The Lost Daughter: Hells Hallow Book One

by Bo Reid

  “Okay,” I sigh, bending over to pick up my new cat. We walk over to the couch, and I lay down, setting Hex on my chest.

  “Just for a little while, though,” I mumble as I fight back another yawn.

  “Yes, Miss. Morass,” he calls.

  “What’s your name?” I manage to ask as my eyes drift closed while Hex purrs against my chest.

  “Johnathan,” he calls, and I feel a slight breeze from his wings as he flies down from the rafters to watch over my work.

  I hear a cat meowing, and feel tiny paws on my chest. As my eyes blink open, I see Hex standing on top of me and practically yelling in my face.

  “Time to wake up, Miss. Morass,” I hear a deep voice call, and when I look up, the bat from last night is sitting on the back of the couch next to me.

  “My potion!” I yell and shoot up off the couch, managing to catch poor Hex before she goes flying through the air.

  “Is just about ready for you,” Johnathan calls as he sits next to the cauldron.

  “Oh, thank Hell,” I sigh, and if crows and bats could laugh, these two would be doing so right now.

  “What’s your name?” I ask the bat as I walk into the potions room to grab my final ingredients.

  “Daniel,” he responds.

  “Very nice names,” I tell them with a firm nod, and they both respond with a slight bow.

  I very carefully sprinkle in the unicorn horn dust and watch the red liquid turn a deep shade of purple; it’s so dark it’s almost black and reminds me of my hair. It was a bit lighter when I was little. Still, the older I got, the darker it got, and when I turned eighteen, and my final round of dark powers emerged — the ones I got when my line stripped themselves of their abilities to give to me — my hair and eyes both turned a dark shade of purple. My lightning and fire even match the shade when I get a little worked up. Otherwise, they tend to be hues of blue and white, and hotter than Hell itself.

  “They’re meeting tonight,” Johnathan says at my side, and I smirk.

  “Do you know what time?” I ask.

  “The witching hour, of course,” he replies.

  “Of course, when they’re all at their strongest… and so am I,” I whisper and can’t be bothered to fight the laugh that breaks from my chest.

  “Who… Whoo… Whooo…” I hear the sound of an owl hooting outside my window.

  I walk over and see nothing but a pair of glowing eyes in the treeline.

  “Are you here to help as well?” I call, crossing my arms over my chest.

  He spreads his wings and swoops down from the tree, flying over and perching on my window box — I should plant something in these — he bows his head, spreading his wings out wide.

  “Da vocum tibi,” I whisper to him, he shakes his head, and when he opens his beak instead of a hoot, I’m met with a light, feminine voice.

  “A pleasure to once again serve a Morass,” she tells me, and I smile.

  “It will be nice to have another female around here,” I tell her, “What is your name?” I ask.

  “Mel; how may I be of service?”

  “Can you track the headmen before their meeting?” I ask her.

  “Of course.”

  “You all should go. If there are others you can trust, ask them as well. We will need all the help we can get tonight,” I tell them. They each nod before taking off in flight out the window and disappearing into the darkened sky.

  Hex paws at the caldron and meows, bringing my attention back to the task at hand, “yes, boss,” I tell her with a laugh.

  I stir the mixture once before dropping in each of the six items I was brought; a small emerald gemstone, a golden locket, a ring with a blood diamond in the center, a cross — ironic I know — a photo, and last, a ruby stud earring.

  Each item lands into the potion, and I watch as they are coated with lightning, and then the entire caldron goes up into flames. The blue and white fire licks up nearly to the rafters. When it dies back down, I look into the bottom of the cauldron and see each item in perfect condition; the potion having burned away.

  “Excellent,” I whisper as I reach into the bottom of the cauldron and pull each item out.

  I study them, and not a single thing is out of place on any of them. Jonathan can put each of them back tomorrow, and they won’t have a single clue they were ever missing.

  Chapter Five

  Kalayavan

  “Ready boss?” I call into Javaraya’s office as I roll up the sleeves of my crisp, black button-down shirt. I don’t know why he insists on enforcing a damn dress code, but like an excellent upper-level demon, I play by the rules. Mostly.

