Page 3 of The Misfit Mage and His Darling Demon

“I wouldn’t rehash them if you took them seriously.” Or listened. I knew he was tuning me out this very second.

“That tiny town you picked has much to admire, a lack of mages at the top of the list, but it doesn’t have what I wish to offer. Something that’ll whet your appetite.” Bez looped his arm through mine, escorting us past the restaurant.

“Wait, where are we going? Don’t you have reservations?”

“No. Why would you think that? I didn’t bring you here to eat.” Bez chuckled. “Doubt any dining experience could match my expertise in the kitchen.”

I scrunched my face, hoping he didn’t plan on cooking for me. Bez had many talents, but his taste in food wasn’t one of them. My stomach churned, half anxious about where he was leading us, half remembering his kitchen concoctions, the most recent being a cookie dessert pizza topped with pickled peppers, sauteed mushrooms, and spicy cool whip.

“The last six months have been less than amazing. There have been fun times, it’s been calm, but not nearly as many sights and adventures or travels as we intended upon when we took our leave from Seattle.”

True. Bez wanted to show me the world, yet the Collective wanted to show us their reach and prove that no matter where we went,justicewould find us.

“You deserve all the joy there is in unraveling the mysteries of the world. Instead, you’ve been working nonstop handling artifacts procured outside of mage hands. You’ve done wondrous work, helping decipher lost or arcane facts, rarities some never fathomed, cultivating loyal clients, yet that’s all you’ve had time for—work.”

Bez batted his long lashes, and I found myself lost in them and the softness of his voice. No sarcastic lull, only kind praise.

“I like working. I like routine,” I said.

“Perhaps, but you put yourself through longer hours of laborious research now than when working in that awful repository. And as far as routine, we haven’t even had that. These freelance gigs send me all over retrieving baubles; you spend as much time searching for a new place for us to maintain a low profile as you do meeting the absurd demands of clientele.”

The demands weren’t absurd. Some simply expected perfection, and considering what they paid and the relics they acquired, it wasn’t a big ask. Plus, they were still less demanding than most of the archivist practitioners I’d worked for at the Magus Estate.

“In fact, you’ve been buried in that Fae artifact for weeks, when you should be experiencing it,” Bez said.

“It’s more of a Fae relic stolen by witches and modified into a tool that’s now an ancient artifact I haven’t quite figured out yet. The only thing I do know is, like most Fae items, it lacks even an ounce of their magic within.”

“My point is, I promised adventures unlike any other. Promised to show you this whole world and hidden majesties you’ve never seen.”

Golden lights spelling Chicago on an orange sign filled the entire street with luminous light. The Chicago Theatre. Its letters twinkled above the billboard displaying a performance by Regular Rhapsody.

“What are you planning?” I asked, curious and perplexed.

“A performance unlike any other.” Bez withdrew a pair of tickets from his blazer and ushered us inside. “Prepare to witness a show you’ll never forget. One of the greatest mysteries the Mythic world has to offer.”

“At a Regular Rhapsody concert? I’m honored, I guess.” I half smiled, biting back a giggle. “Not the celebration I anticipated but certainly a surprise all the same.”

“You’re mocking Regular Rhapsody?” Bez tsked. “Their velvety melody is obviously above the caliber of your simple mortal ears.”

Oops. I’d best keep my mouth shut.

Music. One of the few mortal things Bez adored beyond reproach. The range of voices, the unique melodies of every instrument, and the combinations they all created. He enjoyed all music from classical and pop to rock, country, rap, all the way to the oldies—it didn’t matter. But he had a major soft spot for Regular Rhapsody, a band that mixed orchestra with techno and had lyrics somewhere between screamo metal and bubbly pop. It seemed Bez’s ears had the same eclectic tastes for music as his tongue did for food. He’d discovered this band two months ago and played their music on a loop, insisting I’d learn to love their bizarre combination. I hadn’t.

I frowned. I bet that was why he encouraged my choice in moving to Galena. There were certainly other places. How long had he been planning this special date night? One that also served his interests.

“They’re merely the opening act.”

“Huh?”

Bez ignored my question, escorting us through the lobby. Before I could attempt asking for clarification, he swatted at people in our path with his tails and left me busy glamouring away the incident. No posted signs indicated another performer tonight, and I didn’t see any hidden glyphs revealing the band had connections to magic; there were plenty of mages and Mythics who used their abilities to acquire celebrity status.

Inside the theater, a sea of red filled the huge auditorium where thousands took their seats, and Bez led us to our row close to the stage and centered in the crowd. I focused on my glamour, ensuring none of his features were glimpsed, then felt the lightest tug of his essence.

He’d buried my mana beneath his Diabolic haze, obscuring himself so I wouldn’t have to cast during this concert. Kind of sweet. Not sure how much I wanted to see Regular Rhapsody, but I found myself curious about how this tied to a Mythic performance unlike any other.

I tried listening to the introduction as the curtain rose, the kind words to the packed audience, and even the lyrics of the opening song. However, I found myself lost in Bez’s smile as he hummed along. He’d planned this evening to celebrate us, our relationship, and offer me a special night to remember, but I’d probably only carry the happiness this date brought him.

“Pay attention, Wally.” Bez nodded to the stage as a pink mist seeped around the band.

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