Hellborn

by Lisa Manifold

  “Well?” Doc said. “What does she suggest?”

  “To kill a demon, the talents of those in the mortal world will not work. I have spoken with my acquaintance in the realms of Hell and I know this to be true. He might not be completely honest—”

  “She was still messing about with demons? I am so not feeling all that sorry for her!” Deirdre exclaimed, tossing down the diary she was reading. “Didn’t she learn anything? I mean she had to send two innocent women to their deaths because of her interaction with Ashlar!”

  “Let me finish,” I said. She had a spy.” That was interesting to me, and I read ahead for a moment. “He might not be completely honest, but he loathes Ashlar, and would be pleased to see him gone. He has told me, and I have verified this with more than one witch, as well as several necromancers, that I must find an angelic sword. I was not aware there were such things, and I have been told they are rare, and well-hidden. So I must find one. Outside of that, there is only one other way. I shall have to allow him to take my soul. While I could agree to that, I cannot do that to my darling Desdemona. I am so sorry, my sweet girl, that I ever agreed to such a thing for you. It was not right of me to gamble with your life.” I stopped again. “She wasn’t completely batshit crazy.”

  “Yeah, well, hindsight is really a lovely thing. The deed was done by then.” Deirdre looked away in disgust.

  “There is no choice. I must find the sword. As I stared out the window today, I see that Little Desi has returned from her walk with Jack Fitzgerald. He is a sweet boy, for all that he thinks he will make his fortune in mining. I expect that they will be engaged soon.”

  “That’s not a name we’ve heard before,” Daniella said. “I wonder if that’s the mystery baby daddy.”

  “You are awfully cavalier about your sire,” Doc said. He sounded very stiff.

  “We didn’t know our dad. It was always Meema and Granny. Meema was married for a while, to Nicholas Burns, but he wasn’t around long. We always had them, and then it was Meema. And you,” Deirdre added.

  Doc didn’t say anything. It’s hard at times to decipher the nuances of a ghost’s expression. I decided to table this particular conversational avenue and get back to the matter at hand. “We need to find an angel sword. That’s it, then? Nothing else? Nothing else is going to kill the demons?”

  “We need to figure out who Granny’s source was,” Daniella said. “Maybe he’d like another shot at offing Ashlar.”

  “I have heard of angel’s swords, but I’ve never seen one,” said Zane.

  I was starting to like him. He was quiet, thoughtful, he wasn’t overly pushy, and he seemed to say things that were logical and made sense. No crazy or histrionics. The Nightingales needed no help in that department. “I am going to assume they’re not just lying around waiting for someone to need one, are they? They’re probably locked up tight somewhere with a thousand gross things guarding them.”

  “That sounds about right.” Zane smiled.

  “Well, we are going to need to beat the odds, beat the bushes, and shake one free,” I said. “Because I am not going back to Hell. I’m not letting him take either of you,” I met the eyes of both my sisters. “And speaking of which, we need to call Deana.”

  “Which one?” Deirdre asked.

  “The oldest. Our niece.”

  “Who is Deana?” Zane asked.

  “Our other sister. Somehow, Meema managed to have four live babies. I’m wondering if Granny didn’t have something to do with that, too, since her fingers seemed to be in every pie around here. But Deana got totally pissed about all the wacky magic, and the rules—”

  “What are the rules?” he interrupted.

  “Use your magic for good. Do no harm to the innocent. Do not work with those who are evil. Protect Deadwood, no exceptions.” Deirdre, Daniella, and I chorused together.

  Zane smiled. As I watched him, I realized I hadn’t really seen his smile before. Well, since we’d met, there hadn’t been a lot to smile about. He’d smiled a little, a few times. But as he smiled now, I felt myself drawn to his attractiveness. As though he knew what I was thinking his eyes flickered toward me. The intensity of his gaze rippled through me, and I had to loOkay away.

  This was neither the time nor the place. And certainly not with a necromancer, no matter how good looking. “So. Angel sword. Where exactly do we find one?”

