Page 60 of The Misfit Mage and His Darling Demon

“What about the artifacts? There are thousands of magical items in the baron’s home.”

“Former home.” Bez folded his arms and had a cocky little expression. “And the trace amounts of Mythic residue in those isn’t much help. Better than nothing, I suppose, but I’d prefer drawing upon an organic source.”

I sat next to Weather, petting Cloudy and rubbing Sunny’s chin, all while avoiding Stormy, who wanted no affection whatsoever. “Do you want to talk about Eligos? I know he—”

“I want to talk about how to quickly kill him.” Bez glared. “Not too quickly. I’d like to break that armor of his, make him cry, then he can die.”

Bez hid it—poorly—but Eligos meant something to him. We both knew that much, yet he pretended all the same, so I let him. If untangling these feelings burdened him, distracted him, it might cost him when confronting the demon knight. I had to do my part to ensure Bez survived this.

“Oh, the armor,” I said, mind replaying the battle between Mora, resisting a shudder as blood and burns surfaced. “Heshielded it, protected it. I think he’s possessing it, if that’s possible.”

“Anything’s possible with Diabolics. Even surviving death and escaping closed portals, it seems.” Bez’s angry eyes didn’t waver. “I do need to figure out how he managed that. He thinks I’m Beelzebub—which I am, in a sense—but that means he hasn’t been in Hell, our Hell, since I fled with the devil’s heart. It’s a good sign, indicating that damn dead Fae hasn’t figured out how to open closed dimensions but doesn’t explain a bit about how Eligos got here.”

Bez needed magic, something to restore his essence, and if the artifacts wouldn’t help, maybe he could use other forms. “Like mana.”

“What?” Bez and Sunny cocked their heads in unison.

“Sorry, thinking aloud. But I think I can help you.” I gestured to myself. “When expelling my mana, you can draw upon the residue it emits.”

“One—and I say this in the sweetest way possible—you have a lackluster amount of mana. Two, the moment you cast, especially for a long period of time, Eligos will immediately detect our location.”

“What about a host body?” I asked. “I could offer—”

“Absolutely not.” Bez slapped a hand on Sunny’s head, then scratched the Cerberus’ forehead, soothing the pup after the brief startle. “Can’t risk it.”

“Yeah, since possession tends to kill the original host.” I sighed, realizing how terrible my plan was.

“Yes and no. Not always, but I have this tendency of”—he ran his little thumb along his thin neck and rolled his tongue out, playing dead—“offing people because I’m bad at sharing my space. Mortal bodies are so cramped, the collision of consciousness tends to lead to me pushing them out.”

“Collision of consciousness?”

“It’s a whole thing, requiring a very delicate touch not to kill a host. Plus, possession without overwhelming a host body with all of my essence involves a lot of finesse. There’s this ratio factor involved: how much flows in the veins, circulating throughout the body, versus how much radiates on the surface level, sort of like a shroud.” He hopped off Sunny’s head and paced the room. “It’s basically impossible and a wasted effort when it’s much simpler to just kick out the former tenant before securing a body.”

Weather followed Bez back and forth.

Admittedly, little Bez was adorable and such a delightful distraction during this horrible event. All his mannerisms remained the same, the swagger in his hips as he strutted, the slight hunch in his shoulders when he flew about, escaping Weather’s shuffle behind him, and the wicked grin on his little minxy face as ideas of revenge crossed his mind. He looked like a perfect doll replica of himself.

“Well, there’s less of you, so you wouldn’t need as much space, so maybe?” I hesitantly suggested.

“No.” He folded his arms. “I love being inside you, it’s my favorite activity, but possession is so invasive.”

“We don’t exactly have a lot of options,” I said, thinking over everything in the villa, where we could go, what lay dormant in all the various pocket portals, but my thoughts kept going back to the helm.

Images of Kell’s burning body. Mora riddled with blades. Bez’s head spinning in the air as his body collapsed. I grimaced.

Mora and Kell were out there somewhere, dying, suffering, and in agony. And me? I sat there, unable to even formulate a simple plan, unable to remotely offer help. At least they both put up a fight against the demon knight. Hell, even Tony and Weather fought back while I froze. I hated how no matter what I did, it was never enough.

Bez flicked my forehead with a solid thunk. “Get out of your own busy brain. I need it.”

“Huh?”

“You’re overthinking. Overthinking Walter is only useful when researching. We’re in survival mode. I need impulsive Wally. Angry Wally.” He growled. “Show me your rage!”

“I-I-I don’t know if I have any rage.”

“You do. It’s spectacular and calculating and able to weave masterful constructs.”

I nodded.Think. Think, dammit.

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