Groaning, I push Demonfang away and shift so I can properly lie down on the bed. Shadechomp shifts to remain by my shoulder, which means he’s covering most of the pillow. Demonfang clearly feels betrayed because he stays by my legs.
“What am I supposed to do, boys?” I murmur. “Am I stupid for even thinking about this? I mean… I should know better than to trust my father, right?”
But I do believe him, which is incredible because Lucifer is far more than merely the father of Lance, Larissa, Leo, Lucas, Logan, Lara, Lena, Lola, Lydia, Landon, Lani, and myself.
He’s the father of lies as well.
No matter what comes out of his mouth—lies or truths—he says those words with only one intention in mind ever.
His aim is only ever to further his own agenda, to serve himself in some way.
Only fools make deals with the devil.
Am I foolish enough to try to take him on and try to beat him at his own game?
Chapter 20
Sleep. It’s something everyone needs. Without it, we can become cranky, irritable, unreasonable…
Honestly, that’s how we normally are. We’re demons, remember?
And sleep is not coming easily to me tonight, and it has nothing to do with the fact that Demonfang keeps biting my ankle. Yes, biting. Not nipping. His fangs really are demonic, and he’s keeping me awake just to be a brat, but I almost welcome the pain. It’s keeping me awake, and I need to think.
But I also need to sleep on my father’s offer too.
Finally, I get sick of my skin having to heal itself in between every bite, so I sit up and motion for Demonfang to come up by my other shoulder. No, of course not. He lies right next to me as if he’s some kind of body pillow, and Shadechomp, of course, takes exception to that, so now I’m squished between the two of them, but honestly, even though it’s hot to the point of being suffocating, there’s something so very comforting about their close proximity that my eyelids finally do start to close of their own accord.
I’m dreaming. I just know I am even though I’m in bed, snuggled by my hellhounds. There’s something different about Hell, and I teleport out of my room and head to the spot where souls come when they first find their way here.
There's no guard, and there are more wailing souls. The silence is deafening.
Confused, I seek out the first lost soul I can find, only she doesn’t seem all that lost.
“Why are you here?” I demand.
“I’m here because I killed my husband.”
“Do you regret that?” I ask. “Since it forced you to come here? Are you sorry for what you did?”
“No,” she answers, and there’s an honest tone to her voice that surprises me.
“You don’t regret killing him?”
“No. He had been abusive toward me, and I couldn’t… I didn’t have the strength to leave him. I didn’t have the money, and he said that if I ever left, he would take me to court and get our daughter taken away from me, that I would never see her again.”
“Couldn’t you have asked others for help?”
“I did, but no one would. My husband… People thought he was this funny, amazing guy. He would always put on a face when he was around others, but at home, he turned into a monster. When Ivy told me that he slapped her for getting a B on a test, I snapped. I knew I couldn’t just run away. I had no job since I quit to stay at home to be with Ivy. She’s seven now, so I’ve been out of the work world for too long, and… No real friends, no family… I had no other choice. To keep Ivy safe, I killed him, and then, so she could have a better life than I could have given her, I killed myself.”
Her eyes are shining bright.
“You miss her,” I say, nodding toward her tears.
“No,” the woman murmurs. “No. She’s happy now. I’m forever separated from her, and that’s all right, but she’s already in the process of being adopted by a loving family.”
“You aren’t depressed?” I ask, shocked. “You aren’t sad?”
“No. Why would I be? Yes, Frank had been a terrible villain, the worst man you could be married to, but if I hadn’t been with him, if I hadn’t made the choices I made, even the terrible ones, Ivy wouldn’t have been born, and Ivy… she’s an amazing girl. I would live through that abuse again and again so long as I had her each and every time. She made it all worthwhile.”
“But you don’t get to see her grow up,” I protest.
For the first time, there’s a bit of doubt clouding her eyes. “You won’t allow me to see her anymore?”
I won’t allow…
And that's when I realize that this dream is a vision of what Hell would be like if I'm in charge.
I glance around. Hell seems brighter than ever before. The rocks and soil are still red, but there's more light shining down from holes in the ceiling. We can look up at those on Earth. Even if we're separate from them, we can still observe them.
“You can watch over her still,” I murmur.
The woman beams at me, her soul bright, far too bright for Hell.
She doesn't belong here. If she had any kind of a support system, she would have been able to leave her abusive husband and been able to forge a path for herself so she could have been the one to raise her daughter, but it's not easy to just walk away from an abuser even with friends who have your back. Abusers dominate you. They shield you away from the rest of the world so you feel that you have no one else besides them in your corner, only they never fight for you. They only ever fight you. And it's always behind closed doors, where no one else can see the abuse. And those abusers are always the charismatic ones that no one would ever believe would hurt a fly. How could they possibly do anything wrong? No, the woman's asking for it. It's her fault. She made him angry.
Even if she made him angry, there's no excuse for hitting her. No one has power over you, and no one can force you to feel one way or another. Your emotions are under your control and no one else's. You can choose how to react to any given scenario.
