Hellborn

by Lisa Manifold

  “I was,” I said. “He still scares me. He was going to hurt me badly, and he meant it.” It would take a long time for me to stop seeing Ashlar’s face looming over me, mocking and leering, smelling like a garbage dump.

  “You’re safe now,” Daniella said, coming to hug me. Deirdre joined her. We stood together, holding on to one another. I felt the three of our nieces join us, and we all hugged. I knew what had happened, but it wasn’t properly computing in my brain. I was shaking, still ready to attack, and I knew that I needed to get inside, and find a way to come down.

  “We need to remove the wards,” Deirdre said. “You up for it?” She looked at me.

  “Yes,” I said. I needed this.

  Deirdre, Daniella and I stood shoulder to shoulder, throwing up our hands to release the wards that surrounded not only our home but the town itself. Personally, I was all for leaving wards up at all times, but Meema had always said no, you didn’t know what others were up to, and sometimes it wasn’t as bad as we thought.

  I was the most suspicious one of us. There was no denying that. Even more so after everything that had happened—oh, goddess. Just this week.

  “I think I need to sleep for a month,” I said.

  “We need to talk to Granny,” Deirdre said, glancing over to where Granny stood.

  “Where’s Doc?” I asked.

  Granny turned, drifting a little. She didn’t seem to have as much control over her ghost self as Doc did.

  “He didn’t want to watch this,” she said, her expression sad. “He said that what he saw before when you and Desi disappeared was too difficult.”

  Deirdre opened her mouth but I laid a hand on her arm before she could speak. Doc seeing what had happened had changed over one hundred years of anger and resentment for him. It must have been really traumatic, and if he was going to be here, even if he was going to leave, I didn’t want to fight with him. I wanted things right, no matter what happened.

  “Fair enough,” I said. “Let’s get inside. The neighbors don’t need to see you,” I added. “They think we’re weird enough as it is.”

  “Better than being husband stealers and homewreckers,” Granny said, drifting into the house.

  “Yeah, not so much on the husband stealing anymore,” Daniella said. “Really, who wants anyone here?”

  I glanced at Zane as she said that. He was also sneaking a side eye look at me, and we both looked away as fast as we could. I could feel my heart beat faster as heat flooded my cheeks.

  Why did the only guy I’d found remotely attractive in decades have to be a necromancer? I was going through all the reasons in my head why this wasn’t a good idea when Granny said, “Girls, there are things we need to speak of—”

  “You think?” Deidre asked.

  “I do,” Granny said in the same tone Deirdre had used.

  “I can’t get over the ghosts being just like anyone else,” DeAnna said from behind me.

  “But I think that you—all of you—need sleep, and to rest before Doc and I speak with you.”

  “Are you getting married?” Deana asked, a laugh escaping from her.

  “Bite your tongue, missy,” Granny snapped. “This is far more important than romance,” she added.

  “Didn’t you do a deal with a demon for romance? Or did I miss something?” Dee asked.

  “You missed something,” Granny said. “And I have been talking with Doc and he has persuaded me that there should be no more secrets. That I need to tell you all of my truth, all the things that have led us here.”

  “That would be a good thing, Granny. I have to ask, though—did Meema know?”

  “No.” Granny shook her head. “No one knew. Doc said you read my diaries?” Her face was hopeful, which was weird.

  “Not all of them,” Daniella said. “We were kind of in a time crunch.”

  Granny nodded. “Well, we’ll need the diaries. But I am not kidding—you all need to go to sleep. You need to rest.”

  “So we don’t slap the shit out of you when you tell us the real deal?” Deirdre asked.

  “Hold your judgement,” Granny said.

  Doc appeared from the ceiling. “You all made it and are immediately venturing into the Nightingale family tradition of heated discussion?” He was smiling as he spoke.

  “We’re not at the heated part yet,” I said. “But it’s getting hot fast.”

  “I am pleased that you are all still here, and alive. I cannot express how relieved I am. But your grandmother is right. You do need rest.”

