Page 18 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires (Diabolic Romance #3)

Bez

Of fucking course Kell and Mora had dropped the ball in our absence. I practically ran this city in my spare time. Not that the desire met my fancy, but obviously, those kept in line by my presence decided to pounce on the vulnerability of this tragic oasis.

“You can reel back the arrogant bravado.” Mora folded her arms.

“Pardon?”

“I can always tell when your thoughts get smug,” she said. “Suppose you think you could’ve done better.”

“I’m just saying, the witches didn’t strike under my watch.” I smirked. “And if you’d let me handle them before my departure, then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

A situation that consisted of Kell and Tony working laborious hours to pinpoint the witch coven through scrying spells while creating a thousand different counter-incantations to the slew of traps conjured by a group who’d declared themselves a movement. A group of witches bent on ruling the Diabolic Oasis, which they’d probably remain something witchy.

I had no idea what they’d stolen from the shop, but based on Wally’s increasingly furrowed brow as he ran through the listed missing inventory, it was a lot.

“You’re sure about these?” he asked Antoninus, and the scorpion clacked one claw for yes.

Tony had compiled a list of everything stolen—because of course the bug knew more than Kell, who only paid attention to her projects—which allowed them some idea of what the witches were plotting, but apparently, they’d become quite adept at hiding their presence in the city.

“With these items, it’s no wonder you can’t track them,” Wally said, listing off several dozen things while naming various spells or concoctions one could make.

Damn. I hadn’t realized we were sitting with such an artillery at our fingertips. To think, I could’ve been throwing Molotov cocktails from petrified goblin eggs and the shavings of dragon scales this entire time during my training sessions with Wally. Then again, the wrestling really was the best part of the day.

“Why are you smirking?” he asked, growing flustered from his long list of spells he needlessly prattled on about. “I can’t believe we were robbed. These witches are the worst.”

“We don’t have time for witch drama,” I snarled. “We’ve got devils to contend with.”

“Devils whom you lot made a problem,” Mora noted, pursed lips in a judgy little face no matter whose body she wore.

“People with witchy wives who lose important things shouldn’t throw fireballs,” Wally added, continuing his evaluation of the inventory list.

“Hey, I’m not responsible for any of this,” Kell protested. “I think fireballs should always be thrown. In fact, I wanted to light up all the thieving witches the first time they attempted to steal from me. It was Mora who wanted to play peacekeeper.”

“We’re running a kingdom here, not a free-for-all.”

“You won’t be running anything if Lilith flees to this world and slaughters us all as a practice run to regaining her strength,” I said.

“No one’s getting slaughtered,” Wally said. “I just need the scrying board and a few ingredients, and I should be able to locate the coven. Or, at the very least, one of their caches, which might lead to the coven. Or another cache. Or a person they sold part of their cache to. Or—”

“Wally,” I snapped. “You’re doing the overthinking worry thing again.”

“Oops.” He grimaced. “Yeah, I can find them.”

“If you think you can find them after the countless hours I spent searching for a workaround on their cloaking spells, be my guest.” Kell scoffed. “FYI—half of those stolen goods from our store are making it impossible to track them. Well, pinpoint them. The last spell very notably informed me that the witch coven was, in fact, still on earth.”

“Geez, you don’t even know if they’re still in the Diabolic Oasis or not?” I sighed.

“They’re in the Oasis,” Wally said with the cutest cockiest little grin. “No one steals a basilisk egg and then abandons it. They’re the size of a person and weigh about two solid tons. And anyone who would steal it knows it can’t undergo dimensional travel without proper preparation, which, if any of you remember, took a long time for me to situate when we bought it for the shop.”

None of us remembered because none of us really paid much attention to the rules of magics that Wally loved rambling about.

“You still can’t track them,” Kell said with a frustrated edge. It was rare to find someone with a spell that could outwit her. The fact this coven had stolen from her and likely used Kell’s own preventative measures wasn’t lost on me. Oh, how it must’ve infuriated her.

“I’m not going to track them,” Wally said, holding up the list of lost inventory. “There are simple spells to find rarities that no protection wards can deceive. It’s just a matter of doing the research.”

“You son of a bitch,” Kell muttered.

“I won’t argue with you there.” I pointed at her, smiling until Wally frowned. “What? You are. Your mother’s the worst.”

