Page 18 of The Misfit Mage and His Darling Demon

“We just talked about not impulsively killing people.”

“Justimplies it only recently happened, and we know your lectures have been long-standing.” Bez rolled his eyes. “And to be clear, it won’t be impulsive. I’m already putting much thought into exactly how to kill him.”

“Could we maybe look for another way?” I bit my lip. “I can get pretty crafty when dealing with dangerous threats.”

“I prefer it when you get murderer-y with those threats.”

I frowned, making a face because his expression shifted to the same minxy smirk as the night I’d ended Ian’s life. Ian. The misfit mage who sought to reveal magic to the world, topple the Collective, and kill Bez and me. Killing him wasn’t something I regretted. It was a decision I made with ease. I suppose the only regret I had there was I didn’t have any regret, which made me an awful person.

“Killing a Fae—that’s big. They have the Collective wrapped around their fingers; they basically run the Mythic Council…”

“Through whispers only.” Bez scoffed.

“Which is a pretty big deal that so many different Mythics heed their mostly silent advice.”

“Blah, blah, blah-bidy, blah. And I suppose you think his nobility makes him a more difficult target.”

“Well, yes.” Standing, I moved closer between Bez’s spread legs. “If the Fae Court is anything like the Collective regiments, then working outside sanctioned authority would likely cost him all his standing. Remember a certain chancellor whose coup cost her all title and casting privileges?”

A not-so-subtle reminder I could handle tough decisions. After all, I’d exposed Chancellor Alden to the regiment leaders, and from the one email I’d received from Al, our mother’s treachery apparently landed her a one-way ticket to the Collective’s most secure penitentiary.

“I just don’t want to do something we can’t walk back from,” I said, fighting back the urge to add I couldn’t kill with such a clear conscience as Bez and how sometimes the way he killed with such a nonchalant attitude frightened me. Worse. Sometimes it excited me, knowing no one and nothing would stand between us because he’d always protect me no matter the danger.

“Fine. I’ll let you concoct whatever it is you wish, but if it doesn’t completely remove him as a threat from you, me, and I suppose others—since a pompous Fae with a skeleton key able to bounce to and from any Hell realm would be a danger to all—then I’ll be left with no choice other than to more permanently remove him as a threat.”

“It doesn’t sound less murderous when you say it that way.”

“It’s not meant to,” he said, his smile gone. Bez kissed my chest directly over my fast-beating heart. “Know that I shall respect your rules. No impulsive decisions. No unaliving without purpose. Cross my heart, not my tails.”

I squinted at his three gray tails, which had stretched long and straightened from one another, all lying at different ends of the bedroom.

I kissed Bez. A light peck, waiting for him to reciprocate. He remained hesitant. Reserved. I kissed him again, a bit more assertively, and straddled his waist as I did.

He pulled away, taking a wispy breath in sync with mine. “I expected you to be less enthused once I explained the situation.”

“You’re treating me like an equal, not just some little mage you have to protect. I find that very enthusing. Enthusiastic? No. Point is this is what I like to see.”

“I’ve always considered you my equal, Wally.” Bez ran his hand up my stomach, resting it on my chest over my heart. “In truth, you are my better through and through.”

Bez smiled so big it reached his glossy, crimson eyes. An expression of pure admiration.

Swept away by passion, I grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles one by one, unable to stop. His fingers had a sweet flavor like he’d dipped them in syrup. Knowing Bez, that was exactly what he’d done. Essence coursed through me, through him, too, extending to his fingers that I continued kissing. They shifted into claws. I licked them, running my tongue down his palm and reaching his wrist, where I planted tender kisses as he caressed my face.

“I’m glad to be treated as an equal. Flattered you sometimes see me as your better.” I slid a hand beneath his horns, grabbing his ruffled hair, and pulled him into an all-consuming kiss, parting only for air and a need, desire, to tell him. “We’ll have to put a pin in that since it’s not true. I’m no better than you, Bez.” I kissed him, unable to break away for too long. “But right now…”

Bez smirked. Dammit. I’d done it again. Talking, talking, talking.

Too late, might as well say it. “You know what I’d like from you?”

“Name it.” He stroked my cheek.

“I don’t want to be an equal right now. But someone solely for serving your needs.”

“My worthless Walter.”

“Not a nickname I’d approve of under any other circumstances.” I grinned nervously, aroused and buzzing in anticipation for his touch. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me, but it feels like it’s been forever since we, you know, and I feel like I’m rambling more, or maybe we just have more going on, or maybe I’ve forgotten how to—”

Bez threw me off him, shoving me face-first onto the bed. I gasped as he stripped off my pants and tore through yet another shirt. At least I learned an incantation to mend the stitching. I shuddered as his lips worked their way down my back and further. His tongue was aggressive and delicate all at once as he slid my underwear off.

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