  “We’re going to want to kill her, aren’t we?” I asked Doc.

  “I’m right here,” Granny flared.

  Doc sighed. “No, but you will not be happy. It’s not a happy sort of tale. But you do need to hear it, and I think it will explain everything.”

  “How come the ghosts know everything?” Dee wondered.

  “Because we can go anywhere— well, most of us can,” Granny said, looking at Doc with a decidedly guilty expression. “We see a great deal.”

  “It’s nice that you’ve decided to share. I’d like to hear it now,” Deirdre said.

  “So would I,” I said in unison with Daniella, Dee, DeAnna, and Deana.

  “You too?” Doc asked of Zane.

  “I can’t walk away from this now,” Zane said.

  Granny and Doc exchanged a glance, and then it was Granny’s turn to sigh. “You girls sure you don’t want to sleep?”

  “No,” all six of us—seven, if you counted Zane--said.

  “Then sit down.”

  Everyone wandered into the kitchen, taking seats around the island, and bringing over chairs from the table. Dee moved to the fridge, and pulled out iced tea, and some cheese, and then some crackers and fruit. I was too tired, too worn, and too worried about what we were about to hear.

  Deana and Dee poured glasses for everyone. It was funny that they were the ones doing this, in our house, but I liked it. They were family.

  When everyone had a glass, Granny began. “When I moved here, I was infatuated with everything. Oh, you girls didn’t know what it was like. It was a shadow of itself by the time you four were born. But Deadwood was alive, and for twenty-four hours a day, this town lived. It was intoxicating.”

  “Yeah, how did that happen?” Daniella asked. “How was it that Meema had four kids at the same time and lived?”

  “Hold that question, Daniella. You’ll understand in a moment.”

  Daniella nodded, crossing her arms. She was the most even-tempered of the three of us, but she was showing signs of anger, which was not good for the person on the receiving end. In this case, that would be Granny.

  “I met Doc, and I was even more infatuated. We had so much fun! And then he told me that he was returning to Cheyenne. I loved him, at that time.” She glanced at Doc, and he smiled.

  It wasn’t the smile of lovers; it was the smile of two people who had a history, and it was a long history that had found some peace. It was more friendly than anything else.

  “My mother had taught me, before she died, some herbal lore, some ability to help using the plants she’d been taught by her grandmother. It wasn’t much,” Granny added. “I was only fourteen when she died. I turned fifteen right after her death. My father had died, or run off some years before, and my mother got cholera and died and left me an orphan. The church”—the corner of her mouth lifted in a small sneering twist—“that she’d attended took me in. The pastor was so nice, he and his wife were so pleased to be able to help me. I lived with them for a year. I’d just turned sixteen when the pastor attempted to visit me at night, after the household had gone to bed. It was my time to repay his kindness, he told me.” She stopped, her eyes going faraway, and her eyes narrowed as the anger from all those years ago washed over her. “I told him that I was scared, and needed to think about it—and he told me to ready myself for him the next night. I snuck out of the house that night, taking all my clothing, and some of the good silver as well. What?” She
looked at us. “As a woman with no money, I would have been nothing more than a camp girl somewhere. I knew that, even then. And I feel no shame from stealing from a would-be rapist.” Granny sniffed.

  “I can’t believe you stole something,” I said.

  “Well, you get desperate. I’d already lived as a girl orphan for the past year. People’s charity only goes so far, and they tend to feel you owe far more than you do. Like the pastor,” Granny added.

  “Well, I was able to hike through the woods, gathering herbs and staying off the roads. I needed to get far away before I tried to sell my silver. I had to get close to Kansas, because I couldn’t sell it anywhere in the western part of Missouri.” She looked down.