Abusers ruin your self-confidence to the point that you doubt everything you think, do, say, and feel. You start to sabotage yourself, which only lessens how your abuser sees you to the point that you're considered weak, pathetic, and uninspired. You're nothing at all, the bottom of the barrel, the dirt on the soles of his shoes that gets stomped off on the welcome mat.
Only no one is welcome in the home, not really.
It’s him who should be down here in Hell, and I’m sure he is somewhere.
The woman’s soul shifts to gaze up at the opening to Earth nearest us. I leave her to her bit of happiness despite being separated from her daughter for all of eternity, and in the easy-going nature that can be dreams, I easily locate Frank.
He’s surrounded by two other souls, but when I shoo them away with a wave of my hand, Frank floats over to me.
“How can I help you, Princess of Flames?” he asks.
Hmm. So that’s the name I go by? I can’t say I dislike the title.
“You abused your wife, didn’t you? To the point that she killed you and then herself in order to keep you away from your daughter Ivy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you hate her for what she did?”
“For…”
“Killing you. For separating you from Ivy.”
“Do I wish I was still alive? Yes.”
“So you’re furious.”
Frank shakes his head. Even in soul form, I can tell he had been a handsome man. I think most abusers probably are.
“You aren’t irate with her?”
“Wanda did what she thought she had to do.” Frank shrugs. “I’m making the most of it. A few of my friends are down here already. I’m sure it’ll feel like no time at all before more friends head on down here.”
“Your daughter…”
Frank wrinkles his nose. “Maybe I could’ve done better by her, but I failed. I’m here now. There’s nothing I can do for her now.”
“Nothing at all?” I
murmur.
“If there’s a way we can affect those on Earth…”
“What would you do?”
“Make sure no one hurts her,” he growls protectively.
“How ironic. Your wife…”
“She did what she had to do.”
I say nothing.
“I’m not proud of everything I did, and I’m here. I deserve it.”
“Wanda’s here too. Did you know that?”
“She killed me and then herself. Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“You don’t hate her.”
“No.”
“Do you think she hates you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“I figured she doesn’t want to see me.”
He’s grown up a little since coming to Hell. It’s too late, of course. There’s no get out of Hell card like there is a get out of jail card, but he’s not upset to be here. He’s not even upset with his wife.
And they aren't the only souls who have entirely accepted being sentenced to eternal damnation. There are all kinds of people down here, from the worst of the worst to those who might've gone to Heaven if only they had made a few choices toward the light instead of darkness.
But there’s no wailing. No gnashing of teeth. In fact, all of Hell feels several degrees cooler than it ever had while Lucifer had been in charge.
The entire place, everywhere I go, isn’t nearly as dark as before. The Prince of Darkness, I have no idea where he is, and I don’t bother to ask about him. I don’t want to see him. In this dream, I want to pretend that Hell is my domain. I rule over the lost souls, only none of them seem to be lost.
I head back to the spot where the new souls enter Hell. It takes only a few minutes for a soul to emerge.
He glances around and shrugs, nodding to himself a few times.
“You are?” I ask, my voice booming in a way that makes me think of my father.
“Walter.”
“Walter…”
“Walter Hydra.”
“Why are you here, Walter?” I ask.
“I embezzled a lot of money from the company I worked for to the point that it went bankrupt.”
I lift my eyebrows.
“A lot of people lost their jobs as a result,” he adds.
“Do you feel guilty for that?”
“No.”
“You aren’t upset that you’re here?”
“No. I figured I would come here. Died in my sleep. Heart attack. My doctor said I should avoid red meat, but I treated myself to one last red steak. Rare. Filet mignon. Absolutely divine. I didn’t think it would do me in that quickly, but…”
“What about all of the people out of work? You really don’t feel guilty at all?”
“They can collect unemployment.”
“The company, though…”
“It was a printing company. Trust me. The world isn’t hurting because it shut down.”
“You’re perfectly happy to be here.”
“My family still has the money.”
“The embezzlement, don’t the authorities know about it?”
“They do, but I laundered the money. My family is safe.”
“Are you sure about that?” I ask.
“My family is safe,” he says. “I think karma got me for the stealing, but so long as my family has the money, I have no regrets.”
Unreal. There’s no sadness here, no despair, no guilt, nothing at all. Hell isn’t even a place of darkness. Of course there’s no hope here, but the souls aren’t like the lost souls my father collected.
No, this Hell is very much a different place altogether. This isn’t my father’s Hell. It’s an entirely new place, one of my own creation.
Is this what I want for the future, though?
I glance around and see inconceivably happy souls all around, and just like that, I know what I’m going to do, and it has nothing to do with Bethlehem and what my father wants.
It’s going to be what I want.
Lucifer won’t like that one bit, but frankly, he doesn’t have a say in what I do. I’m my own person, and I will forge my own path, and I will have free will.
He won’t stop me.
No one will.
