Page 44 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

One after another, the vanguard mages hollered in horror. I chuckled. They gripped their heads, pulling at their hair in some tragic attempt to rattle the images away. No such luck. Mortal insecurity was the easiest thing to prey upon. The first, a stout man with such succinct control over his incantations, wobbled on his broom. He collapsed to the rooftop, writhing in agony. Two and three shortly followed. Their elemental compatibility showed promise, but I wouldn’t consider them elite in anything. Four ground her teeth so hard I thought she might crush them to dust in some sad attempt to break free. Alas, she passed out before I could find out. Five held out, screeching like a child. His voice had an annoying squawk to it. I was grateful when he fell face-first into the gravel.

“Not very sporting.” I brushed my hands.

“Die, you Diabolic trash!” The sixth, Vanguard Corvine, flew directly toward me, flaming sword in hand.

I craned my neck. The nightmares circulated as they had with the others. A web of hellish history infested his mind, yet he grinned. An angry scowl of a smile, which considering the nightmares of his past, it made sense. This was a mage who’d acquired a lot of power and indulged in exerting his cruelty on those beneath his station. This was a man who swam in nightmares to satiate his passions. The things he’d done to acquire power would make the most vicious Diabolic blush. Diabolic dreams wouldn’t affect him. Not this quickly. And I didn’t have the time or interest in finding what made this sadist tick.

I lunged forward, intercepting this vanguard mage and snatching him by the throat. He squirmed and struggled. His magic floundered as my grip tightened. My blood pumped, thrilled by his anguished expression. A look he himself had seen all too many times based on the brief history of favorite memories he savored, which deceived me into believing they were his nightmares. My heartbeat quickened. I cracked my neck. Walter.

“Relax,” I said, quelling his anxiety which funneled through me, ruining this moment.

“B-Bez, we got the grimoire. Let’s go.”

“Sure thing.” I hurled Vanguard Corvine across the rooftop and over the edge.

“What the fuck,” Walter shouted.

“Oops.” I snorted. “Gotta make it sporting.”

I picked up the fallen broom and chucked it over the edge too.

“You did that on purpose.” Walter ran at me, shoving me with his feeble little push.

I cackled at how he knocked himself backward trying to bulldoze me. Weak and wiry. Practically adorable.

“You did that to spite me,” he snapped.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Worthless Walter.”

“Stop calling me that.” He shoved me again, grimacing at the ache it gave his wrists.

My stance was solid, my flesh denser than steel when desired. He’d only hurt himself, but not too much.

“It’s because I broke the rules on accident, so you…you killed him!”

“I threw him off the roof because he’s a prick, not because of your violation.” I blocked Walter’s next awful attempt to strike me with a soft backhand.

He winced, gripping his bruised knuckles. “Killing someone is way worse than invoking a command.”

“I beg to differ.” I waltzed toward the edge of the rooftop since Vanguard Douchebag’s shouts had grown fainter. “I just threw him. Plus, I gave him his little broom. No rules broken.”

“I saidnotto kill anybody.”

“I didn’t kill him.”

“A fall like that kills people.”

“No. It’s the landing that’ll kill him.”

Corvine splattered onto the ground in a delectable bloody smear. I missed the explosive sound, which barely reached us. My teeth chattered at the thrill. I enhanced my senses so I could savor the visual of his broken bones and frantic face, along with the scent of death.

“Yep.” I laughed. “Definitely didn’t stick the landing.”

Walter’s body shook with such unfathomable fury. He swung a fist. Knuckles cracked against my jaw, and I grinned. He hit me so hard, the bones in my fingers throbbed.

I playfully offered him a second shot, knowing he’d realize his error, but instead, he screamed a full-blown feral shout and ran at me.

In a swift blur, I dodged his tackle. He hit the gravel, groaning.

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