Page 74 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

I quirked a brow. “Who?”

“Asshat Remington,” Bez breathed the name with contempt. “Not sure he’d know how to fix an orb, but he didn’t just keep me on the mantle as a trophy. On occasion, when alone, he’d tinker with the device. I assumed he was ensuring I couldn’t escape the artifact, but knowing Abe, he was probably trying to figure out the Fae magics involved.”

I didn’t know what to say, how to express my apologies for his experience, my thanks for sharing this for the sake of my outlandish idea. Magus Remington trapped Bez and held himlocked away inside a Diabolic orb for nearly fifty years. He was responsible for so much pain and isolation in Bez’s life; he fueled Bez’s mistrust of mortals and the mortal world.

But as much as I despised Remington’s betrayal, his actions, that damned orb that held Bez for so long, I couldn’t help but be grateful for it all. That horror put our paths together. The coup that nearly led to my death several times over properly introduced me to Bez.

22

Bez

I seethed as the smoke and fire breathed in and out, taking the form of Abraham Remington. Flames trickled away from his body, delicately flickering around the summoning circle. He wasn’t the decrepit mage who’d withered toward the end of his mortal coil before being struck down during the coup meant to overthrow the Collective regime in Seattle. No, this Abe took on the form of his youth. The sweet smile he shot me with his boyish face was as wicked and deceitful as it was the first day I’d met him.

“Beelzebub, aren’t you quite the sight.” He ran a hand through his wavy blond hair. “You always did wear a suit well.”

My demon body didn’t even faze him.

“Well, well, well, Walter, too?” Abe eyed Wally up and down, studying his muscular body, the one he’d grown into since leaving his station in the archives. “Something’s different. Did you get contacts?”

“Diabolic essence.” Wally shrugged.

“Easier than Lasik, I suppose.” Abe nodded approvingly. Sickening. “You look better than the last time I saw you.”

“You too. Younger and less impaled,” Wally retorted, not missing a beat. Good for him.

“Yes, well, the afterlife is far more relaxing than all the decades I served at the helm as Magus.” Abe smirked, arrogant in a way I rarely saw except when alone with him in the archives, when not pretending civility in front of his mage rabble, when not feigning empathy for Mythic plights, when not tricking me into feeling for him.

I turned away, wishing to slaughter Abe’s spirit here and now by any method possible. But my impulsivity had already cost us once. I needed to swallow my rage, my regrets, my hatred and allow Wally a chance to discover answers.

“I do hope your mother is fairing well with the position,” Abe said nonchalantly, which only made Wally’s shocked inhale sharper and louder.

“You knew she was behind the coup?”

“Of course. Keep your enemies close and all that nonsense.” Remington chuckled. “Who do you think tipped her off about Ian? If she were ever going to make a move, she needed the right piece on the board.”

“You’re a fool, Abe.” I spun around and spat my words. “You overplayed your hand and died!”

He locked his gaze with me, unblinking, expression stone, then he smiled and released a carefree shrug. “You win some, you lose some.”

He had never looked so calm, so at ease, so free. That fucking piece of garbage! He tricked me into waging a war, he professed feelings for me, he manipulated my every thought, and then locked me away inside an orb so he could show me off like somedamned trophy. And now—now he gets to find peace in death! It wasn’t fair!

“Oh, Beelzebub, you look flustered,” Abe said, turning his attention to Wally. “Does he still crinkle his forehead when he finds himself incapable of a proper retort? It was truly the cutest little expr—”

“Silence.” Wally held up a small gem that he had removed from the assortment Kell had placed around her summoning circle.

The flames raged high, tightening around the small space provided to Abe.

“Do you know what happens to a soul that burns up to ashes?”

Abe shook his head but remained silent as the fire licked at his translucent skin.

“No?” Wally asked. “That’s because no one knows. So, I suggest you don’t fuck around unless you wanna find out.”

My entire body warmed, and it wasn’t the inferno Wally waved around, threatening Abe with. No, it was the steady command in Wally’s voice, the cold threat without an ounce of hesitation, the remorselessness in his eyes. Whenever he got like this, murderous and vengeful, I found myself lost in the pure bliss it brought.

It would take everything I had not to mount him here and now.

“And don’t think the fire is a one-and-done kind of thing; please understand how the spiritus stones work.” Wally held up the ruby. “These are fueled by ancient magics and currently fueled by a witch’s spell to enact the summoning.” He nodded toward Kell, who remained in a trance-like state during the necromancy ritual. “However, when I add my mana to it or alter the frequency of the casting in even the slightest way, it risksspirit damage. Irreversible damage. Agonizing pain you’ll carry in your soul until the end of time.

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