Page 28 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

The door to the structure Orias just created opened wide. and several humans stepped through. Not humans. Each hadvibrant-colored irises, with the whites faded a similar shade. Bez had explained how demons had their own auras of magic since they weren’t pure Diabolic like devils who radiated black essence. Hence why my eyes sometimes turned pure black without a hint of crimson like Bez or emerald like Mora.

Each person wore the bare minimum in attire, completely topless, no matter the sex or gender of the human they possessed. They all had on skimpy underwear, which, since they’d gone with an ancient Rome theme, had an authentic subligaculum cut. Almost skirt-like. Hmmm. Now, I began to wonder if the stretched fabric of Orias’ tunic was actually a pair of skimpy subligaculum undies.

“We’d like to treat you and your…army of allies, should you bring anymore forth, to leisure experience accustomed to those under your reign.” Orias’ tentacles flailed a bit as his iris zipped back and forth with awkward pauses. The discomfort in his tone made me tense.

“He’s wondering where your army is,” Bez whispered.

“I know that,” I said, feeling the second-hand embarrassment Orias had for asking the question. It reminded me of every time I had to do a chancellor’s job when I worked in the archives and fill out requisition forms for the Mythics who’d inquired about artifacts the Collective had stolen centuries back. Ugh. The flashbacks to my complacency were mortifying.

“He’s being polite,” Bez said in a louder hush. “But he wants to know where they are, should you choose to invade.”

“What? No!” I gestured a definite no with my arms. “We don’t need an army to invade. No army required at all! I am not bringing an army to invade.”

Orias’ iris bounced back and forth so quickly I couldn’t follow the movement. The words bellowing from his giant eyeball changed, no longer carrying a sound I could comprehend. Faint elements of it felt familiar, but as the essence in my stomachtightened, I figured he’d shifted to some type of Diabolic language. Which made me wonder how Orias had learned English. Gods, I wanted to ask. But the fact that he scrambled and shouted and flailed his tentacles at the human-possessed demons told me I would regret further inquiries.

I leaned closer to Bez. “Why’s he freaking out?”

“You just said you didn’t need an army to invade.” Bez chuckled. “He’sfreakingthat he just started a war with you.”

“What?” I stepped forward. “I need to fix this.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Bez snatched me by the arm. “Let the minions fret. It creates mystique. Lilith won’t hear. No one would inform her since all know the messenger always pays the price, and none here seek Oblivion.”

“I do hope we can provide you a truly divine experience.” Orias’ eyeball gurgled, and the iris moved with a steady beat. “Perhaps we can provide you with proper accommodations for the spa treatment.”

Several of the topless attendants weaved their hands around, stringing together their essence in the air and materializing various garbs. The clothing fit with the ancient Roman theme, from tunics and togas to various levels of armored materials. They had replicas of basic infantry to what a general would don. It was clear they didn’t understand what a mortal would wear to a spa treatment.

“You should embrace the full experience.” Orias waved a tentacle to the outfits on display.

I ran my hands over the soft wools and lovely silks.

Orias wriggled. “Would you like to undress? Surely, you must feel quite limited in this design.”

Bez snarled and adjusted his tie. Getting him out of a suit and tie was a challenge most days. Usually, the only way was when we trained or screwed, which, more often than not, had a tendency of overlapping.

“I can assist.” Orias scooted close behind Bez. “Help you undress for the full experience?”

“Oh, absolutely.” I laughed a little, eyeing the demons dressed as oiled-up Roman attendants meant to see to our every need, and a part of me really wanted to see Bez rocking the subligaculum undies. “He’d love to strip out of that suit and into something befitting the theme.”

“Certainly, Great Lord Devil Walter Alden of the Misfit Mortal Mage Hybridization.”

Fuck me, that was a mouthful. Oh, man. Now I had to make that joke to Bez. Make him call me by that mouthful of a name.

Bez, whose eyes had gone wide with shock. He stared, perplexed for a second, and then furrowed his brow. “Walter, take it back before—”

The spikes of the tentacled suckers stabbed Bez from every direction and dug in deep before ripping him apart.

I screamed.

What had I done? What had I allowed?

8

Bez

“Son of a motherfucking bitch!” I roared as the spiked tentacles pierced my flesh and hooked in deep.

Before I could utter in protest, one tentacle wriggled down my back, slicing through the skin all the way to the core of my being and using the suckers to pull me out of my own skin.

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