Page 29 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

“Untrue.”

“Well, never in recorded history,” I clarified, which seemed pointless if he just made things up. If a Diabolic had actually done anything other than slaughter innocents, there would definitely be an accounting of it. “If you help solve this, expose the real agenda and people behind it, everyone will remember the devil who prevented a war…”

Bez’s expression turned quizzical, lips pouted and eyes rolling toward the ceiling in contemplation but definitely not listening to anything still coming out of my mouth. Honestly, I wasn’t entirely certain what I was saying anymore, lost in his irksome expressions. “And you want to make a deal with a devil?”

“Not particularly since you’ll probably kill me once the bond is lifted anyway.” But one problem at a time. I could find a way to seal Bez before that happened. In the meantime, he was my best bet at solving this conspiracy and clearing my name.

“Nonsense. A devil never breaks a deal.” He extended his hand. “Consider me in.”

“Wait. Just like that?”

“Sure.”

“Why?” I inched closer like it’d somehow give me a better understanding of his minxy smirk.

“Perhaps an instinctual compulsion or boredom coupled with curiosity.”

“Instinctual what?” Was that connected to the vocal commands? I mused it over. Not that he’d tell me.

“A few ground rules first.” Bez wiggled his already extended hand, and I reached out to shake it.

“Fine.” I tensed my hand, ignoring the tight squeeze of his grip. “No killing people.”

“Okay. No more commands.”

I nodded. Not that I knew how to properly invoke them anyway.

Bez released my hand. “So, what’s your big plan?”

“I figure there has to be intel in your host’s memories.”

“Not the person pulling the strings. Maybe some other low-level players, but I’d have to search through them. Honestly, I chucked most of the garbage memories.”

“You can do that?” Each facet revealed another layer of curiosity.

“To make room for mine, yes, I can.”

“We’ll follow one lead at a time,” I said, repressing the urge to study Bez and Diabolics further. “Once you’ve sorted those memories and found intel on those low-level associates, we can follow up on them. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Walter, you’ve never once in your life been lucky.” He crossed his arms, glaring. After a small pause, his lips curled into a wicked smirk. “Fine. Watching you royally screw this up will be deliciously entertaining. I’ll start looking inward through boring memories.”

“Good.” I plopped back onto the couch, watching Bez close his eyes, press his palms together, and pretend to meditate. He was definitely faking because he moaned instead of the softomhumming for contemplation.

My pocket buzzed. Oh, no. My phone was vibrating. I checked it. “Unknown caller.” I bit my lip. Could they be tracking me? Us? “No. Not a chance. They wouldn’t call if they were.”

“Walter, your voice is disrupting my meditation.”

“Sorry. I’m getting a phone call.”

“Ignore it. I’ve observed you actively avoid answering it for three years. Mostly with anxious dread as it glows and vibrates.”

Not true. Okay, a little true. Still, this could be important…or a trap. Screw it. How much worse could my life get?

I clicked accept. “Hello?”

Bez shook his head disapprovingly. “Don’t answer the telephone.”

“Wally, are you safe?”

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