  No one answered me.

  “Come on. That’s what we have to do. We can’t let this douchebag run all over us, and harass us until we beg him to drag us off to his stinky lair. That’s just not going to work for me. We have to find this spy friend of Granny’s.” I looked around the table.

  “I wonder if the demon has seen an angel sword,” Zane mused. He sounded like he was thinking out loud more than anything else.

  “You can ask him when he wakes up, as long as you ask nicely.”

  Deirdre pushed the diary she’d been reading away from her, and her chair away from the table. “I’m done with this. We know the deal. Granny was lovesick and stupid. Sorry, Doc, but she was. I don’t care how nicely you rubbed her bunions, or whatever—and the demon had all kinds of add on shit that he oopsed on telling Granny. So he cheated her. Then she cheated him. Since he’s the last one standing, he’s got his hand out, and going to be a pain in our ass. What else do we need to know right now?”

  Everyone stared. Then I started to laugh. “You’re right, Dee. One hundred percent right. We know what happened. We know he’s a stinky douche—”

  “You’re really hung up on this stinky thing,” Zane said, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

  “If you’d smelled him in Hell, you’d understand that I am not nearly hung up enough. Did you get a whiff of Beeval? He’s adorable, but he needs a bath in the worst way.”

  “Yeah, can we talk about the demon?” Daniella put down her diary. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, because he did save your life, but are you really serious about letting him stay here?”

  “I am. He did save me. And he was miserable. He doesn’t belong there.”

  “Demons do, in fact, come from Hell, correct?” Doc asked.

  “Yes,” Deirdre said. “That’s their place in the world.”

  “Well, that’s not Beeval’s place! He’s staying.” I glared at my sisters.

  Then Daniella said, “He better not go near Evil. That’s all I’m saying. And you better talk to him. Because I’m not keeping Evil locked in the back of the house. And you’re cleaning up the extra poop,” she added.

  “That’s fine. I know it’s weird, and goes against everything that we know, but all this”—I indicated the diaries—“shows us that we’re not in the full know. So maybe we need to be a little more flexible?”

  Deirdre sighed. “Fine. Have your big-nosed little demon.”

  “His nose is cute.”

  “Whatever. He’s your deal.”

  I smiled. For the first time in forever, we weren’t fighting. No dishes were thrown. I’d give almost anything to have Meema throw a dish at me again, but since that wasn’t in the cards, I’d take the peace my sisters and I had tacitly agreed to. “I hate to be the specter at the feast, here, but we need to call the Deanas.”

  “Crap. I forgot about them.” Daniella had a frown on her face. “What are we going to tell them?”

  “The truth. Don’t you think it’s about time?” I asked.

  “Yes, but they aren’t into our way of life, remember? And do we really want to worry them?”

  “They’re Nightingales, right?”

  “Of course,” Deirdre said.

  “Then they are in danger, too. And they have a right to know. You know, we could invite them here.”

  “To get them killed?”

  “To let them be a part of it. To be here for the funeral, too.”

  “Who would want to be a part if this if they could avoid it?” Doc asked.

  “You do not understand tact in the moment, do you?” I replied.

 
“I am asking a reasonable question. You may give me my head back now.”

  “Then you have to make the call,” Daniella said. “I’m never sure what to say. I know why Deana said she left, and I feel like she had to tell her daughter and granddaughters.”

  “Which is fine. Meema was never mad at her.”

  Both of my sisters sighed. “You’re right,” Deirdre said. “And she could have been the angriest. All right. Go call her. We’ll listen and criticize you when you’re done.”

  I laughed again. “There’s my sister I know and annoy. I’m ready for a break from these anyway.” Getting up, I pulled out my cell phone and went out back to call my niece.

  She answered on the second ring. “Aunt Desi? How are you?”

  “I’m all right, Deana, but I’m not calling with the best of news.”

  Her voice changed. “Do you ever?”

  Oh, Deana had indeed been telling stories. Those three words said it all.

  “Meema has passed away.”

