Page 4 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires (Diabolic Romance #3)

Bez

I lunged from the Diabolic threads laced throughout the Oasis. When a demon or devil covered an area in their essence, it allowed them to control the territory in a subtle manner, establishing a foothold for their dominion. These invisible webs of essence weren’t mine, so much as Mora’s, but I darted inside them for the fast travel it offered, instantaneously returning to the Well of Wonders where Wally clashed outside with some blue-skinned demon whose heart I ripped out of his chest immediately upon my arrival.

“Son of a bitch,” the foul demon shouted. “Again? Is that your fucking go-to move? Taking hearts?”

“I am quite charming.” I grinned, then took a bite out of the still-beating organ.

It sparked a memory. I recognized this essence from when I first encountered the demon, devouring him alongside Mora. Back when that fool Eligos sought to slay me and use the trace amounts of Beelzebub’s essence entwined with mine to challenge the devils in their own Hell domains.

“Fun.” I tightened my gaze, locking eyes with this audacious prick. “Guess I won’t have to share my snack this time.”

“I’m a tasty treat for sure, but I’m not here for conflict or conquest.” His fanged teeth twisted into a sick smirk. “The name’s Corson, and I’m merely here to—”

“Shut up!” I crushed his heart in my hand.

Corson bit the air, playfully panting. “Bossy.”

“You attacked Walter. There’s only one recourse.”

“How’d you know I was in trouble?” Wally asked.

“Now is not the time for your inquisitive prodding.”

“Hmmm.” Corson wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m always up for a bit of prodding.”

I snarled.

Corson huffed. “The tension here is so not my vibe.”

As much as I’d like to say my investigative skills had improved, how I’d solved Mora’s mission about the intrusive demon that’d broken into her Diabolic Oasis, my arrival was purely happenstance. Whenever Wally activated his devil essence, my body shuddered ever so subtly, recalling every day spent with the devil’s might coursing through my being, reliving every eon spent at Beelzebub’s feet, serving the god-king who reigned with a callous cruelty unlike any I’d encountered since my lifetimes in his Hell.

Despite the fact essence remained veiled and hidden from detection, my instincts were synced onto every movement of the devil essence radiating within Wally. And since he’d acquired it, he never accessed the power so heavily, potent and destructive in the air. It served as the only proof I required that he was in danger.

“To be clear, he attacked me.” Corson pointed a gold-painted clawed finger at Wally as if he’d ever provoke a fight. “I came in peace, merely attempting to deliver a message.”

“Liar.” I lunged forward, slashing my claws at his throat.

“Bezzy, no!” Mora leapt from the finely hidden threads of her essence, positioning herself between Corson and me.

Of course, she proclaimed herself the only demon allowed to weave her essence in such a manner, but she allowed anyone of a Diabolic nature the privilege of accessing her threads. She said it was a sign of her graciousness. I said it was further proof she loved having as many people inside her as possible.

“What is your problem?” I growled. “You’re the one who told me to kill this guy.”

“Of course this is a case for Mora.” Wally pouted. “So much for chivalry.”

“Are you whining?” I glared. “You’re the one always telling me not to kill folks.”

“That’s before he attacked me and tried destroying my shop.”

“I did no such thing,” Corson commented.

“Bezzy, focus. Perhaps on his official banner of passage.” Mora kept her telekinesis trained on me, an effort to deter me should I attempt to strike this foul demon.

I scoffed. As if she could.

“I didn’t realize Lilith was sending an ambassador.” Mora curtsied.

“Why would you?” Corson shrugged. “You don’t even have an embassy in this shitty dimension. How is one meant to be greeted upon their arrival?”

“Well, usually they arrive at one of the official gates,” Wally interjected, a moody expression on his face and a tangent ready to explain the sophisticated complexities of how the Diabolic Oasis had several points of entry for incoming and outgoing traffic.

“A truly disgraceful display on my part.” Mora smiled, adding this cutesy inflection meant to come across as delicate, which only made her sound pitiful.

Anything involving devils resulted in Mora’s immediate submission. Not that I could blame her. If one deemed her world a threat, they’d shred the walls and burn the magic holding this place together until only cinders remained. But I figured the Diabolic Oasis wouldn’t catch any devil’s interest, a meager pocket portal at first glance and barely anything more than a tiny realm veiled inside another world. Our dimension wasn’t even linked to the infinite web of dimensions creating the ever-expanding universe.

Mora’s city was more like a downloadable content to the mortal world. I shivered at the idea of the game of life that was being a boring, basic mortal. Yuck. But unlike DLC, Mora’s world would never become anything more than an added extension. Downloadable Loser Content because only losers paid extra for game add-ons when they were just gonna buy the special edition that included all the add-ons later anyway. I stared at Walter, the truest victim of DLC syndrome. Unlike him, I had the patience for slow-moving mortal time and always waited until I could make Wally procure the deluxe special versions of the games I indulged in.

“What’s this about an official banner?” Wally asked, squinting his eyes as if that’d somehow assist. It wouldn’t. Even I didn’t notice the display right away since I no longer lived in Hell or entertained demon delegates sent on Diabolic business.

“When a devil wishes to speak to another, they often use a proxy since so few deign to step foot outside the glory of their own dimension,” I explained, biting back my sarcasm as best I could.

“And Lilith is constantly jerking herself off over the glory of her Hell realm,” Corson added with a snicker.

I glared. The audacity to speak about his devil in such a manner. Even if she were a vile shrew—I’d had the misfortune of Lilith’s visits to Beelzebub’s Hell on the rare occasions when she deigned another world worth her ventures. I’d bet if she heard this Corson’s cocky comment, she’d toss his ass back into Oblivion.

“Okay, but where is this banner?” Wally gestured everywhere, searching for the hidden cue on Diabolic etiquette when it came to a situation such as this.

“Oh, sweetie.” Mora crinkled her face and spoke with a pitchy lilt. “Still can’t channel your Diabolic senses? His banner’s practically on your lap.”

“Hence why I figured you were berating me.” Corson grinned. “Maybe you didn’t like my display, didn’t like me slapping your face with my big, thick Diabolic energy.”

“I’m about to slap you, demon.” I snarled.

“Apologies.” Corson raised his arms in feigned surrender. “I’m terrible at diplomatic policy, yet Mother continues to drag me into this stuff. I’m merely attempting to be friendly.”

“Don’t want your friendship.”

“Boo.” The arrogant blue demon pouted. “Here I was hoping we’d stay up late, braiding each other’s hair and sharing secrets while eating the ice of cream.”

Wally continued searching for the banner, stepping right through the translucent fabrics. Since Wally hadn’t come close to mastering control over his Diabolic abilities, he couldn’t enhance his vision to see between the dimensional layers of reality where the banner of diplomacy floated. Each strand of fabric moved like a floral flag, some pedals coiled inward while others stretched out far, revealing emblems unique to Lilith’s Hell. Beacons of her devil’s signature. These intangible pieces of energy conjured by a devil weren’t exactly the essence of Lilith’s being, but they carried her scent, radiated her aura, commanded her authority.

“What exactly brings you here?” Mora asked, cautious but too curious not to investigate.

“An invitation, of course.” He reached into the satchel hanging at the side of his leather skirt, meant to evoke some warrior garb from a long-forgotten culture. Retrieving a piece of parchment, he opened it with essence and unveiled the flaming orb that served as a key to Lilith’s dimension.

Beelzebub would make similar ones for his demons venturing outside the realm. It was linked directly to the full power of a devil. Even as such a tiny item, Lilith’s being oozed through each flick of the fire, casting an immense palpable presence.

I clamped my jaw, teeth ready to crack under the pressure.

“Lilith has decided to hold a banquet in honor of Walter Alden’s ascension as a devil, per se, and would like to extend him an invitation to her Hell.” Corson bowed, raising his arms and offering Wally the fiery orb.

