The Devil's Daughter

by Laura Drewry

  Reverend Conroy hesitated, uncertainty making him balk. “Maggie has been ill for quite some time. How do I know this isn’t some kind of trick? How do I know you’re not here for me?”

  “Reverend.” Lucy inhaled a long slow breath. “If I was here for myself, or for anything my father wanted, do you honestly believe I would have made it through that door?”

  He shot a glance toward the door, then back at Lucy. She watched as realization fell over him. It was the truth. The God he served would have struck her down before she made it to the top step.

  “Please, Reverend. They’re after Maggie’s baby.”

  The man’s thin face paled, then flushed. He closed his eyes, steepled his fingers in front of his face and murmured, “Strengthen me, Father. Fill me with your Spirit.” With a short nod at Lucy, he added quietly, “Take me to her.”

  “Do you ride?” Lucy asked, leading him outside. The black horse stood where she’d left it, nibbling the dry weeds at its feet.

  “No,” Reverend Conroy answered, not bothering to close the door behind him. “I have a carriage.”

  “Today you ride.” She led the horse over to the church stairs and nodded. “Climb on.”

  Without a second glance, he handed Lucy his Bible and scrambled up on the animal’s back. The book felt odd in Lucy’s hands; warm and smooth, almost comforting. Yet at the same time, the weight of it terrified her.

  He took the Bible from her, wrapped his hand around her forearm and helped pull her up behind him.

  “Go.”

  o0o

  Jed couldn’t move. Not because that sonuvabitch had done his freezing thing on him, but because he barely had the strength to remain upright, never mind anything else.

  Deacon scanned the ground around him, then took a hesitant step. “Lucille and I are both children of the devil, but her mother is this human woman. So unlike myself, Lucille is half mortal, half demon. So much strength and so much weakness in one being.”

  Jed wanted to fall to the ground; to cover his ears and refuse to listen. But Deacon went on as calmly as if he were discussing the color of the sky.

  “We were raised in Hell alongside the rest of the damned, and considering her obvious shortcomings, I think Lucille managed fairly well.” His evil gaze flicked between Jed and the two women on the ground. “But, being who she is, being what she is, she’s always held on to the unfortunate hope that she would somehow get out. Of course, she knew she’d never be able to live a completely mortal life, but as long as she thought she could get out of Hell, she was going to try.

  Maggie’s cries brought Jed around. She needed his help, but what the hell could he do? He searched around frantically for something – anything – he could use to protect her.

  Nothing.

  Deacon’s voice rattled in Jed’s brain.

  “Our father offered her a deal: Bring him a newborn soul, or be cast down to the darkest corner of Hell where she would never again have a chance at freedom.” He shook his head slowly, almost as though he couldn’t believe what he was saying. “It couldn’t have been an easier job. I already had a deal in the works with Sam, and Sam’s wife had a baby on the way, so it was simply a matter of securing its soul.”

  Jed fought the urge to wretch. If this were true, if Lucy were the devil’s daughter and after the baby’s soul, that meant Maggie wasn’t crazy – she knew what had been going on all the time, but Jed had been too stupid to believe her.

  He’d been so distracted by his lust that he didn’t give Maggie the attention she deserved. The attention Sam would have wanted her to have.

  Sam.

  Jed forced himself to look at Deacon. “What did you do with Sam?”

  Deacon frowned in confusion, but only for a second. “Oh, yes, Sam.” He tipped his head to the side a little, and smiled. “It’s because of him that you’re all here.”

  “No,” Maggie sobbed. “Sam loves me. He’d never do anything to hurt our baby.”“Shhh.” Berta’s worried face gazed down at Maggie who struggled to sit up. “You mustn’t get up.”

  Jed spied a mound of hay in the corner of the stable and moved toward it. “Please, Maggie, listen to Berta.”

  “Don’t talk to me, Jed,” Maggie screamed. “You brought that devil-woman here! You did this! Sam would never have done anything to--”

  “Sam is dead.” Deacon’s emotionless words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity before they settled in Jed’s heart.

