Page 23 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires (Diabolic Romance #3)

Wally

“Revenge is not a gift,” Kell said as we worked on sorting the various shattered Diabolic orbs.

It was a difficult enough task to put one back together, but in order to do so properly, we had to align the right pieces. It also involved cleaning off a lot of blood that’d stained the glass.

“Well, it’s not a gift you just hand out all willy-nilly,” Kell continued. “If I offer vengeance as a present, I save it for big anniversary gifts. Mora loves a cold dish of revenge served with a side of captive enemies.”

“Bez mostly likes video games, inappropriate toys, and food,” I said, already having a list of forty-eight potential gift ideas for his next upcoming birthday. Ugh, knowing Bez, he’d probably want gifts for the birthdays he missed out on during our visit to Hell for six months. “Really, the only thing Bez likes about birthdays and anniversaries is he gets to force me to eat his cooking without protesting…much.”

“Did he at least show you how grateful he was?” Kell shoulder-bumped me.

“Oh, yeah. There was some seriously serious gratitude happening.”

“Did you leave him sore?”

“Huh?”

“You know, on your journey to topdom,” Kell said with a flair. “It’s like stardom but for your dick.”

My face burned, and I couldn’t find the right words. “Oh, um, well, no, not exactly.”

“After a gift like that?” Kell shook her head. “You should’ve had that demon horns down, tails up, legs spread, and put away red. His ass, from the ball slapping pounding.”

“Uh…”

“Instead, it’s just your face that’s red.” She pinched my cheek. “Which is also adorable.”

I swatted her hand away. “I’m not sure that’s gonna happen. I might’ve overhyped the idea in my head.”

Kell had her head tilted, actively listening as she continued sorting glass shards.

“It’s just we didn’t exactly talk about it. I mean, we did in the heat of the moment, but then—”

“He railed you.”

“Exactly,” I breathed. “And then we got dragged to Hell, which led to a whole bunch of other stuff, oh damn so much happened in Hell, but there was another semi-hot sexy messing around stuff going on. Although, it was just oral.”

“Give or receive?”

“Receive.”

“Look at you, working your way to the top.”

“I don’t know. Not sure if it was ever really a thing or I just made it a thing in my head.” I sorted shards, finding it easier to identify the slightest distinctions between broken orbs than figure out what the hell I was trying to say. “I think I’m just gonna keep things the way they are.”

It wasn’t like I was a vers guy. I’d never been a vers guy. Never been interested in it before. But I’d also never been in love before. Never been in a relationship. Not a real relationship anyway. Since settling down with Bez, I found myself wanting to explore new things. All the things. Everything. And we had the time. Eternity. Presumably. Right now, that depended entirely on whether or not we survived the looming threat of devils.

“Do not give up on bending that boy over,” Kell said as she thrust against the table for an added effect. “That ass is too good to quit.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Seriously. Mora spent centuries trying to clap those cheeks before conceding her efforts; you can give it at least a few more months before you give up.”

“How is Mora?” I asked, not so subtly shifting the conversation away from Bez and me in the bedroom.

“Smooth.” Kell rolled her eyes. “She’s fine. She found and dealt with all the loose threads involving the coven. Guess there were a few stragglers elsewhere and some other Mythics who foolishly pledged fealty.”

“So, not the only one plotting revenge lately.”

“The things I would’ve done to those witches.” Kell crackled lightning around a balled fist.

“Wait, you didn’t deal with them?”

“Mora handled it.” Kell made a face. “Amicably.”

“That’s surprising.”

“Not really. She acts ruthless—and if it comes down to it, she’ll end a life or a hundred—but she’s a big ole softy. Don’t let her fool you.” Kell gestured. “Me, on the other hand? I’ll gut a bitch for looking at me sideways. I’ve got no time for bullshit. Life’s too short.”

“Aren’t you immortal?”

Between the essence Mora shared with her and all the dark magics she cast, Kell had lived hundreds of years and probably intended on living hundreds or thousands more.

“Well, other people’s lives are short. Shorter if they piss me off.”

“You sound like Bez.”

“Thank you.” Kell giggled.

We returned to sorting through the glass chunks, setting them apart on trays that Tony whisked into the back for a special rinse that’d delicately remove the blood and dirt and anything else obscurely the etchings without ruining the integrity of symbols.

We studied the glass, coming to the conclusions in our notes as Remington had in his, as I was certain the witch who’d created these orbs must’ve noted. The materials were unfamiliar, unlike any Fae glass I’d encountered. Granted, there weren’t exactly tests to identify the depth of Fae artifacts and relics due to their secrecy, but there were usually hidden signs of their culture, of their power, that seeped into everything they made. Oddly enough, the Fae magic used in the creation of the orbs felt foreign, wedged inside the symbols like a garnish as opposed to an entrée.

It was quiet work for the most part. Sometimes, Kell and I babbled for hours; other times, like now, we silently tinkered, lost in the artistry of salvaging artifacts and decoding ancient magics. Once we’d sorted them all, Kell began putting together the list of ingredients Remington claimed would restore a broken Diabolic orb to its full integrity. Well, he didn’t so much say it as his overly simplified coded notes explained it.

I mean, I was working with an added edge since I’d had to decipher his scribbles for years on behalf of my bosses, who didn’t have the time for paperwork, so I made a lot of ciphers for the coded writing.

And if it turned out the information provided was less than truthful, the added benefit of giving Bez a one-of-a-kind gift in the form of retribution was it also ensured I could follow up with Remington if he attempted to get one over on us. Though I very much hoped to never see the fallen Magus ever again. I’d allow Bez to throw the spiritus stone in a safe and allow it to rot, forgotten like so many of those trinkets.

“You know, at this rate,” Kell said, stacking ingredients into neat piles. “I can probably have a few of these recreated and devil-proofed in a few weeks.”

“Let’s focus on ready in a few days.”

“Darling, I can have one ready by tomorrow.” Kell side-eyed me. “Not all of us have a compulsive need to reread the directions three times over at each step.”

“It’s an invaluable skill that undercuts errors by 72%.”

“Did you read that in some silly step-by-step pamphlet on directions somewhere?”

“As a matter of fact—”

Lightning crackled so loudly it rang in my ears afterward. I froze, frightened I’d unleashed my essence in a fit, but there was no sign of my powers lashing out at Kell or the store itself. Lightning popped again and again so many times the black flashes of light outside flickered in here.

The silent sizzle between a thousand furious flurries of lightning strikes ended with an explosive eruption that shook the entire building. We weren’t on a fault line. Nothing about our private pocket portal city experienced the harsh extremes of nature; everything down to the temperature was cultivated by spells of the day.

We raced to the front, peering through the windows to find the sky slashed open. Seven long rips that’d literally carved open the dimensional walls. Not to the mortal world but to the ether between worlds, to funnel in a force of sweltering heat that poured into the city like a sludge.

I stopped breathing and commanded my body to cease the familiar routine because fucking hell, every inhale was a battle with humidity.

“I think you’re gonna need to get that Diabolic orb ready a lot sooner than tomorrow.”

Every secret part of me that yearned for this not to happen burst. The parts that prayed and hoped and wished and craved and wanted my worries to be delusional, typical overthinking, and filled with unnecessary preparation.

“Fuck me.” Kell swallowed hard. “Which devil do you think it is?”