Page 90 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

“If that thing can actually hold a devil.” Corson gestured. “Just because it’s big doesn’t mean it’s powerful.”

“I don’t know.” Satan licked a lollipop. “Size might not be everything, but I’d rather drop a hammer on your head than a thimble.”

“Is it just a hammer you wanna slap my face with?” Corson winked.

“I can think of a few things.”

The power radiating off the nearly restored orb had a palpable weight. I nearly trembled at the force, the instinctive pull the tool had for drawing in Diabolics. It was unlike any other orb I’d encountered, from the one that held me for what felt like a lifetime to the thousands stored on that magical villa.

“It’ll hold,” I whispered, locking eyes with Corson. “Surely, you can tell the difference.”

His sapphire blue irises widened as he quieted his prattle and allowed himself to feel the gravity of the Diabolic orb. As the only other demon here who spent time bound inside these devices, he must’ve registered the same sensation.

“Okay.” Corson nodded in agreement. “Even if it is strong enough to contain a devil, could it handle two? Could any orb?”

“I believe it’s the added advantage to containing a devil,” Wally explained. “If they’re locked up separately, even incomplete devils, they might have the force to shatter these orbs over the course of time and persistence, and then we’re in the same situation. Instead of delaying this slaughter for a hundred years, a thousand, ten thousand, my hope is to keep them busy clashing as they fight for control inside their prison.”

It made some sense. Beelzebub would never submit to ally himself with Lilith, even if they were trapped together. And Lilith, being a fellow devil, would never submit to death. To Oblivion. The pair could quite literally fight each other until the end of time itself.

Corson smacked his hands together in a loud clap, a sudden and obnoxious noise. “Sounds like a plan. We finish this orb, then lock those two pricks up forever. Not quite satisfying as sending mommy to Oblivion, but I do relish the karmic justice of imprisoning her in a Diabolic orb.”

I, too, enjoyed the idea of trapping Beelzebub in such a way. The way I was trapped, having my essence shredded and fractured and depleted for years on end.

“There’s one problem.” Wally’s eyes turned pitch black, and his gaze drifted beyond us to the battle outside. “Kell is close to completing the orb, but Lilith won’t last that long. She’ll be depleted soon. Her essence is waning, and the fragmented bits are moving more sluggish each time Beelzebub rips them from her body.”

Wally’s devil essence pierced a different layer of sensory comprehension, allowing him to glimpse aspects of Diabolic power I never knew existed, something I didn’t believe any demon could access.

“If we wait any longer, we risk facing Beelzebub alone,” Wally said. “I don’t think that’s a fight we could endure for very long.”

“Minutes at best,” Corson said.

“Seconds for you lot,” I replied.

“Arrogant of you.” Satan snickered. “Hawt!”

“Not boasting,” I said. “I’d only live longer as a way to draw out my death. Consider your few agonizing seconds a blessing that Beelzebub wouldn’t deem you worthy of suffering.”

Satan pouted. “My inner masochist is aroused and offended.”

“So, it’s decided.” Wally swallowed hard, steadying his shaky voice. “We do this now. If a collective unity of demons hit Beelzebub with a barrage of attacks, it should distract him long enough for Kell to finish the final touches on the Diabolic orb. Then we seal up Lilith and Beelzebub and put their prison behind a billion walls of warding magic.”

I wanted to protest, to tell Wally not to join us, to demand it. Instead, I nodded in agreement with the other demons because as much as I didn’t want him to come to harm, I couldn’t protect him from the wrath of devils.

I had to believe in him during any situation. I had to encourage him in all things. Wally was the world to me, the universe itself. Nothing in existence mattered except for him. That also meant the things he cared for mattered. They had tomatter to a degree. That was what love meant, what I’d learned in the brief time we’d been together. If I loved Wally, loved him as much as I professed, then I had to be willing to fight for the things he cherished.

27

Wally

What had I done? What the hell had I done? What the ever-living Hell—quite literally—had I done? Somehow, I’d come up with the bright idea we needed to charge into battle and fight Beelzebub so he wouldn’t kill Lilith until we had the time to trap both of them inside the Diabolic orb.

I excused myself from the storefront and headed back toward my study, where I could sort through artifacts and determine what would help with…challenging a devil. My breathing hitched when I stepped by Kell and her workstation.

As uncertain as I was about everything, Bez’s wellbeing, the state of the world, my own abilities, there was one thing I knew for certain. The orb would work. There was this tension beneath my skin, essence circulating on high alert, ready to fight the threat of the broken artifact. The more Kell restored it, the more aware of its presence, its power, I became.

During the raid on the witch coven, this same sensation had hit. Struck. Sparked a fuse inside me to defend against a looming threat. But I didn’t make sense of it in the seconds that passed when confronted with those Diabolic orbs. Bez shattered them and the witches before I could react, before my essence could attack.

Attack.

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