“I don’t. Everyone else has been ignoring me.”
“That’s a shame.” I give him the once-over. “You don’t’ seem like the kind of guy who should be easily overlooked.”
"Yeah, well, when you put all of your eggs in one basket, and you try and try and try to work your tail off to get a promotion, and then you not only don't get it but your new boss cans you… I'd say I'm feeling very overlooked."
“I don’t understand why you were passed over. Was the other guy a harder worker?”
“No. I worked longer hours.”
“Did he get all of his work done before he left?” I ask.
The guy glares at me. His eyes are blue, his hair dirty blond. His coat is oversized, but he appears well groomed enough. But that glare, his eyes… He's furious. This guy and Lani would get along right now, and when you're as angry as he is, you're bound to take action, and with a coat like that, could he be packing heat?
“You never answered my question,” I remind him. “Did he finish his work before he left each day?”
“Yes, but I worked longer—”
“To do the same amount of work?”
"No." He grabs his hair and tugs on the ends. "You're just like my bosses. They'll find out, though. I had to fix everything he did, but they'll realize they screwed up. They never should've fired me. They'll regret it."
“Where did you work?” I ask and tilt my head toward the bank. “There?”
“What? No. For a corporation, and why are you asking me all of these prying questions?”
“You’re married.”
“Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?” He runs a hand through his hair, the gold of his wedding band glinting in the sunlight. “You think I’m a bum, don’t you?”
“I don’t know you well enough to have an opinion on that either way.”
“Yeah, well, my wife’s going to think I’m a bum. I told her I was a shoo-in for the promotion, and I can’t… It was supposed to be a surprise, but I found out that she’s been planning a vacation for us, a surprise, to celebrate the promotion, but we can’t afford it. We have too much credit card debt as it is, and…”
“You want to rob the bank,” I say slowly.
My hellhounds growl.
The man jerks away from me, holding up his hands defensively. “What? Are you crazy? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What’s your plan? To go in there and shoot up the place?”
“No, I—”
“No?” In a flash, I yank aside his coat to reveal the handle of a gun. “Hmm? What’s this?”
The man jerks away from me and smooths down his coat. “You better get out of here.”
“You want to impress your wife? Why don’t you get a different job? A higher-paying job?”
“You don’t even know…”
“Your skills? I don’t think you’re the kind of guy who should work in a cubicle all day.”
“I… My degree—”
“Do you know how many people don’t use their degrees?”
“I—”
“Come with me,” I say firmly. I drape my arm across his shoulders, and I whistle for the hellhounds to follow me.
“Where are we going?” the man asks desperately. He’s starting to sweat. Gross.
"You need a job that's slower-paced," I say slowly, trying to think quickly. "Do you like to drive?"
“Yes, actually,” he says.
"Ever get a speeding ticket?"
“No.”
“Not one?”
“No!”
“Any parking tickets?”
“One, but that was because I didn’t realize I had to buy a ticket at a kiosk that was down the street from where I parked.”
“How about…” I pause in front of a storefront that has a sign looking for a driver.
“I don’t know,” he mumbles.
“You need the money,” I remind him.
“Yes, but…”
“But what?” I ask.
“If I’m going to start over with a new career…”
“What?”
“I always thought about investing,” he mumbles.
“Investing in what?”
“Real estate. Buying houses cheap, flipping them, and turning around and selling them for a higher price.”
“Sounds like you would need some start-up capital for that.”
The man tries to look over his shoulder toward the bank, but I clear my throat.
“You could flip houses, or you could become a real estate agent, or both. But to be a real estate agent, you’ll need…” I hesitate. I’m not sure what he’ll need.
“A license,” he murmurs. “Maybe… Maybe I could do the truck driving gig for a bit, save up for the vacation and then to buy a house and flip it. The more I learn about real estate, the more it’ll help me with flipping houses, and maybe then I can sell the houses myself, no middle man involved.”
“Hmm. That sounds like it might not be such a bad idea.”
“But Dolores, she’ll freak out.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because she’s pregnant,” he blurts out. “We only just found out. She hasn’t even had an appointment yet. She’s only seven weeks.”
“You think she won’t want you driving so far away,” I muse.
“I don’t know if she’ll like that, but I don’t like the idea of being far away. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I could just crawl back to my former employer and see—”
"They're going to crawl back to you if what you said is true, if your work wasn't slower because of him being faster but because you had to redo his stuff. You weren't lying about that, were you?"
The man grimaces. “I really did have to redo some of it.”
“If he’s incompetent, he’ll be fired.”
“Doesn’t mean they’ll re-hire me.”
“All the more reason for you to figure out something else. An insurance policy.”
“My grandpa used to flip houses,” the man murmurs. “I helped him during the summers throughout high school. He died last year.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I am too. I can’t believe I honestly thought about… I don’t know about the truck driving part, but flipping houses… the real estate angle… maybe that’s the future for me.” He nods a few times. “Thanks, lady. Who are you? My guardian angel or something?”
