Page 69 of The Misfit Mage and His Darling Demon

They all remained safely tucked away in her wardrobe, a personal host to fit any occasion when she deemed appropriate. It sounded exhausting and tedious to keep up with their needs.

Once Mora finished her vigil to her lost host body, she strutted over to her luggage and withdrew a wrapped scroll.

“What’s that?”

“It’s where I keep my spares,” she answered, slowly untying the magical strings.

“Guess we’re just alerting Eligos of our location.” I crossed my arms.

“Let him show up. I’m going to eviscerate him.” The lace glimmered around her fingers as she wrapped it like twine. Each thin string radiated with magic, and the single wrapped piece of parchment she unraveled held a potency that screamed Fae magic.

“What’s with the Fae pocket portal?”

“Easier than toting about all those coffins.”

“Yes, but why not use Diabolic essence, carry them in a void world? That’d be simpler.”

“I don’t know, on the off chance my essence is shattered by a surprise assault, and I needed to ensure the magical seal didn’t become undone, exposing their bodies to harm and leaving me more vulnerable.”

“Touché.”

She peeled off a single glyph on the parchment etched alongside hundreds of others. The ink fluttered from her finger, falling like a spiraling feather onto the floor, then expanded into a full-sized white coffin.

“It’s surprising you found a Fae willing to help you.”

“Please.” She unlatched the locks and removed a few warded sigils. “How do you think I caught wind of Novus’ scheming? I have connections everywhere. Though, I should’ve vetted the dead baron’s affiliation with demons more thoroughly. Alas, live and learn.”

Agreed. We would live and learn—right after we slaughtered Eligos and his demons.

Mora sauntered toward me, dug a nail into the back of her neck, and tore into the flesh. “Help a girl out?”

“Can’t you just rip through it yourself?”

“I’d like to offer Catherine a modicum of respect.” She glared.

“Fine.” Channeling essence into my mortal fingertip, I created a sharp claw and dragged it down Mora’s back, carving through the layers of flesh so she could hop out and leave the corpse mostly intact. Guess she really had fought hard for her life against Eligos since Mora rarely intertwined so deeply in a host body, such as seeping her essence into them on a cellular level like myself. By maintaining proper balance between her consciousness and a host body, it allowed her to leave without harming them, but also made for a more difficult possession. Her essence consumed Catherine during a collision of consciousnesses where Mora had to ultimately choose herself.

Instinctively, I faced away from her as she escaped and entered the room in her true form. The coffin creaked open, and the host gasped, their voice hoarse from years of sleep.

“Such a gentleman, Bezzy,” Mora said with a deep baritone that she added a soft lilt to lighten. Her hand grazed my shoulder blades, indicating she’d possessed the new body seamlessly.

There were few things in the world that bothered Mora, but she preferred not to be seen in her demon form, something she lived with too long on Bael’s Court as a reigning king in Hell.

“Whatever.” I flexed, shrugging off her hand. “Who’d you pick?”

I turned, and Mora twirled as she adjusted her blazer, smiling with four large, fanged upper eyeteeth.

“Maurice.” I nodded approvingly. “I always liked him.”

“He’s the only one durable enough to handle a few lucky shots from that annoying demon knight.” Mora fidgeted in the itchy suit.

I smirked.

Maurice had terrible taste in fabrics and a weird mix of fashion sense, from stuffy and traditional to audacious and conventionally difficult to walk in. Guess it made some sense,given he was a vampire of nearly a thousand years who’d never adapted to the changes in the centuries, refusing to blend even though organizations like the Mythic Council demanded it. He’d agreed to Mora’s arrangement with the stipulation that when she wore his flesh, she not put him in what he considered garish attire. He’d tired of life yet feared the unknowingness that came with death. Mora offered him a chance for the solitude of sleep, exploration of the world, and the quiet disconnect that came with observing change without interacting. Not sure why that worked on him—must have been a personality thing—but she always found individuals eager and willing to give themselves to a demon.

“Come along.” Mora snapped her fingers. “We have a demon to slaughter.”

“Demons,” I corrected. “Remember, Eligos is working with others now that he’s cracking open those orbs.”

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