  “No!” Maggie’s cry echoed across the sky as she curled her arms over her belly, and turned her back on Deacon. “No.”

  Jed scrambled to arrange the pile of hay in some kind of cushion. Then he ripped his shirt off and laid it on top.

  While Deacon continued to talk and circle them, Jed and Berta moved Lucy over to the hay and tried to make her comfortable.

  “Your Sam was such a worrier. Worried this child would turn out the same as the others and never draw breath, worried his wife wouldn’t survive the birth –-”

  “You sonofabitch.” Jed rose to his feet and lunged toward Deacon who once again vanished and appeared a few feet away.

  “So when I made him an offer,” Deacon went on, as carefree as the wind, “he took it.”

  “What offer?” Jed’s teeth clenched tight, his fists tighter.

  “Nothing difficult,” Deacon answered. “His soul would be mine in exchange for a healthy baby.”

  Jed started. “His soul. . .but. . .” He stopped and inhaled until his lungs threatened to burst. This was too much. Too crazy.

  Too real.

  He watched Deacon move stealthily in circles, calm as could be, while the rage inside Jed grew hotter and deeper.

  “If you already have Sam, you have no claim to this child.”

  “Humans.” Deacon chuckled softly. “You’re so gullible.” He pulled the ferret out of his pocket and stroked it gently. “Remember who you’re dealing with here, Jedidiah. Integrity is not something we’re known for.”

  Jed blinked hard. This whole thing was just wrong.

  “It’s not that difficult to understand.” Deacon rolled his eyes impatiently. “The newborn soul is the purest soul, unaffected by the trials and tribulations of life, and ripe for us to take. When our father sets his sights on one, he does whatever it takes to get it.”

  Jed choked back bile. “But why Maggie? Why Sam?””

  Deacon shrugged. “The opportunity presented itself.” He stopped to watch Maggie fight through an increasingly painful contraction. “Sam started it all with the deal he made. He may have done it with good intentions, but we all know where that road leads.”

  He chuckled at his own joke, then continued. “With his soul at our disposal, we had access to his child and the child’s mother. Lucille assumed the child was hers to take, but, of course, our father saw things differently.”

  Jed fought to make sense of this. “You killed Sam.”

  “I’m many things,” Deacon said, outraged. “But not a murderer. Sam did that himself. I just took his soul.”

  “Just,” Jed choked. “And then you used his disappearance to make Maggie crazy.”

  “Yes.”

  “And Lucy came here thinking she could get the baby’s soul to trade for her own.”

  “Very good, Jedidiah.”

  Jed swallowed hard. “But that’s not what’s happening here.”

  “No.” A patronizing smile lifted Deacon’s lips. “I knew you’d catch on sooner or later.”

  “So--” Jed tried to steady his breathing. “What do you want with us?”

  Deacon cocked his brow slightly and smirked. “You are all simply a means to an end,” he said. “The baby is what’s important.”

  A strange darkness began to build inside Jed. He frowned against the pounding in his head. It was as though someone had stuffed his brain full of dirt and no matter how hard he dug, he couldn’t find his way out.

  Deacon nuzzled his ferret for another moment before tucking it back in his po
cket. Maggie fought her way through another pain; her teeth ground hard together, her right hand fisted around Berta’s skirt.

  “But to get to the baby, Lucy first needed to get to the man protecting it. She needed to make you love her so much you’d be willing to give her anything – including your own soul.” He stopped, hands clasped behind his back. “Of course that meant you would be condemned to Hell in her stead, but that’s a small price to pay to keep herself out.”

  Deacon might as well have reached in and ripped Jed’s heart straight out of his chest. He would have given Lucy his soul if she’d asked him for it. He’d have done anything for her.

  Now. . .

  Reacting on impulse alone, Jed dove at Deacon, but he’d vanished again.

  “You think you can hurt me, human?” Deacon snorted from a few feet away. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you?” He shook his head pitifully. “Think, Jedidiah – she gave you enough clues.”