  “Yeah, let’s go,” he calls back as he steps out of his office, magically sealing the door behind him.

  Working for the Devil isn’t such a bad gig, at least not when you’re a demon that he kind of likes. He would never say that, but I’m his right-hand man, and he definitely also enjoys the view of my ass; I can’t blame him, it’s pretty fucking great.

  “Ernesh is insisting the lightning wasn’t from the dragons,” I remark as we walk down the hallway. Javaraya snorts his objections to that statement, but it feels hollow — forced — like he almost doesn’t believe his own objections. But what else could it be other than the damn dragons? After all, it’s not like we really know what they do up there.

  There is no way for anyone without wings to get up to the top of Gehenna Cliffs, not even the vampire bats can fly that high — something about the elevation. So the only ones that are able to get to the cliffs are the ones that run them, the dragons.

  Walking the rest of the way in silence, we meet up with the others. There is a secret meeting room under the center of town, that can only be granted access when all of us are here to open it. It prevents anyone from getting here early and setting traps or anything like that.

  “Why the fuck am I here?” growls Ajal, head of the werewolf territory.

  “Are you still the head werewolf?” Javaraya remarks without emotion and Ajal just rolls his eyes, not bothering with a retort.

  We can’t have a meeting without all the heads; it’s the way we do things now. When our parents gave up their reign to us a few years ago, we decided we would make changes in hopes of more peace.

  I know, peace for evil beings, laughable, right? But we wanted to change things.

  Before we all came into power, Hells Hallow was as peaceful as you can expect of a secret town full of evil beings and dark magic. We were tired of just dealing with each other, putting up with the other races when we had to for survival. Now we try to work together as much as possible. Does that mean we’re friends? Fuck no. But we can meet without the worry of secret sabotage, at least we hope.

  “Let’s just get this over with,” Dearil, the head siren, huffs. “I fucking hate being here,” he grumbles his objections to solid fucking ground. What is with the sirens, always wanting to be in the fucking ocean? I’m a demon, but that doesn’t mean I want to constantly be in Hell. Maybe the ocean is a cooler place to be than Hell. I mean, I know it’s cooler, but you know what I mean.

  We each put our wrist out and slash it open in one way or another, “patentibus,” we whisper as the blood collects under us, commanding the ground to open under our feet.

  As the doorway opens up, we file into the underground meeting room one by one, and I seal the door up behind us.

  “Who didn’t put the torches out after the last meeting?” Javaraya snarls as we enter the lower hallways, and when I finally get down to them, I note that every single torch lining the walls is lit.

  I turn to Arius, the head vampire. “Don’t fucking look at me, Kalayavan, I put them out, and you watched me,” he growls. I think back to the last meeting, and he is right. I clearly remember him putting them all out. I remember because he called it bitch work and grumbled over having to do it the whole fucking time.

  “Whatever,” Javaraya complains, “just make sure they’re out this time. We don’t need to burn down
the town.”

  We walk down the hallway and push open the main door to the meeting room, and as soon as we enter, the chandelier lights up in small flames.

  “Show off,” Dearil grumbles to Javaraya.

  “That wasn’t me,” he remarks, confused.

  “Evening boys,” we hear a light feminine voice call and whip our heads around towards the head chair as it slowly turns to show the figure sitting in it.

  In Javaraya’s chair sits a small woman, her face shadowed with a broad-brimmed, black hat. She’s dressed in black from head to toe, at least as far as I can see.

  “How the fuck did you get here? And who are you?” Javaraya growls, and I watch his hand start to flame in anger.

  I watch as her lips spread into a toothy, white smile, and her head slowly lifts to reveal purple, nearly glowing eyes. “Name’s, Tanda… and you are?” she asks, her voice actually sounding curious, as if she doesn’t really know.

  “Well, Tanda, I suggest you get the fuck out before there isn’t anything left to remove from here but ashes,” Javaraya growls.

  “No, I don’t think I’m going to do that,” she says as she brings her hand up to inspect her nails.