The horrors of this situation, the dire existence-ending possibility, fizzled away for a few brief minutes as Wally muttered with aggravation over our aloofness while fighting a smile that came every time he sank into the joy of research. He couldn’t help but smile. After all, his nerdy, little obsessive need to study had truly paid off. I settled into this moment, savoring the calm between storms.

I allowed Wally’s joy to keep me calm while he prepared his little locator spell, ignoring the fact that if Mora hadn’t insisted I not involve myself, then I could’ve killed these annoying witches before we even went to Hell.

Why does no one simply accept my ruling as truly superior?

Thankfully, it didn’t take my budding genius long to pinpoint the enemy. We arrived at a collection of warehouses where Wally led the way, me at his side and Mora and Kell close behind. He breezed through the maze of buildings, muttering probabilities like he was the smartest rat about to snag the cheese until we reached a collection of trees leading to the nearby forest.

“I got this.” Kell sidestepped past Wally, confidently taking the lead since he’d solved a riddle in days that she hadn’t in the last several months.

Using Nature’s Blessing, Kell uncloaked the hidden glamours put in place by the plant life.

“Interesting sorcery,” Wally said, examining the plants that shriveled. “What spell is that?”

“It’s like the familiar bond,” Kell said. “Flowers seeped in magic by witches here and serving as familiars.

“Plants can be familiars?” Wally’s puzzled expression quickly tucked that piece away for a later observation. “Fascinating how the pollen carries the Mythic residue of magic in the air.”

“Yes, yes, yes, the coolest of the cool,” I said. “Can we kill now and study later?”

“Do we really need to kill them?” Wally asked. “If they understood the situation—”

“Fuck that,” Mora said. “I tried diplomacy. They can all rot in whatever witchy afterlife awaits them.”

“Returned to the goddess,” Kell answered. “May they choke on her roots until the end of time.”

And with that, she led the way into this warehouse despite the fact Wally’s spell directed our path deeper inside and eventually down a set of stairs that took us into a cellar filled with artifacts galore and a group of witches who dropped everything under the direction of one who shouted at them to find their formation.

“Reminds me of the toxic cheer squad I was in.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. Goddess.” Kell smacked her cheeks with shock. “How am I just now learning you were a cheerleader?”

“I was really just there to be a thrower,” Wally clarified. “But weak arms—they expected me to be like Alistair.”

“He does have such strong arms,” Kell said.

“Anyway.” Wally made a pouty face. “Apparently, I didn’t have enough pep for the team, so I got cut.”

I smirked. “Please tell me you kept the uniform.”

“From when I was fourteen?” Wally raised a brow. “No. It wouldn’t even fit.”

I tilted my head, leaning closer to him. “The number of times you’ve said that, and yet, we always manage.”

“You dare step into our base of operations and make idol conversation,” a witch said, still directing the others, so based on his confidence and bluster, I figured him for the leader. “The gall of coming here, behaving in such a way.”

“I’ll cum where I want, thank you very much!” I winked at Wally, who rolled his eyes.

“Seriously? Not the time. But also, told you I’d find them.” Wally nodded toward the coven leader, cocky smile that his research had paved the way, so much so even his tail pointed. A good sign indicating that his essence was syncing up to his desires, even if for basic motor functions.

“You mean fell into our trap,” the coven leader said.

“I’d rather not kill your entire coven, Desmond.” Mora sauntered in front of Wally and Kell while I remained in the back, seeing as the witches circled us from every angle as if they could flank our position.

“You won’t have the option,” Desmond said.

“Wow. Didn’t realize you were so eager to die.” Mora snickered. “But if I don’t have an option—”

“No,” Desmond snapped. “You won’t have an option, as in you won’t be given the option to kill us. You’ll be dealt with.”

I joined in Mora’s laughter. The audacity of these simple witches. I understood their bravado in challenging Kell, assuming they could fair against one of their own, but surely, they understood a single coven couldn’t defeat one demon, let alone two and a devil hybrid.

“I get the bravado in stealing from me,” Kell said, holding back her own chuckle. “Assuming, foolishly, you could challenge one witch and win as a self-proclaimed powerhouse coven, but surely you’re not so arrogant to believe yourselves capable of defeating two demons and a devil hybrid.”