  There was silence, and then she caught her breath. She didn’t say anything and it dawned on me that she was crying.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “When is the funeral?”

  “Tomorrow. It’s sudden, but we—”

  “We’ll be there,” she said, and she hung up.

  I walked back into the kitchen.

  “That was quick. Well?” Daniella said.

  “Not quite cold as ice, but definitely icy. They’ll be here for the funeral tomorrow.”

  “Shit. You sure about this? I’m really nervous,” Daniella stated. “They’re not prepared for what could be coming.”

  “We’ll spell the entire town,” I exclaimed. “If all four of us, yes, you, too, Zane, cast a protection spell, along with a repelling and a do no harm mixed in there, it will make it really difficult for him to drop by.” There was no need to specify which ‘him’ I referred to.

  “That kind of spell is going to take some work,” Zane said.

  “And a lot of energy,” Deirdre said. “We might need to make some boosters.”

  “What are boosters?” Asked Zane.

  “Nightingale secrets,” I said before either of my sisters just handed him our spells. Just because he was nice, and smart, and attractive, and laughed appealingly didn’t mean he got our family secrets.

  He nodded. He didn’t look offended, but what did I know? The last time I’d seriously looked at a man, I’d been all of twenty-nine. Really twenty-nine, not the many-generations-later twenty-nine I’d been through a couple of times.

  Meema had sat us all down, before our twenty-first birthday and explained that we’d never die, as long as we lived here. We didn’t know it then, but that was when Deana had decided to leave. She knew even then she didn’t want immortality. She wanted more than Deadwood. I respected it, but I didn’t understand it.

  Anyway, Meema also told us we needed to be careful with men. That we wouldn’t age, not like humans, and not like our men. That eventually our men, even if they were not the most observant, would notice that we weren’t aging. So we needed to consider how we wanted to manage our romantic lives.

  It was a pretty shitty conversation when all you think about is men.

  A month later, Deana left, and wrote us from Los Angeles. She said she loved us all, but she wanted more.

  I was angry at her for leaving. At the time, it had felt like she was turning her back on her responsibility to Deadwood. But even before she left, she told me that she hadn’t felt obligated to take on something just because Granny and Meema did it.

  Which meant who knew what she’d told her daughters and granddaughters? Then I shrugged my shoulders. The Deanas would need to get their shit together, or sit down and shut up. It was that simple. If they’d come here to judge, that would be their crap to manage.

  I—we—had more than enough to manage without all sorts of family drama. Which included a funeral none of us had ever expected tomorrow.

  Chapter Nine

  After the phone call to the Deanas, we’d all stepped away from the diaries. Deirdre and Daniella, rising almost as one, got up.

  “I’m going to shower, pick out something to wear, and going to bed,” Daniella said.

  “Make that two,” Deirdre added.

  “That’s my cue to leave,” Zane said.

  “You’re welcome back tomorrow,” I said before I was aware of it. My face warmed, and I could see Deirdre and Daniella watching me. I didn’t like that. The questions would be coming.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” he said.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Gee, we’re not out for blood with the necromancer neighbor now?” Deirdre asked, teasing me.

  “No. I have decided you don’t need to die immediately.” I smiled at Zane.

  His expression lightened. “Well, that’s a relief. I have a roast in the oven.”

  A moment of silence greeted his statement, and then everyone, even Doc, started to laugh.

  “So I’ll go and tend to it,” Zane finished.

  “You might need to come cook for us,” Daniella said. “Meema was the cook. None of us are all that good.”

  “How old are you three?” Zane asked. “And you don’t cook?”

  “Meema didn’t want us in her kitchen.” I shrugged. “You’re right, though—we’re going to need to learn to feed ourselves.”

  “And the demon,” Deirdre muttered. “Don’t forget him.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what he eats. Shit. That’s another thing to figure out. Anyway, come back tomorrow around eight. We have to leave after then. You’re welcome to sit with us.”

  “I’m not family.” Zane sounded stiff.

  “You tried to save her,” I countered. “You can sit with family.”

