Page 41 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

“Come.” Lilith extended a hand, gesturing for me to grab it. “Let us begin the first course while you explore Hell and your new takeover ability.”

“Oh, so still having the banquet.” I nodded nervously and fixated on the delicate blue hand instead of the tiny black scorpion scuttling about the room. Not this room. A room a whole dimension away.

“Surely, you can handle both tasks, correct?” The black gleam in Corson’s eyes revealed how closely Lilith observed me, studying for any hint of a weakness in this new devil hybrid.

“Absolutely.” I feigned a smile.

Bez sat on the floor beside me while I lay on a couch closer to the size of a stretched chair, doing my best to appear pleasantly at ease while navigating dual vision. Far away, I remained close to Tony, a ghost floating beside him while he worked. It was difficult to know if my connection waned at times or if the distance created a fluctuation in time, but Tony’s position constantly changed in a blink. One second, he sat in the store; the next, he walked Weather; in the instant afterward, he basked under the hot sun, and then a single breath later, he stared at the starlit sky with longing.

Tony missed me as much as I missed him. More so, since it seemed days had passed for him, whereas only a few hours had gone by for me. Truthfully, I couldn’t be certain if time had moved a sliver, as Hell didn’t obey the laws of physics or really any laws unless Lilith deemed them appropriate to the current theme.

But I couldn’t fixate too much on Tony and this second sight because I had to contend with where I currently found myself. I suffered silently in a dining hall surrounded by hundreds of demons who sat lined up at long wooden tables carved out of essence and made to appear properly themed for the Devil’s Banquet and its Ancient Roman décor. The couch kept me positioned in the center of the room with a table between Lilith and myself.

A triclinium was a traditional Roman seating to indicate wealth and status, though they were never placed in the center of a feast. This was Lilith’s way for the devils to exude power, attention, or whatever. Triclinium also had three small couches, which Bez knew not to fall for. We kept the third seat empty as only two devils attended this banquet.

“You must tell me how you acquired the essence,” Lilith said, her head tilted ever so, turning the gaze of her haunting blackeyes down at Bez. “I’d heard whispers of the coup for centuries but never expected Beelzebub would allow for such a rise.”

“Beelzebub always liked a challenge.”

“Still does.” Lilith locked her eyes on Bez, veins fluctuating to heighten her senses. “If the rumors hold true.”

She studied Bez’s reaction down to a cellular level, but he gave her nothing.

His time in Hell still haunted Bez most days, even though he didn’t mention it. Occasionally, our minds would meld when we slept, and I’d fall into one of his memories. This was a side effect of my saturation ability, a mage skill that hadn’t been altered despite possessing essence of my own. It was how I’d first learned Bez paraded himself as a devil to the mortal world when he was actually a demon. It was how I’d learned a handful of the horrors he’d endured for eons.

Bez kept silent for a long pause, then grabbed a piece of wriggling meat with his tail from the table and chomped down. Delight filled his face when he chewed, and I shuddered immediately at the tiny, dying sound of whatever he shoved into his mouth. It was a whisper of a wail, one replicated from everything in the dining hall, from every bite of food the demon lords shoveled down their gullets. Or gullet equivalent in some cases.

I’d already hesitated about indulging in the meat, considering Hell didn’t exactly have livestock, but I’d contemplated picking at the grapes in a bowl. However, seeing how clearly every piece of food, down to the fruit on display, was actually essence made to be festive, I lost my appetite entirely.

Either Bez and every demon in attendance were unphased by the dying gurgles of essence, or the noise was so soft, only a devil could hear the haunting howls.

“Interesting how a devil can lose a piece of themselves, and BAM!” Bez smacked the table before snatching another piece of meat. “The doors to the Hell are slammed shut forever.”

“It is fascinating how such a tiny piece of power can be so potent.” Lilith’s gaze shifted to me. Was she doubting my strength? Did she suspect I didn’t know how to use my abilities? Did she assume it didn’t matter since I had such a meager amount of essence compared to hers? “Still, Beelzebub wouldn’t be trapped if he knew how to make friends.”

“Devils make friends?” I asked, ignoring Bez, who sucked his teeth. Did he want me to lean into the comment or to steer away from the bravado?

“We make the best of friends,” Lilith hissed, soft and slow, so the sound of her voice alone slithered above Corson’s and silenced his deep baritone. “That is why I’ve invited you, Walter. Being allies will strengthen our causes. It’s imperative devils remain united and independent.”

“Agreed.” I extended my hand to shake. “It’s a custom for unity, agreement, deals.”

“I know what it is.” Lilith chuckled; the haunting horror of her devilish tones rattled behind the girlish giggle she shared with the room. “May our friendship bring us closer together.”

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Even if we spend most of our time worlds apart.”

“Even the briefest embrace can last an eternity.” Lilith smiled, so genuine and gentle it would most certainly have deceived me in another lifetime. “I must take my leave for now, but I will find you for another course of the banquet. I plan to make the most of our time, Walter Alden.”

And like that, the blackness of Corson’s eyes vanished as his shimmering sapphire irises took sight of me. The sweet smile crumbled away, and confusion filled Corson’s face.

“How I hate when she does that.” The perplexed expression turned into a twisted smirk. “Then again, look at this fortune.”

He took in the sight of the feast, the seating arrangement with us center stage for the demon lords and Bez on the floor.

“Well, well, well.” He kissed the back of my hand. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Corson’s tongue rolled out, and he licked my skin.

“And we’re done.” Bez’s tail wrapped around Corson’s throat, and he hurled the demon to the other side of the room. Others applauded the crash, and some mended the broken wall, with Corson still inside it, using a quick spell of channeled essence.

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