  The darkness inside Jed grew deeper. What clues? Her name, of course, but what else? He started to walk, then crashed against the tree trunk.

  “Reverend Conroy.”

  “Very good, human,” Deacon sneered. “No being with Satan’s blood would dare stand before a man of the cloth.”

  “Jed.” Berta’s worried voice pulled him back. “We don’t have much time.”

  Maggie’s whole body heaved with uncontrollable sobs and an almost constant pain – the pain that would soon push the baby from her womb. What could he do? How could he possibly protect Maggie from something like Deacon?

  “It’ll be over soon,” Deacon said. “Nothing to do now but wait.”

  “No.” Berta pushed to her feet and stormed toward both men. They each started, found their balance, and stepped out of reach of her jabbing finger.

  “You,” she barked at Deacon, “are nothing but a spineless coward. There is no hope for someone like you.”

  He simply cocked his brow at her and flicked his hand as though to wave away her words.

  “But you.” She turned on Jed and jabbed her finger into the middle of his chest. “You are better than this, Jed. You know what needs to be done.”

  “Berta--”

  “No.” She stopped him with her raised hand. Deacon snickered, but Jed and Berta ignored him. “I’ve listened to you and him-” she indicated Deacon with a nod of her head –“go on about things that can no longer be helped. God bless him, but Sam is dead. We can’t do anything about that.”

  “But--”

  “Lucy came here to win her freedom, and she was bent on doing whatever it took to get it.” Berta stepped closer and jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “But even you can’t be stupid enough not to notice she’s changed.”

  Jed didn’t answer, just stood there, staring down at this half-crazed woman who kept poking him.

  “She could have taken you down long before today.” Her voice rose with each word until she was on tiptoe, yelling in his face. “She could have been done with all of this, and she could have been the one sitting here waiting on that baby.”

  Maggie cried out as another pain ripped through her. Jed and Berta both cast anxious glances back to the stable, even as Berta continued yelling.

  “But she didn’t, did she?”

  “She’s always been weak,” Deacon interjected.

  Berta ignored him, and pushed her glasses up her nose. “It has nothing to do with weakness, Jed. It has to do with strength.”

  He shook his head and made to move away from her, but she gripped his arm with the strength of a woman possessed.

  “She loves you, Jed.” When he shook his head, she nodded harder. “Yes she does. She loves you. And you love her.”

  Deacon let go a loud snort. “Lucille is the devil’s daughter, incapable of love.”

  “No, Deacon.” Berta spun to face him, a bundle of fire yelling loud enough to wake the dead. “You forget who she is. Lucy is my daughter— part human and fully capable of every emotion possible.”

  That shut him up for a second.

  “B-Berta,” Maggie gasped, reaching through the air for something to hold. Berta was at her side in a heartbeat. Jed’s brain spun out of control with things Lucy had said to him. She’d told him her life had been hell, but he never thought she’d meant it literally. Everyone’s life was hell once in a while.

  The rest of his thoughts were drowned out by the sound of pounding hooves. What now?

  Reverend Conroy, clinging desperately to the horse’s mane, raced toward them, his white collar standing out in stark contrast to his black suit.

  And sitting behind him, with her arms wrapped around his waist, was Lucy. Her long black hair blew behind her and her eyes – those deep emerald pools Jed had loved so much – focused on two things: Maggie and Deacon.

  Deacon sucked in a sharp breath, stopped moving, and seemed struck dumb, but not for long. “What have you done, Lucille?” he bellowed, his voice hard and brittle.

  Reverend Conroy jerked the animal to a stop, jumped off, and quickly helped Lucy down. He cast a quick, terrified glance in Deacon’s direction, then skirted around him to where Maggie lay in the hay. The horse reared and shot off back down the road.

  Reverend Conroy knelt beside Maggie, clutched his Bible to his chest and began to make the sign of the cross. “In the name o-of the Father.” His voice shook slightly, but he kept on. “And the Son--”

  “And the Holy Spirit,” Berta’s voice, strong and steady, joined his.