  “You asked for it,” Javaraya smirks, bringing his fire-covered hand up.

  He creates a fireball and heaves it towards her; when it hits the center of her chest, it dissipates with a hiss. She waves her hand in front of her face, removing the smoke and simply raises an eyebrow in question.

  “Ouch,” she mocks.

  “Looks like you’re losing your touch,” Ernesh chuckles, stepping up and throwing a few lightning rods her way.

  When they hit her, the lightning encases her body. Still, she doesn’t even move as it surrounds her, then loses its energy and disappears.

  “Really? Is that all you got?” she questions.

  “What the fuck?” I ask.

  “Are you done yet?” she questions, bringing her hand up to her mouth to cover a fake yawn as if we’re fucking boring her.

  Javaraya and Ernesh exchange a nod before both raising their hands and hitting her with a continuous stream of lightning and fire. An ear-piercing scream hits my ears, and I smirk; whatever protection she thought she had is gone now. Until her screams turn into a wicked laugh. Confused, Javaraya and Ernesh pull back their magic, and there she sits, laughing in the devil’s own chair.

  I stand there, jaw dropped open as I watch her laugh without a single hair out of place. Until she stands, holding her hands out palms up, her left-hand lights up with a white and blue fireball — a hotter flame than the devil himself can conjure on-demand — and purple lightning flows over her other hand. When my eyes hit hers, they’re glowing a bright violet hue, and with the flame and lightning lighting up her face, I can see her dark hair is actually purple, not black. Her pouty lips turn up into a sinister smile.

  “My turn?” she asks, and tosses a fireball up in the air, and catches it as it falls back down as if she is playing catch with a baseball.

  “Who are you?” I manage to stutter out because if this bitch wants to take us all out, she probably fucking can. Right here, right now, and no one would ever know.

  “I told you, name’s Tanda… Tanda Morass,” she says, and Ernesh lets out a very undignified cough at the name while Javaraya’s jaw actually drops open.

  “Oh, you remember, do you?” she asks, and I study my devil and the fucking dragon as they just about lose their shit.

  “Good, how about you sit the fuck down then. We have things to talk about,” she growls and puts out her fireball, calming her lightning, and retaking her seat.

  Javaraya takes the seat at the far end, opposite the head of the table; Ernesh sits to his left, and I take the place to his right. Next to me sits Dearil, Ajal across from him, and Arius stands off to the side of the room, refusing to sit.

  “Not going to join the party, love?” Tanda asks Arius.

  “Whatever shit you have with those two,” he points to Javaraya and Ernesh, “has nothing to do with me.”

  “Actually, love, it has everything to do with all of you,” she says.

  Tanda

  The Devil sits across the table from me, his demon to his right, the dragon to his left. Then we have the pouty vampire that won’t sit the fuck down — can I shock him with a little lightning to get the point across, or should I just leave it? I should probably leave it; I’ve put on enough of a show. The siren and werewolf take turns between glaring at me and glaring at Javaraya.

  “Talk, witch,” Javaraya demands; it’s cute how he thinks he is still in charge.

  “I think you should do a little talking first, the dragon too. You know who I am, but the others don’t, so why don’t we share,” I start, waving my hand towards the devil, yielding the floor to him. “Go on, share some of Daddy’s dirty little secrets,” I whisper, and that gets the attention of the others. Their heads whip over to him, and he glares at me even harder — like I said, it’s cute.

  “There used to be a dark witch coven in Hells Hallow,” Javaraya grumbles.

  “There are still dark witches here,” Dearil points out. “That’s kind of the point of Hells Hallow, we’re all dark, evil, whatever.”

  “But no full covens, just single witches who think they’re the shit,” I add helpfully. Javayara glares his disagreement at my helpfulness.

  “Like I was saying, Morass used to be a dark witch coven here, their base was in the Forbidden Forest.”

  “Still is,” I add with a smile.

  “If you want me to talk, could you shut up?” he growls.

  “Sorry, just making sure you don’t miss any details,” I smile.

  He rolls his eyes at me, and I have to bite my lip to not laugh.

  “But the Forbidden Forest is… