Page 34 of Summoning Mr. Wrong
“State your name and the purpose of your summoning,” Kobaamoch instructed.
“Julian Moore,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. “And I didn’t mean to summon anyone. It was an accident.”
The enforcer’s head tilted at an angle that shouldn’t have been physically possible. “Elaborate on this accident.”
I explained the TikTok ritual, the blood drop, how I’d been trying to manifest financial abundance, not summon a demon. Throughout my explanation, the text beneath Kobaamoch’s skin moved faster, as if taking notes.
“Interesting,” they said when I finished. “Accidental summoning through corrupted ritual. Uncommon but not unprecedented.” They turned to Deus. “Asmodeus, detail the favor you were contracted to perform.”
Deus shifted uncomfortably. “That’s part of the complication, Enforcer. The contract was non-specific due to the accidental nature of the summoning. I’ve been attempting to determine the exact parameters of the favor required.”
“Unacceptable,” Kobaamoch said, the temperature dropping further with their displeasure. “All contracts, regardless of summoning method, contain specific favor parameters. Access your contract memory.”
Deus closed his eyes briefly, his tattoos moving more rapidly. “The favor appears to be related to the summoner’s desire for abundance, but not in the material sense he consciously intended. My analysis suggests the contract requires me to fulfill an emotional lack—specifically, to help the summoner recognize his own worth and capacity for connection.”
Kobaamoch was silent for a long moment, the text beneath their skin moving so quickly it was just a blur. “Unusual,” they finally said. “But consistent with the summoning conditions. Confirmation required.”
They turned those black eyes back to me. “Human. Has Asmodeus fulfilled this emotional function? Do you feel your worth has been validated? Your capacity for connection realized?”
The directness of the question caught me off guard. Had Deus fulfilled that function? In many ways, yes. He’d shown me I was worthy of care, of attention, of… love. He’d connected with me in ways I’d never experienced with anyone else.
But did I fully believe it? Did I trust that I deserved those things, that I could maintain them without him?
“I…” I hesitated, knowing the wrong answer could doom us both but unable to lie. “He’s helped me enormously. I feel more confident, more worthy than I did before he came. But I’m still… learning. Still growing into that belief.”
Kobaamoch’s expression didn’t change—couldn’t change, I realized, given the rigidity of their features. But the text beneath their skin slowed, then settled into a steady rhythm.
“Partial fulfillment detected,” they announced. “Insufficient for contract completion.”
Deus stepped forward. “Enforcer, I request an extension. The progress is clear, but the nature of emotional growth in humans is gradual. With additional time—”
“Extensions are not standard protocol,” Kobaamoch interrupted. “Particularly for contracts resulting from accidental summoning.”
“Please,” I said, surprising myself with my boldness. “This isn’t Deus’s fault. I’m the one who’s slow to change, to believe. If anyone should be punished, it’s me.”
Kobaamoch turned those unsettling eyes to me again. “Your willingness to accept consequences is noted, human. However, contract enforcement follows established procedures regardless of fault.”
They pulled what looked like an old-fashioned pocket watch from their suit jacket, consulting it briefly. “Standard resolution in cases of partial fulfillment is immediate recall of the contracted demon and implementation of the forgetting protocol for the human summoner.”
“No!” The word burst from me before I could stop it. “Please, you can’t make me forget him. I love him.”
The moment the words left my mouth, something strange happened. The air in the apartment seemed to vibrate, a high, clear note that wasn’t quite a sound but more a feeling. Deus gasped, his tattoos suddenly glowing with the same intensity they did during our most intimate moments.
Kobaamoch went completely still, the text beneath their skin freezing mid-scroll. “What was that?” they demanded, an actual emotion—surprise—breaking through their monotone.
Deus looked as shocked as I felt. “I think… I think that was the contract responding,” he said slowly. “Julian, say it again.”
“I love him,” I repeated, more confidently this time. “I love Deus.”
The vibration happened again, stronger this time. Deus’s tattoos blazed like the sun, so bright I had to squint. Even Kobaamoch took a step back, their perfect composure disturbed.
“Unexpected development,” they said, the layered voices in slight discord for the first time. “Reciprocal emotional bond detected. This alters the contract parameters.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, looking between Deus and the enforcer.
“It means,” Deus said, a note of wonder in his voice, “that the favor wasn’t just for me to help you recognize your worth and capacity for connection. It was for both of us to form a genuine bond.”
Kobaamoch consulted their strange watch again, then reached into another pocket and withdrew what looked like a small scroll. It unrolled itself in midair, text glowing and rearranging itself as they read.