  “Jed.” Lucy hurried toward him, but he backed away. How could he have been so stupid?

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” Deacon cried, his hands flailing. “Do you have any idea what he’s going to do to you?”

  The emphasis on the word ‘he’ made it perfectly clear to Jed who Deacon meant, but Lucy didn’t so much as spare her brother a glance.

  “You have to listen to me,” she pleaded, her eyes already full of unshed tears. “Please.”

  Jed shook his head and tried to back away more, but she continued to match him step for step.

  “I’m sure Deacon has told you everything.” Her voice shook with each word. “I know it’s horrible, and I know you probably hate me, but Deacon doesn’t know what really happened.”

  Jed swallowed as hard as she did.

  “Jed.” She reached for his arm, but he jerked out of the way. “I love you.”

  Deacon stepped right up close to her, until his face was mere inches away. “You brought a preacher!” he yelled. “A preacher!”

  Lucy turned on her brother with such ferocity, it sent a rip of fear through Jed’s veins.

  “Yes!” she yelled back. “I brought a preacher.”

  “But the child. . .”

  An evil little smile tugged at Lucy’s lips. “You lose.”

  “But--”

  Lucy didn’t wait for him to finish. She turned back to Jed, her expression softened, her eyes pleading. “I did it,” she said. “I’m so sorry, but I did. I came here. . .to you. . .to make you love me, and then take your soul. And the baby’s. And yes, I tried my hardest to seduce you. But you --” She hiccupped on a sob, then dashed away more tears. “You were so damned stubborn. You insisted we had to respect each other, to build trust between us before we could. . .”

  Her voice tripped and she stopped only long enough to catch her breath.

  “And somehow, Jed, you did it. You made me respect you. You made me love you.”

  Jed couldn’t think clearly. He pressed his back against the tree, then slid to a crouch. In the back of his mind, the preacher’s voice droned on, first through the Lord’s Prayer, then on through the Psalms. And Berta’s voice matched his word for word.

  “I didn’t make you do anything.” The throbbing pain in his chest reflected back in her eyes.

  “Yes, you did.” She fell to the ground beside him, and gripped his hands in hers. “You made me work, and I don’t just mean around the house. You made me work for your love, for your respect
. And somehow, it turned around on me.”

  He stared at their hands, twined around each other. God, what he wouldn’t give to go back a couple hours. Back to before he waved Berta and Dwight on their way and his whole world caved in on him.

  Back to before his wife said she loved him and then in the next breath told him she was the devil’s daughter.

  He pulled his hands away.

  “Don’t.” How could he have been so stupid? He knew from the first second he’d seen Lucy at the damned auction that she was nothing but trouble.

  Eyes that had once snapped with green flames, now pleaded with him in desperation. Gone was the distrust he’d seen those first days. All that remained was raw emotion, begging him to love her. To forget who she was and that she’d done nothing but lie to him from the start.

  He should have run from that auction and never looked back. He never should have let himself be swayed into taking her for his wife.

  Jed dropped his chin to his chest and ground the heels of his hands against his eyes. Who was he trying to fool? No one had swayed him into marrying Lucy. He’d done it himself. He had taken her as his wife and then fallen head-over-heels-stupid in love with her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Deacon paced like a madman, making quick turns, chewing his thumbnail and muttering to himself. Lucy ignored him and focused completely on Jed. She took his hands back in hers, willing him to feel her love. If she could do that, maybe he wouldn’t hate her quite so much. It would make the eternity she faced in Hell slightly more bearable.

  “I had no idea that what I felt for you – what was scaring me so badly – was love.” She squeezed his hands, milking them for the warmth only he could give her. “It was Berta who made me see it.”

  “If it hadn’t been for Berta…” Lucy’s voice hitched in her throat. “I might never have known that I could love.”

  If only Jed would look at her.

  “I might never have known that what I felt for you, what filled me with so much light, was love.”

  Deacon stopped his pacing and snorted loudly behind her. “Yes,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “She loved you so much, she was willing to condemn you and the rest of your family to an eternity in Hell.”