Page 8 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

I supposed she hadn’t read our barter policy. Dragonic jewels were fascinating but worth about as much as human gems. There was nothing to be gained for me and my research by her gaudy currency.

“I’ve already arranged something with the owner.” She waved a hand, dismissing me from my post. “So go retrieve the shopkeeper.”

I quirked a brow. I’d never met this woman in my life. “I’m actually an owner.”

“And I’m here about employing the services of your nymphs.”

“We don’t have any employees.”

Tony clacked his claws.

“We don’t have any Mythic employees,” I corrected myself. “Tony’s basically the manager here. And I, well, sort of run—”

“Again, put me in contact with the person in charge.”

“Again.” I raised my shoulders, trying not to turtle my neck. “I’m an owner. The owner. Well, one. Um…”

“I need to speak with someone in charge about the nymphs.” The elven woman waved a hand as if to shoo me from her presence and send me off to fulfill her request. Well, her order. More like her rude command. “I’m hosting a gala and could use their services on my gardens.”

A bell chimed, indicating someone new had stepped inside, but I didn’t catch sight of them when they turned down the nearest aisle up front while I stood locked in combat…conversation with this elf.

“Um, well, I’m in charge. Mostly. Sort of. I handle a lot of in-charge things. Books and inventory mostly. Valued exchanges. Paperwork. Legal documents. Artifacts. Employment records—which there are no nymphs in.”

“I’ve seen your nymphs tending to that hideous tree outside.” The elven woman lifted her head high, holding her nose up with a commanding flair and a disgusted expression, as if everything in the front of our store not only lacked in wonder but created an eyesore she forced herself to endure. “I don’t understand why you built this store inside a tree and named it after a well. It’s confusing. Unless that tree ate the well like the signs suggest.”

“Funny you should say that.” I chuckled, running a hand through the back of my head to ease my nerves by brushing my fingers through my blond curls. “There is an actual wellin the back—mostly unused except for the occasional explosive experiment on relics by Kell. Hence the name of the store. Well of Wonders. Which is a fusion of the owners, myself—Walter and Kell.”

Kell suggested we’d get a lot of pushback on the name, but I figured it’d make for an interesting anecdote, a bit of a puzzle for our guests to solve, something unique to spark curiosity. Personally, I loved our mysterious little shop set up inside a strangler fig. Even if I had to put up new signs every week to warn folks about the dangers of the tree.

Normally, they didn’t cause harm, aside from the tree it grew around and literally strangled the life out of to become a gnarled beauty and proof of the many wonders of nature. But this particular tree attracted a lot of woodland nymphs that imbued it with the strength to strangle anyone who wandered too far off the path leading to our front door.

“Oh, those nymphs.” I nodded. “Yeah, so we don’t employ them. In fact, Kell and I have actively discouraged them casting…” Well, I’d asked since I worried Kell would either create something destructive to scare the nymphs away or tell Mora, who had an even deadlier impulsive attitude than Bez. She merely sat on a throne while slaughtering those that annoyed her.

“I must’ve spoken with this Kell fella then, as he ensured me I could procure the services of the nymphs for my party.”

I frowned. “I don’t think you spoke toher.”

“I’m absolutely certain I spoke to her.” The elf cleared her throat, staggering for time as she piled on more bullshit to her request. A request I couldn’t even assist with since I didn’t have the contact information for the nymphs.

“But I do know when woodland nymphs patrol plant life, spreading seeds, pollinating, augmenting, altering wildlife.” Seriously, they were like the organic version of Fae as theyalways kept the shifts they conjured with magic within the realm of possibility for the plant or animal in question.

“You clearly do not understand who I am or the power my opinion wields in the Diabolic Oasis.” The elven woman glared, shooting dagger eyes down at me. “I personally know the king of this city.”

“So do I.”

“You know of her.” The elf scoffed. “Everyone does. But she’ll be attending my event along with so many others. Unless you wish for me to run this business into the ground, I suggest you get me the contact information for those woodland nymphs.”

“We don’t actually require clients to keep this shop afloat.” I grimaced. “I mean, it’s a wonderful perk, but the business is more about cataloging our own inventory and inviting others into a library-like bartering exchange.”

“You listen here, you little bastard.” She pointed her finger, jabbing the air and stirring the store with the radiance of her elven magic.

I took a deep breath, quelling the immediate impulse my Diabolic essence had to surge outward. It buzzed beneath my skin, itchy and synced to the anger I buried. Controlling my devilish powers at will wasn’t the easiest, but finding how they linked to my emotions served a vital lesson—even if it meant having to temper my own feelings to keep from slaughtering someone just because they were annoying.

“As a matter of—”

A hand swiped so swiftly past the elven woman; her aggravated expression didn’t even have a chance to lessen once the Diabolic strike beheaded her.

I gasped, taking in the sight of her lopped-off head whirl with this annoyed face before finally bouncing on the ground with several heavy thuds.

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