  But she continued, “I sold it for a good price, and I was able to cobble together a ticket that got me to Rapid City. I wanted to go as far as I could from Missouri, and everyone was talking about Deadwood. This was before Custer,” she added. “I got a stagecoach from Rapid City to Deadwood, and I was young, pert, and needed a job. I lied, and told the manager at the Bella Union that I was 18 and orphaned. That no one was trying to find me. He was fine with that, and I became a dancing girl. Some of the girls were more, of course, but I wasn’t interested. Not until I met Doc.” She smiled at Doc.

  He returned the smile. “In my brief venture as a faro dealer, I made a realization despite the money to be made. It was far too cold for me to ever have been here for long, but once I met Desi, she helped me forget the cold for a spell.”

  I made a face. “That is definitely some history we do not need.”

  “Stop your filthy mind,” Granny said. “We had fun, and he was the first person who wasn’t trying to get something over on me. It was a nice change. He taught me cards when he realized I wasn’t foolish, or a vapid woman. I am so grateful, because when Doc left, I was able to support myself. But before that, when Doc told me he was leaving.” Granny pulled her story back on track. “I offered to help him. My mother had worked with people with consumption. I could have kept him living longer, although I couldn’t have cured him.”

  “Which was news to me,” Doc interjected. “I thought you had made the bargain when you made that offer.”

  Granny shook her head. “I did not. I wish I had, but that was not what drove me to make the bargain with Ashlar.”

  “What made you do that?” I asked. I forced myself to keep myself on track with her story. I had so many questions I wanted to ask, but I felt like there was something coming. Even though we’d just defeated Ashlar, and didn’t have to use the angel sword, and now had that as an asset, although I wasn’t sure what we’d use it for, I felt there was more. And that it was not going to be good news.

  “Before I tell you, I have to tell you that I tried to tell you before. When I came back, I brought myself back. And I ran into Deana first, and blurted this all out. She left, after calling me awful names. Which I deserved. But I didn’t want to have you three leave your mother. She was already so upset about Deana. It’s all due to this.” She pulled a ghost letter from inside her blouse. Granny looked so upset, and nervous, and like she was about to cry.

  I wanted badly to know how it was possible for a ghost to be hanging onto a letter. See? I needed to focus.

  Granny continued. “One more thing—” She held up a hand. “Wait. What is your full name?” she asked the Deanas.

  “Why?” Dee asked.

  “Humor me, please,” Granny said.

  “I am Deana,” Dee said. “But I chose to go by Dee. My daughter is also Deana. I don’t know why we insisted on naming ourselves after Gram, but we did.”

  “I’m DeAnna, but that’s not my real name,” DeAnna said.

  “What is it?” Granny’s face was frightened as she asked.

  “Desdemona,” DeAnna said. “Mom said she didn’t know why she named me that—she loved you very much,” she said to me, “but she wasn’t sure what compelled her to do it. Afterwards, I asked her if I could change it up a little, because no one could ever spell my name.” She rolled her eyes. “I legally changed it when I was eighteen.”

  “No, they never can,” I said.

  “Even after she knew,” Granny said. “How could she? After she knew!”

  “All right, stop with the damn drama,” Daniella said. “Tell us what this is all about.”

  Granny sighed, and loOked at Doc. He nodded, giving her encouragement.

  “I made the deal for immortality because right after your mother was born, I was informed I, and she, and anyone else of our name was cursed.”

  “Cursed how?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t think we needed to know this before now?”

  “Are we cursed even if we didn’t grow up here?”

  We all had questions that flew at her, and Granny held up her hands in a ‘Stop’ motion. “One question at a time. I cannot answer all at once. To begin with, I went into the bargain hoping to break the curse on your mother and me. When I began to worry the curse would affect you girls, I came back to see your mother. That’s when I saw Deana.” Granny stopped.

  Even as a ghost, she was overcome by emotion.

  “What was the curse?” Zane asked.

  She waved the letter a little. “That all the Desdemonas have to die.”

  Epilogue

  Ashlar paced his quarters, his hooves clacking on the stone floor. Shadows flickered from torches on the wall. He couldn’t sit still; couldn’t contain himself. He’d been humiliated.

  Bad enough that it was at the hand of humans. Worse that the humans used Sojin to deliver the shame.

  Word of his disgrace had traveled far and wide throughout the realms of Hell. He was all but ruined. No one would work with him. His power, his word, his reputation—it was near to gone. The demons who worked for him were restless, teetering on mutiny. This situation could not go on.

  He would need to do something. He had to gain his position back, or he would be no better than the little rat that had run to the humans. He might as well run to the humans himself and beg for mercy and shelter.

  That would never happen. He would not falter. This merely required a new plan, one that would show even when he was driven down, he did not fall.

  “Get in here!” he bellowed.

  A small demon scuttled in, head down. “Master?”

  “Find me Madigan,” Ashlar said.

  The demon hesitated. “Madigan, master?”

  “Yes. Hurry,” he added with a snarl. What was next? The minion demons refusing to do as they were told?

  That would not happen.

  Madigan, for all his faults and mistakes would be perfect for what he had in mind.

  In a longer amount of time than was acceptable, Madigan strolled in. Madigan was a half-human, half-demon breed, and as such, he could shift from his demon form to human form. He was seen as lesser due to his half-human lineage, but for this, he would be perfect.

  “How are ya, Ashlar? Little lonely?”

  “Your attitude does not help you,” Ashlar said.

  “LoOkay, I’m no saint.” Madigan grinned at the jOkaye. “But my boss didn’t haul my ashes in front of humans.”

  Ashlar waited, and then said, “Are you finished?”

  Madigan tapped his chin. “Yeah, I think I am.”

  “Good. I have an assignment for you.”

  “What do I get?” Madigan asked. “You’re not exactly good currency right now. You could bail on me, leave me high and dry.”

  “Are you questioning me?” Ashlar asked, even though he knew why Madigan asked. Madigan wasn’t the sort you called in for an above-board job. He was a behind the scenes, keeping things quiet kind of demon.

  “Yeah, I am. It’s a fair question. You know it, I know it, all of Hell knows it.”

  Ashlar reined in his temper. He didn’t tolerate disrespect, but there was something to be said for Madigan’s straightforward questions. It was one of the reasons he’d kept the half-demon around all
these years.

  “You will not be left high and dry,”

  “But?” Madigan asked with one raised brow.

  “This must be kept quiet.”

  “I figured. You’re going after them, aren’t you?”

  “Why should I not?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Madigan tapped his chin, looking up at the ceiling. “Because your boss told you to step off and sit down? I don’t like rules, but Sojin is nothing to mess with.”

  “I am breaking no rules. I want you to look in on the youngest human that was there. A woman named Deana Holliday.”

  “Isn’t she one of the family you were told to leave alone?”

  “I am doing nothing. You are doing nothing. I want you to watch her, see what she is doing. She is several generations removed from the original Desdemona, but she has the spark of the other witches in the family.”

  Madigan sighed. “You know, boss, you might want to let this one go.”

  No one else could speak to him that way. Ashlar knew that Madigan was being honest, with no agenda at hand. That was rare, in Hell. “I can no longer seek retribution from the Desdemonas. Deana Holliday is not a Desdemona.”

  Madigan said, “Boss—”

  “Enough. I have heard your concerns. But I am offering you an assignment. Will you take it or no?”

  Madigan put his hands in his pockets and loOkayed up, thinking. “Yeah. I’ll do it. You leave me solo, and I’ll move around and talk more than I usually do.”

  “Understood.”

  “And it will cost you.”

  “Very well.”

  “Give me the details,” Madigan said.

  Ashlar walked to the other side of the room, willing the memories that he had stored to come forth.

  No human had ever bested him, and he would not allow that to change. Not now. Not ever.

  He shared the thoughts with Madigan. The other demon considered them quietly.

  “Well?” Ashlar struggled to contain his impatience.

  “I’ll do it,” Madigan said. “But if I’m found out, it’s on you.”