  He nodded, and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. There was silence after he left, and then Daniella took two steps to the window, peering out.

  “Okay, he’s gone. It’s time to talk about this, Desi.”

  “Talk about what?” I crossed my arms.

  “You like him,” Deirdre said, her lips turned up in a smile. “Don’t try to beat around the bush. You like him.”

  “What if I do?” I was too tired to argue.

  “I think it would be great. Just think, you could date without having to worry about exposing yourself. Well, not in the bad ways, anyway.” Daniella grinned.

  “You do seem fond of him for all your words,” Doc observed.

  “He’s not your standard necromancer. I’m glad I didn’t kill him. I wouldn’t have Beeval,” I added.

  “I’m not sure that’s a plus,” Deirdre said.

  “He doesn’t seem all that bad,” Doc said.

  “Yeah, until he takes a bite out of Evil, and I blast him,” Daniella said.

  “I’ll keep them away from each other,” I said. One more thing to worry over.

  Doc drifted closer. “You look tired. You all do. Why don’t you go to bed, and I’ll wake you if anything needs to be handled. Demon, chicken, other demon—don’t worry, girls. I’ll wake you.”

  As one, we nodded, and scattered to go to our rooms. Doc was right. I was tired. And I was sure Deirdre and Daniella were too. They didn’t have the distraction of the field trip to Hell, but this had been a rough week.

  I lingered in the kitchen. “Thank you,” I said to Doc. “We need this.”

  “I know, darlin’. I know. Get some sleep. But I’m waking you up if the little demon gets up.”

  “You know, eventually everyone will appreciate that I let him stay.” I crossed my arms.

  Doc chuckled. “Perhaps. Not at the moment.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I waved a hand.

  “Go to bed, Desdemona. You need your sleep.”

  I stared at him, and then nodded. “All right. Wake me—”

  “If I need to. I can manage it.” He rolled his eyes.

  I left then. There was no need for anything further, and at the men
tion of bed, my entire body seemed to droop. I slid off my shoes and pants and got into bed. Before I even hit the pillow, I was asleep.

  I woke to shouting downstairs. A glance at the window told me it was dark outside, so I’d slept for a couple of hours. Holy hell. I didn’t know what it was, but I fell out of bed and went running, pulling up spells in my head, feeling the magic tingle not only in my fingers, but my entire upper body.

  I burst into the kitchen, hands out in front of me, and saw my sisters laughing.

  “What in the name of blazes is going on here?” I shouted. “I thought we were under attack!”

  Both of them, and Doc, I noticed, stared at me.

  “Where are your pants?” Daniella asked.

  I looked down. “Oh, shit,” I said. “I didn’t stop to think. I heard yelling, and I came running.”

  “You are really jumpy,” Deirdre said.

  “Had you been to Hell, you might understand why.”

  “I would have woken you had things gone awry,” Doc chided.

  “What is going on, since none of you can keep quiet?” I felt cross.

  Daniella laughed. “I hate to admit when you’re right, Desi, but you are right.” She sighed. “Hey! Beeval! Where’d you guys go?”

  I heard a response that had to be Beeval but I couldn’t make it out. “Did he get out of the cupboard by himself?”

  Doc nodded. “He did, and he came down here. I directed him to the fridge, and he managed without making a mess.”

  “Which is when Evil put in an appearance,” Deirdre added.

  “Oh, crap.” Well, they hadn’t killed him, and no one was yelling at me. So maybe Beeval hadn’t eaten—

  Beeval came in with Evil. Wearing Evil. On his head. Like a hat.

  My mouth fell open. Daniella and Deirdre watched me, and laughed at my expression.

  “They appear to have formed an understanding,” Doc drawled.

  Beeval stopped next to me, and leaned against my leg. “Desimo, feel better.”

  “You feel better?”

  He looked up at me, and the fear and soul-crushing sadness I’d seen in his eyes wasn’t as prominent. Some of that could possibly be attributed to the chicken on his head, but I liked to think Evil was only part of it.