“This lot wouldn’t even fair against one demon,” I growled, relishing in the shutter it sent through the coven witches surrounding us. Already, they hesitated, they questioned their predicament, and in a few moments, they’d beg for a mercy I was in no mood to grant. “And they think they can kill three?”

“Why kill you when we can snare you in our trap?” the witch leader asked.

“Please, these sigils won’t even stop me.” Kell shook her head, a grin on her face and pity in her eyes.

“They’re not meant to contain you, wicked witch,” Desmond said. “Merely meant to keep your focus split as the real trap unfolds.”

“Excuse me, but um, not to be that person.” Wally raised a hand because of course he had to be polite even as we infiltrated their pathetic attempt at a coup. “Aren’t traps better if they’re not announced?”

Mora strutted forward with her hands on her hips. “Hun, never underestimate the hubris of a man who feels slighted because he’s not in charge.”

“Hubris?” Desmond scoffed. “You are the one with hubris. demon bitch! We finally have a city, a place to gather without Collective oversight. A place with real power. Potential. Possibility.”

“You’re just saying synonyms now.” Mora gestured with aloof dismissal of Desmond’s comments. “You’re mad because you wish to wage a war against an army of mages. You’re delusional because you think one hidden city can offer the Mythics refuge to conspire their assault. You’re arrogant because you think you can run this city better. A city that wouldn’t exist without me. A city cultivated and culminated by the network of Mythics, mages, mortals, and everyone under the fucking sun that I organized, gathered, saw a glimmer of potential in.”

“You’re short-sighted, Mora.”

“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 a binding 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.

I zipped across the room, shattering the wall of orbs behind the coven leader, then turned my attention onto the witches themselves. They moved so slowly, each one lost in Desmond’s smokey serpent that battled Kell’s lavender mist. The sizzle of black lightning crackled against the concrete flooring. When glass burst in swift succession, the startle lowered their guards, and these feeble witches attempted to flee.

The instinct painted their faces, fear dripped from their pores, and confusion reverberated in their shaky bodies. Gods, I savored their dread, their anxiety, their immobility. It fueled me and pushed down the terror of someone daring to contain me in another orb.

“Never again,” I growled.

And with that, I leapt so fast I barely found the time to take joy in the carnage. One by one, I tore apart the coven witches, bashing in skulls, ripping out hearts, slicing off arms to beat others with.

Crunch. Snap. Splosh. Splatter. Clink.

Bones breaking. Blood gushing. Glass crashing. A symphony of death.

The brutality was soothing. The agony as they shrieked brought comfort, even if their deaths were swift. A quick death was boring, certainly, but that boredom ate away at the anxiety in my chest. As the witches fell, they dropped their orbs, breaking the fragile items. Soon, I found myself cackling in unison with the wailing cries of anguish.

“Slaughter. Mayhem. Horror.” I grabbed a young witch by the face and squeezed until her head popped with a beautiful crackle and bloody eruption. “Oh my!”

Wally shouted my name. Mora pestered about something. Kell won her battle with the smoke. But I blissfully ignored them, zipping from one location to another.

This coven actually believed they could contain a devil, that they could control an army of Diabolics, but they couldn’t even keep up with the movements of one demon. I mean, a demon as grand and skilled as myself certainly made for a real challenge, but they had no spells at the ready. No wards to hinder my assault. No incantations to mend their injuries. No chance of survival. Kell’s sorcery had unraveled the simple set of traps they’d lined and really left them completely vulnerable.

“Fools!” I shouted with gusto as I slapped a witch so hard his head spun around, and he toppled over onto one of his frightened friends who crawled away on the ground. Or tried until the dead weight pinned them and my foot crushed their lungs.

“You won’t stop me from—”

I darted behind Desmond and jammed my clawed hand into his back, gripping his spine tight until his arrogant shouting twisted into a whimpering, begging screech.

“You talk too much, prick.” I laughed as I ripped out his spine.

Wally and Mora screamed “no” at my actions. Not at the anguish on Desmond’s face. Not at his bloody bone mixed with meaty bits of muscle that clung to the spine. Not at the blissful delight that came from the Diabolic orb he held shattering when it crashed onto the ground. No, they hollered for another loss.

The flame key copy Kell had created slipped between the fingers of the dying Desmond.

I went to snatch it up, but it fell away into the ether and vanished entirely. “Fuck.”