Page 101 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

“Where is Wally?”

“Here,” Wally answered, rushing into the room.

“Yes, I’ll miss you too, asshole,” Corson grumbled, still rambling on about his demon road trip as if I were listening intently to what he had planned.

“Thanks for getting me when he woke up.” Wally glowered.

“I wanted to, but Bez looked worn for wear, and I feared your ceaseless prattle would send him back to Oblivion.” Corson smirked. “Then I’d have to rescue him all over again.”

“That’s not the expression,” Wally said. “And—”

“And enjoy your trip, Corson,” I interrupted. “Goodbye. Now.”

“Thank you,” he replied with a flourished bow. “Maybe in another century or two, your little misfit devil will be willing to share the cutest demon in all the Hells that ever Helled.”

I rolled my eyes.

“First, you ripped out my heart; now, you own it.” Corson winked and then turned his attention back to Wally. “See you around, Walter Devil Boy of Great Mortal Human Things, First of His Hybridization or whatever and all that jizz.”

“Goodbye,” Wally said with pure malice in his heart. It was intoxicating. “Try not to maim and murder.”

“Toodaloo.” Corson waved as he left. “If I do, I’ll think of you.”

With that, Wally telekinetically slammed the door shut.

“He’s frustrating.”

“Pretty sure you said that about me…a lot.”

“Yeah, but…” Wally paused, taking a deep, calming breath. “He’s worse. Much. The last three months were excruciating. I kept waiting for him to leave. Satan and Orias were ready the second the dust settled, but Corson… So obnoxious.”

“Three months, huh?”

“Give or take.” Wally shrugged nonchalantly like he wasn’t mouthing the time I slept down to the very second.

“And you decided to put me in a host?” I stared at my hands, extending my claws momentarily to test their limits. “Guessing from Mora’s collection since the selection is probably limited here in the city.”

“Yeah. She’s already called in her favor for that one, too.”

“At least you got me a cute body.” I gave Wally my best smoldering expression, something to draw him closer, calm his nerves, elicit the right tension. “I’m just surprised you lot put me in a body to begin with.”

“You were in really rough shape, Bez.” Wally got quiet for a moment, biting his lower lip. “We’re not exactly experts on reviving demons. I swear, Corson intentionally led me in circles when searching for Oblivion.”

“Well, it all worked out,” I said, dragging Wally away from whatever somber feelings he almost stirred up. “I’m just surprised you were cool kicking some poor fool out of his own skin for my sake. After all that work you did so I could feel sensations in my own body. But seeing as I didn’t have much of one left, thank you for your valiant efforts.”

“To be clear, I only helped you feel in your own demon skin so you could feel in your own demon skin, you know?” Wally’s expression quirked into this confused, frowny smile. “I just want you to be comfortable with who you are. If you’re comfortable as a sexy brute of a demon with killer abs, flawless gray skin, and a thick build in all the right places. Then that’s great.”

He winked, then giggled, because it was Walter, and despite all he did to be charming and sexy and suave, he was still a little geeky nerd who blushed when sex came up in idol conversation amongst others. Funny, considering how demanding he was behind closed doors and the number of frisky ventures he jumped at exploring.

“But also, if you prefer rocking out in mortal flesh while flaunting your tails, your wings, your horns, and your claws, andthe crimson eyes, and wow, you really do show off a lot of your Diabolic features now that I think about it. Hmm…uh, the point is, I want you to be happy, Bez.”

“Well, I’ll be happy once I break this body in.” I lifted the blanket a bit, eyeing myself beneath the covers to draw Wally’s interest. “The composite is slipping in nicely, so we’ll have to test my stamina soon.”

“Oh?” Wally’s eyes widened. “What’d you have in mind?”

A scratch at the door caught his attention before I could answer. The whiny sniffles that followed made it clear the hound had realized I’d awakened and come to pester me for fiery treats. I bet that was the only reason Weather bothered to come begging. Wally didn’t make fireball snacks nearly as well, always worried he’d burn the Cerberus’ tongues. Like a beast born of fire and meant to serve over the gates of the underworld needed to worry about too much heat.

“Don’t,” I protested as Wally went to open the door. “He can wait five minutes.”

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