mages,” I said since that remained one of Wally’s only stipulations.

“Fine. But your mage owes me.”

“He owes you nothing.” I zipped before her, flexing my muscles and glaring. “Consider yourself grateful I don’t kill you for interfering just enough to steal Agatha’s Kidney.”

“It’s a heart, Bezzy.” She patted my chest, unthreatened.

“I hate you so much.”

“Aw. I’ll miss you, too.”

“You survived fifty years without me,” I scoffed. “You’ll be fine when I’m gone.”

She hooked her fingers into the loops of my pants, pulling my hips against hers. “So, you’re really leaving the city for good?”

“I despise this place. Too big. Too rainy. Too loud. Plus, Wall…” I bit my tongue. “Ter is over it, so au revoir or some shit.”

Mora ruffled my bangs, parting them. They’d become impossible since my horns burst through this balloon of a host. “Tu vas me manquer, mon diable préféré.”

“I’m the only devil you like.”

“Still my favorite.” Mora released me, kissing each of my cheeks before sauntering into the kitchen. “Hope you return for my hundredth with Kell. I know, I should be planning my fifty-third, but that’s done. I just love the celebrations of love. I’m already planning a smashing event for this year. Literally. I’m going to smash something into pieces. Currently undecided. Maybe that loud bitch in 3C. Seriously, I will break every one of his fingers if he strums ‘Wake Me Up When September Ends’ on his guitar one more time.”

“Fine. I’ll attend your trivial anniversaries so long as you attend mine.” I swallowed hard like it’d bury the words I’d blurted.

“Oh? Planning ahead?” Mora grinned, retrieving two glasses and a cocktail shaker. “Bezzy, you’re so adorable.”

“Whatever. It’s unlikely to last. One of us will kill the other in a year or so.” I forced myself to downplay it. It wasn’t like I’d intended to tell her; it just sort of happened. Mora managed to drag out all my confessionals and then use them against me in the future.

As much as I doubted Wally would stay with me, I hoped for the best. A chance to prove I could… I didn’t know. Be something with him. Not better. Not sure he wanted that. Be me, maybe? Myself. All of me and every piece I’d buried or lost or forgotten or burned away to dust. Be the parts of myself I never had a chance to explore. I didn’t want to change, which I believed he was fine with.

Truthfully, I’d stay at Wally’s side for as long as he’d have me. I wanted to see everything through his eyes.

Standing here, thinking about everything I wanted. Everything I could have. Everything possible moving forward. It made my skin itch in the worst way. Mora’s horrible hovel became even stuffier. Impossible to breathe or think or feel. Gods, I needed air.

“Don’t just storm out,” Mora shouted as I slammed the door. “I was making us drinks.”

I darted out of her apartment complex and flew high in the sky, back to the motel where Wally waited.

Only he didn’t wait.

He still hadn’t arrived. His presence lightly yanked from far off. Likely still tying up loose ends with his mother in a complicated and polite mortal manner.

I took the time to clean this ratty room. The fragrance spray Wally had bought did little more than ooze a sludgy, overly sweet smell above the stale mold. I exited, breathing in the fresh air and squinting at the bright sunlight. I could’ve grabbed my sunglasses, but I grew bored with blending in. I went to the check-in office in search of real cleaning supplies.

The bell chimed as I entered.

“Whoa.” The man at the front desk stared wide-eyed. “What’s with the ComiCon get up?”

I didn’t understand this slur, but my horns and wings were not comical.

“Silence, mortal.” I locked him in a tiny nightmare and went in search of supplies.

Since my battle with the mages, I’d shredded most of this host body. I couldn’t retract my wings or horns or claws. Wally urged me to use a Diabolic haze to maintain a low profile until we left, but that was tedious, and I had no intention of lingering long in this city. He claimed we’d leave soon enough, anyway. I’d dwelled here enough. It was time to put Seattle behind me. Behind us, hopefully.

Using my tails, I raided the cabinets, only finding canned foods, musty towels, and other useless things. Walking down the halls, I eventually found an abandoned cart with half-empty spray bottles. They were a grimy brown, holding strong cleaning scents mixed with each other. I hated this cheap place. I needed more currency moving forward. I’d assumed the mortal obsession with it was a passing fad, yet it remained strong, stronger in fact, than when I’d arrived in this realm. If Wally and I were truly setting off, we’d need nice things.

And since he complained when I stole things, I’d need to steal currency instead so I could properly buy things. It seemed very mortal.

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