I snort. “Not hardly, and my help comes with a price.”
His eyes narrow. “I just told you I owe a lot of money—”
I hold out my hand. “Your gun.”
The man’s features twist with shock, and then he sheepishly hands me the gun. “I… Yeah…”
I nod to him and shove the gun inside my duster as the man glances up and down the street and then heads inside to inquire about the truck driving position.
A few minutes later, he looks over his shoulder at the storefront window, and he gives me a thumbs up.
Good. Very good.
Chapter 22
The feeling in my chest… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I feel good. Happy. I helped someone to turn their life around. That man never would’ve been able to pull off a bank robbery. He would’ve been arrested or gotten himself killed, and I set him on a far different path, one that will hopefully provide him both happiness and money in the future.
This is it. This is what I want to do.
I want to help people.
But not because it makes me feel happy.
No.
My father never would have helped this man, not like I had. No, Lucifer would’ve encouraged him to involve a ton more people, to have the bank robbery happen, for it to have been a terrible blaze of glory with as many casualties as possible.
I want to help people because I want to hurt my father. Yes, I do want Hell from him, but that won’t happen. There’s no way for me to be able to get through to Bethlehem, and Lucifer knows it. He deliberately gave me an impossible task because
that’s just who he is. Instead, I’ll go around and trick people into doing good deeds enough to try to get them to go to Heaven instead of Hell.
Nothing would hurt my father more.
My hellhounds and I keep on walking, and we come to a busy intersection. A car is inching up, clearly looking like it wants to cut around another car, but I step out into his path just enough that he can't move. He scowls at me, but I just wink, and, brat that I am, I linger even after his light turns green, so he has to stay put a little longer, but when he drives on by, he rolls down his window to shout, "Nice dogs!"
That wasn’t much of anything, though, so I keep on going. A man is fumbling with his wallet, trying to put bills away, and I spy a homeless man nearby, who isn’t bothering anyone, isn’t asking for money or food or anything at all, and I sic Demonfang on him. The hellhound races up to the guy, causing some of his bills to fall, and I hurry over to help but push a twenty over toward the homeless man as discreetly as I can.
“I’m so sorry. My dogs aren’t normally like this. Here, let me help you.”
“Excuse me,” the homeless man says as I continue to apologize profusely to the man. “Excuse me, but you dropped this.”
The man glances every which way then turns around to see the twenty.
“Thank you,” the man says.
“Oh, don’t you think he deserves something for his honesty?” I ask the man.
The man hesitates from putting the twenty back in his wallet. He reaches for another bill—a one. Seriously?
I cough slightly, and the man huffs a sigh but removes a ten.
“Here,” he murmurs.
The homeless man’s eyes light up. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” the man mutters, and he races away, shoving his wallet into his back pocket.
“You…” The homeless man stares at me.
I tap the side of my nose and hurry away, but it's not easy to find ways for me to force acts of random kindness from one person to another. Honestly, though, just wandering around trying to help random people is slow going. I need some help myself. I don't know many humans, and actually, the one person who might be best to help me isn't even a human herself.
I think it's kind of stupid how I would have to talk to Clarissa face to face while we're in separate cities, so I hunt around supes.com to try to find her phone number, but her presence on there is shockingly low-key.
No problem. I just head on over to the human internet version, and yes, there’s her work number. A bit more digging brings up her home address and her cell.
Honestly, you would think a detective would’ve made sure that’s not the case, but, eh, maybe she thinks she’s safe from all baddies just because no demons can enter Bethlehem.
Still curious about vampires, though.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Clarissa. It’s me. Lydia.”
“You know your way around the internet?”
“Just because I’ve been born and raised in Hell doesn’t mean that I’m ignorant. I know a thing or two or five thousand.”
“Don’t call me again.”
“Wait.” I hold my breath, waiting to hear a dial tone.
“How long are you going to make me wait?”
“Sorry,” I mumble. “You were right and wrong.”
“About…”
“I’m part valkyrie. Just a little bit. Not much at all. Some distant ancestor married a valkyrie, married someone who actually came from Lilith’s line.”
“Lilith was with…”
“Lucifer, yes, but others as well.”
“Can’t say I’m not surprised,” Clarissa mutters. “So you called me to tell me this?”
“Actually, I need your help.”
“No.”
“You didn’t even hear me out,” I gripe.
“Go find a store and buy some cheese,” she says.
“You can wipe that smirk off your face,” I growl. “Look. I want your help because I need to find people who need a push to be good.”
There’s silence on the other end.
“I’m serious,” I ramble. “I want to piss off my father—”
“Because that’s a good idea.”
“It’s an amazing idea,” I say eagerly. “I want to tempt away souls from Hell to Heaven.”
“You do realize that’s like the most non-demonic thing you could possibly do, don’t you?”
“Precisely!” I beam even though she can’t see me.
Demonfang barks his approval. Shadechomp yawns from one mouth and then the other before rubbing against my leg.