Chapter 21
The heavy weight of Demonfang crushing my chest wakes me the next morning. Not that you can tell morning from night here in Hell. It’s more an internal clock thing. The sun doesn’t shine down here, obviously, considering that the Earth is in the way of the light reaching here.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t see. There’s so much lava all over the place that has a light of its own. Lava from Hell isn’t the same lava that makes its way to the surface from an erupting volcano, just in case you’re wondering.
Yes, there are shadows all over the place down here, but there’s more than enough light. We aren’t blind here, and we aren’t bats. We don’t need to use sonar to see.
My hellhounds are in a foul mood, snapping and growling at each other, and I ignore them as I head down to the kitchen to eat some breakfast. Someone brought down some fruit from Earth, and I help myself to a banana that’s not quite ripe enough.
Unsurprisingly, Larissa is the last one to join us, and she ends up eating some dry cereal. Half the time, Lara doesn't join us because she doesn't eat much, but she's here, arguing with Lena about the food Lena eats. Normal on all three accounts, so I shift my focus over to Lola, Lily, and Lani.
Lani’s stabbing at her eggs as if they personally offended her. Lily is eating yogurt and licking her spoon in a way that makes my stomach churn. As for Lola, she’s making herself some eggs, murdering them basically, overcooking them.
Again,
Everything seems normal, which makes me think that Lucifer didn’t talk to any of my sisters and offer them the same deal as he had me.
But my brothers…
I whistle and motion for my hellhounds to follow me as I bite into an apple. They’re still a bit bitter and angry with each other for some reason, but neither seem to be all that talkative, so I let them work through their own issues.
We approach my brothers’ mansion, and I stroll on in through the front door. Lucas spies me first, and he adjusts his red velvet suit.
“You look dashing today,” I tell him. “You finally going to make a conquest?”
“I have other plans in mind.”
“Oh, really? Care to share those details?” I ask.
His grin is slow. “Why, little sister, do you actually want to take an interest in something potentially demonic?”
My nostrils flare, and I’m sure my eyes are flashing. “Why wouldn’t I be interested in that? I am demonic, aren’t I? Lucifer’s blood runs in my veins, just like they do yours.”
Lucas throws back his head and laughs. “You don’t have to worry. I’m only messing with you. I’m just going to hang out with a few demons.”
“And you have to get dressed up for that?” I ask suspiciously.
He winks. “Just because Lily’s the succubus doesn’t mean that none of the rest of us don’t want to make an impression.”
“Ah. Female demons.”
“Yes. Don’t wait up for me.” He winks and strolls out.
Do I believe him?
Yes, yes, I do.
Logan rushes out after him, his pride causing him to want to steal away the demonesses from Lucas, and Leo’s fighting with Landon over the youngest brother’s greed. Lance is snapping at both of them, and I don’t bother to engage.
Maybe Lucifer truly does want me to be the one to take over for him because I’m not really seeing any signs of his having asked any of the others if they wished to make a deal.
Good. Very good.
Not that I want to take up that offer, of course, but I don’t want anyone to get in my way.
My hellhounds are still being infuriating, the flames on their back higher than ever, almost giving them the appearance of arching their backs like cats do,
and I bring them over to the spot where they tend to play.
“Come on,” I murmur to them. “What’s going on?”
Demonfang whines.
Shadechomp whimpers.
Neither bark, and they still aren’t talking to me.
Wordlessly, I fall to my knees, and I embrace them both. Maybe it’s the valkyrie part of me, the small sliver of angel, but I hate to see them so distressed.
“Are you reacting to me?” I whisper in their ears. “You don’t need to be alarmed or worried or anxious. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Everything will work out. You can be happy. I promise.”
Shadechomp licks my right cheek. Not to be outdone, Demonfang jumps up, places his paws on my shoulders, and licks both sides of my face.
Laughing, I gently push them down and stand. “Ready to head on up to Earth with me?”
They bark eagerly, and I use my magic to teleport us there.
I don’t bother to change my clothes, and for my hellhounds, I just use a glamor like fairies can use so that no one notices that they’re hellhounds. They just appear to be ordinary hounds, although that’s so far from the truth it’s disgusting. Because I think that’s wrong, I don’t temper back their fire because I will not change them, only their appearance. They’re hellhounds, and they’ll always be hellhounds.
We stroll inside a city. We’re not near Bethlehem, not even in the same state. It’s hotter here, and I think I might be along the western coast of the United States somewhere.
My hellhounds are behaving a lot better, and the people who see them don’t seem to mind their presence, but I’m not surprised that no one rushes over to them to pet their heads.
Eventually, I come to a corner. The light’s green, so I can’t cross, and I spy a man leaning against a building, his gaze firmly fixed on the place across the street.
Discreetly, I follow his gaze and realize he’s staring down a bank.
I’m nosy, so very nosy, and I shift over to be closer to him and hold out my hand. “Hi.”
Flustered, the guy actually flips up the collar of his coat. As if that’ll prevent me from seeing his face.
“Dude, you’re wearing a coat when it’s eighty out. You already stick out as it is.”
Daughter of Flames: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (A Girl and Her Hellhounds Book 1) Page 13