“Oh, fuck me,” I groaned.

Corson cocked his head. “Maybe if you ask nicely, phony devil.”

“Stop talking to me, or the next thing I rip out of you will be your tongue.”

“He’s jesting.” Mora laughed, then elbowed me not-so-subtly and shot me a glare that absolutely meant I needed to shut the fuck up, but I had no energy or desire to placate this prick at our feet.

Correction, at Wally’s feet. Wally, who stared at the flames in awe, curious and cautious and calculating every observation that’d likely turned all the gears in his overly active mind.

“She’s having a banquet for me?” The flickering fire danced in Wally’s eyes, illuminating the hazel irises until the black void of essence completely overtook his sight. The black orbs studied the fiery invitation. “Why? How?”

“As the newest devil, Lilith wishes for an audience with you,” Corson explained as if Wally should grasp such things.

“She knows I’m not a devil devil, right?” Wally raised an eyebrow and bit his lower lip as he did his very best not to elaborate on the unique complexities of his situation. His forehead crinkled in the cutest way as he held back the extra notes he wanted to add to the conversation.

Honestly, devils so rarely birthed themselves into existence, it made some modicum of sense Lilith would crave to have one of her carnal festivities with a knock-off devil. True devils were consciousness constructed in the dead, empty spaces of the universe. They filled the void of nothingness with tangibility, conjuring a Hell realm for their being, for their world, for their eternity. But the last devil rising I’d heard of was more than a thousand years ago. With so many infinitely growing dimensions, there were few empty spaces to carve out Hells in this universe.

“She knows all,” Corson answered Wally’s question. “Lilith can never be deceived.”

That wasn’t a response so much as a warning, a threat, a promise she’d learn the full extent of Wally’s being. I could think of no other reason for her to offer him a key to her Hell, a party in his honor.

“Here is all the information on the Devil’s Banquet.” Corson handed over the flaming orb, which Wally carefully cradled between his hands. “During the event, you’ll be expected to present yourself to Lilith’s Court and declare war, alliance, or neutrality with her realm.”

“W-w-what?”

“It’s all very standard,” Mora said with a smile. “Most devils choose neutrality with each other, alliances becoming demanding.”

“And most devils are too cowardly to attend a Devil’s Banquet and declare war,” Corson added.

There was one devil in existence who attended Lilith’s ceremony and declared war in the midst of a party—Beelzebub himself. It was before my time, but the recounting of the tales passed for eons from the mouths of the demons who attended the banquet with Beelzebub as he tore his way through Lilith’s Hell to challenge her. A sign of his boldness but also a sign of her strength. Beelzebub only believed in war, conquering, and death. Yet, he left Lilith’s realm at a stalemate where the two clashed for millennia in between other wars.

“I look forward to your attendance, Walter Alden.” Corson took a bow, waved a hand in some frilly bid to add levity to his formal behavior, and then used a tail to rip through the dimensional barrier of the city.

Lilith’s added strength to her diplomat allowed him to slice through the intricately woven layers of this hidden world with ease. Corson backstepped and vanished as the tear in the dimension sowed itself shut as swiftly as it’d fallen apart.

“Is this real life?” Wally blinked several times at the fire in his hands, wondering about a million things based on the frazzled expression. “Did I just get invited to Hell?”

“You did,” I answered, resisting the tremble in my voice.

“I mean, that’s cool and all, but I’m not ready for Hell.” Wally grinned. “I’m totally gonna study this key, though. I bet I can figure out the frequencies Lilith harnessed to hack into our dimension. Maybe even find a way to prevent it in the future. Actually, I bet—”

“You can’t,” I interjected. “You can’t say no to a devil’s invitation.”

“What?”

This Devil’s Banquet sent an icy chill of horror through my being. Hell was unlike any experience. Lilith’s domain might not be as horrid as Beelzebub’s, but none were gentle on the mortal coil. A single step into Hell would shatter a human’s sanity beyond repair. Would the devil essence coursing inside Wally be enough to protect him from such horrors?