“This is…” Clarissa trails off.
“You don’t trust me,” I spit out.
“No. Can you blame me?”
“How can I prove myself? You have me do something, and then, you’ll help me help others. Deal?”
“I don’t make deals with your kind,” she says softly. “Not anymore. I don’t want to push my luck.”
“Yeah, I heard you had a run-in with a leprechaun.”
“One or two,” she mutters.
“That had to have been fun.”
“More like terrifying. Why do humans think they’re short and squat and have pots of gold all over the place? They’re vicious and cruel…”
“They aren’t demonic, though, not as far as I know, but I could be wrong.” I wait a beat. “Can they get into Bethlehem?”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with Bethlehem at all,” she says coolly.
“No, no. Of course not. I’m not trying to find a loophole. I swear. Whatever you want me to do, it won’t be in Bethlehem. Of course not.”
“I can’t just lift the… whatever… and allow you in. That’s not how the deal works.”
“I’m not trying to find a way around it,” I assure her. “Wait, what was the name of that place you mentioned to me? The one where vampires keep coming to?”
“Allentown.”
“Yeah, Allentown. Do you want me to check it out?”
Clarissa lets out a breath. “Fine.”
“All right. I’m heading there to Allentown. I’ll call you once I’m done.”
“Done what exactly?”
“Clearing out any riffraff.”
“You have a lot of experience with that?”
“I have five brothers and six sisters. Dealing with antics and hijinks and all of that is kind of my jam.”
“So you know how to survive having your ass kicked, huh?”
“I might be the youngest, but I don’t tolerate any of that.”
“Hmm.”
“You have any siblings?” I ask.
“You should probably get going,” she says dryly.
“I will. In a minute. I want to know more about you. I shared a detail. Now it’s your turn.”
“We aren’t friends.”
“I don’t have any friends. My siblings don’t count—”
Demonfang flashes his fangs, and Shadechomp looks like he’s ready to chomp me to bits.
“Oh, ho.” Clarissa laughs. “Sounds like your hellhounds don’t like the sound of that.”
“I mean a friend with two legs,” I explain to the hellhounds, but I know that’s not acceptable. I’ll have to make it up to them.
“You want to know a tidbit about me?” Clarissa asks. “Fine. I’m a second-degree black belt in karate. Mixed martial arts.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ve been studying jujitsu for the past few years too.”
“Is that the one where you throw people in all kinds of ways?” I ask. “Because honestly, if you throw people one time, you’ve thrown them a hundred times.”
“Not at all. There are so many ways to throw a person, and you can even cause a person to fall down when you’re between their legs.”
“By kicking them behind their knees.”
“That’s one way. You know how to grapple?”
“What part of I have five b
rothers don’t you understand?” I ask dryly. “Although it’s my sisters you have to watch out for.”
My brothers don’t tend to wrestle all that much anymore, not since they’ve gotten a bit older, but… You’re an only child, aren’t you?”
“My parents are all dead,” she murmurs. My birth parents and my adoptive parents.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I never got to know my mother.”
“I’m even sorrier.”
"Yeah, well, I might not have any living parents and never had any siblings, but I have my husband, and I have friends, and I don't need anything or anyone else."
“Good. I’m glad. That’s… Who can ask for more?”
“Hmm, I’m sure a lot of people would prefer for their parents to be alive,” she says dryly.
"Yes, but I told you I have no friends, that my siblings don't count. How can they? They're as demonic as demonic can be, all of them demons through and through. I'm the only one who isn't, as far as I know. I'm the odd woman out, and that's fine and all, but… You found love?"
“Yes,” she says, her tone softening for once.
“So demons can love.”
"Maybe it's the angel side of me that can love," she whispers, "or maybe demons can too. I don't know, but you aren't just a demon. That's the only reason why I might be willing to entertain the ridiculous notion that you want to steal souls away from your father.”
“Hey, you only live once, right?”
“Yeah, but when you die…”
“There are ways for demons to die permanently,” I say grimly, “and I know my father won’t hesitate to kill me.”
“You’re his daughter,” Clarissa protests.
I just shake my head. That hasn’t stopped him before.
“Allentown. On it.” And I hang up before we can bond anymore because something tells me that any friends I dare to make, my father will hurt just to punish me.
Because this act of mine, what I’m trying to do, my attempt to weaken him, is going to make my father far more irate than ever before. He’s going to feel betrayed, and even Lucifer hates betrayers.
He’s going to hate me one day.
Honestly, if Lucifer hates you, you have to be doing something right, yes?
Chapter 23
Allentown is a huge city. Huge. For the most part, the people don’t seem to be half bad. A lot of them offer to give me a ride, and at first, I decline, decline, decline. They don’t even mind that I have my hellhounds with me. Granted, they think Demonfang and Shadechomp are only dogs, but still. They’re two dogs. Not fully grown yet, but in a few years, they will be.
Daughter of Flames: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (A Girl and Her Hellhounds Book 1) Page 14
