Page 63 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

“Says the witch who’s only considering his vision for the now.” Mora shook her head and tsked. “I always think centuries ahead. Eradicating your coven wasn’t on the agenda, but alas…it looks like the witches are going to dwindle just a sliver more.”

“Sounds like my cue.” Kell swirled her arms at her sides, summoning a lavender mist that began to eat away at the sigils warding the room.

“Pretty sure it’s mine, too.” Desmond snapped his fingers and muttered some spell of sorcery, which conjured a bright light between his hands.

Every witch in the room held their hands around a white light that formed into a ball and took on a glass shape.

My body tensed.

My eyes widened.

Every fiber of my essence recoiled at the sight of each witch in this coven holding a Diabolic orb.

“How?” The word escaped my chattering teeth.

“Like I said, you’ve walked right into my trap.” Desmond extended his arms, holding the orb in one hand.

An orb that was nearly three times the size of the others displayed by the coven. Their orbs were closer in size to the one that had held me for nearly fifty years. Fifty years. Years I lost in isolation. Torment. Horror I would’ve faced until the end of time had happenstance and timely accidents not interfered.

“These will contain any Diabolic,” Desmond said. “Demons, devils, even defective misfit mages merged with essence.”

“Bez.” Wally’s tail reached out, gently coiling around my wrist as if to pull me from my thoughts and back to the situation at hand. A situation which would be our end.

“We have enough of these orbs to contain an army of demons,” Desmond said.

“How did you acquire these?” Mora asked, no fear in her voice, but she’d never spent time inside a Diabolic orb.

“I created them after years of study,” Desmond explained as a ward fizzled out and the glamour that cloaked the wall behind him faded away, revealing a trove of orbs in all sizes. “Did you really think Magus Remington was the only person Baron Novus shared his contraptions with?”

That annoying Fae noble and his damned demon knight were still proving to be thorns in my side even after dying. They created these horrible tools. And it turned out they handed them over to more than just Abe. Abraham. Magus Remington. The bastard who tricked me into fighting his battles, then locked me away inside an orb and used that betrayal to rise to infamy among The Collective forces.

“But what would an army of demons get me? A bloody war against The Collective? No, thank you.” Desmond summoned a fire into his free hand. “I want an insurmountable victory. One that’ll have every mage on their knees where they belong.”

“You can’t control demons with the orbs,” Wally clarified. “Only trap them.”

The way he said the words, there was no fear in his voice, no realization that trapping us was enough. I wouldn’t suffer it. I wouldn’t allow myself to be contained by these orbs or any other. Never again.

“Unlike Remington, I was aware of the Fae’s manipulation, so I studied the orb given and created modifications. Ones which will allow me to release just a fraction of essence to perform abinding ritual. And that will put you demons under my thrall. Our thrall.”

Every witch in the coven raised their orbs, each preparing to attempt trapping Wally, Mora, and myself.

“And just so you know, I won’t settle for some trivial demon dressed as a devil.” There was an arrogance in the way Desmond presented the orb, the flame, the way he held them in either hand. “No, no, no. Once you’re bound, I’ll summon Lilith herself and shackle a true devil.”

“Kell,” Mora called out.

“Busy.” Kell’s lavender mist had nearly melted away all the sigils when a deep blue smoke slithered into the room like a serpent and wrapped around Kell’s sorcery.

“You should be honored, Morax,” Desmond said, a bitterness as he said Mora’s demon name. “You get to help me carve out a new world order, one where the witches take our rightful place at the top.”

“What’s everyone’s obsession with topping? It’s so basic.” Mora huffed. “And world domination? So pedestrian, Desmond.”

“Enough,” he yelled.

“I always knew you were adventitious, but I didn’t realize your goals were so lofty.” Mora sent a trickle of black lightning to her feet and through the floor, which she’d use to diffuse the threat.

But I couldn’t chance it. These witches might’ve had more wards in place. More defenses at the ready to deflect such a simple strike. Mora’s need to minimize the bloodshed would be our ends.

“No,” I roared.

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