Page 43 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

They managed to unlock her door—which I’d need to make a note to ask Tony if he jotted down whatever spell they used—and then they stepped inside. Not that I’d break and enter into Kell’s private space, but she used top-tier traps to seal off and ward her belongings, which these witches managed to decipher almost instantly. I could use a spell like that when studying deadly artifacts.

One hooded witch approached a fireball sitting atop Kell’s empty desk. The fire was kept in place through intricate sigils sort of locking it. This was the flame she’d copied from my invitation to Hell. Why was a coven of witches trying to steal Kell’s copy of this key? And how did they know it existed?

My heart raced. Bez tilted his head, clearly listening in on the rapid flutter of my heartbeat that pounded against my chest with every word I held back. With every question I had about these witches.

“There are witches breaking into the shop,” I said to Bez with a steady voice and deep breath.

“Mora is such a moron.” He groaned. “This is what peace gets ya.”

“So, she’s aware of witches after Kell’s fire?” I asked without explicitly stating Kell and Bez had the not-so-bright idea of trying to circumvent Lilith’s abilities. “You know, the special fires Kell makes?”

A harrowing scream flooded my ears, and I leapt to my feet, spinning around the room. One demon lord locked his eyes with me, and I swore he could taste the fear pounding in my chest.

In an instant, Bez lunged and smashed the demon into muck, which he sprinkled onto plates of other dishes demons devoured. Everyone ignored the assault, didn’t mind my outburst, and obviously never heard the scream since the sound came from my connection with Tony, and the scream came from a person he heard.

Thankfully, Bez didn’t have to explain my bizarre actions because no one questioned them. Part of me was grateful for the horrifying fear the presence of a devil created, and another part found it disgusting.

“Well, this is fucking great,” Kell said, pulling my attention to the second sight I glimpsed from Tony.

The scene had changed again—because, of course, it had—and Kell stood over three charred corpses, kicking one with the heel of her boot. The burned cloaks made it evident this was from the witches who’d broken in, and based on the fully intact fireball, I’d wager Kell kept even more intricate traps protecting her most recent experiment.

Kell glared at the bodies, held her flame in one hand, and turned her gaze to Tony. “Wanna help me find the rest of this shifty coven that has the audacity to try and steal from the baddest witch in town?”

12

Bez

Once this new devil ability faded, Wally recentered his attention on me and the dinner while filling me in on what’d happened to Kell. Nearly happened in this case. Wally still actively avoided the meal of essence they’d offered. Not that I blamed him. Their flavors were atrocious. The meat lacked in true savoriness. The meat had these phony grill marks while tasting like a steak Wally had murdered in a stove to the setting of overdone. Their fruits were so artificially sweet they may as well have tossed together a poorly crafted bowl of candy. If I weren’t doing my part to blend with the honor of this feast, I’d have rejected this course much like Wally. Though, ultimately, he likely dodged nibbling because of morals or some shit, as if devouring essence meant anything.

“You murder cows every single day, Walter.”

“What?” He raised a brow in confusion, and rightfully so. It appeared my Walter-isms were slipping in this stressfulsituation, and I ranted at him based on my own internalized aggravations.

“Nothing.” I huffed. “So, what is your little bug up to?”

“Last I saw before the connection faded was Tony and Kell putting together a scrying board,” Wally said, scrunching his face in a dramatic effort to reestablish this bizarre power.

No wonder I couldn’t help Wally master his new devil abilities. He had access to skills only true devils were capable of. Yes, when the essence circulated throughout my Diabolic being, it elevated my access to essence and enhanced my demon abilities, but I never harnessed anything within the scope of a devil’s actual power.

“The city is only so big,” I said. “Surely, Kell and your beast bug will locate these treacherous witches.”

“Yeah,” he said, releasing the tension in his face. “And according to the detection system, no one has left.”

“Not that the faulty system you lot created worked all that well.” Corson strutted toward us, hands gesturing to his physique. “Check and mate.”

“I think you mean case and point.” Wally eyed the demon up and down. “But your snide arrogance is sort of deflated when you’re covered in rubble.”

“And spent part of the evening possessed by your mommy,” I added. “Or quivering on your knees after running your mouth.”

“What man wouldn’t fall to his knees and quake when in the presence of the Great Lord Devil Walter Alden of the Misfit Mortal Mage Hybridization?”

I tsked at his condescending flattery. “Shame you clawed your way outta that hole so quickly; I quite enjoyed your absence.”

“No worries.” Corson winked at Wally. “I’m always looking for a new hole to bury myself in.”

My tails went to snatch him by the throat and hurl him back through another wall when Wally’s tail intercepted, wrapping two of my tails together and teasing the third. Though his was slimmer and shorter than my three, it moved with swift finesse. Something about Hell unlocked the block Wally had faced during our trainings. Perhaps the atmosphere of a Diabolic dimension or the fact my little mage always did his best when thrown into harrowing situations. The more dire, the less he overthought. Honestly, if I could keep him busy with a thousand tasks at once each day, Wally would become an unstoppable force.

Wally’s tail went limp—shocker—and I redirected my tails to steady his stance so no demons would notice floundering. Alas, Wally’s favorite skillset came from stressing over literally nothing.

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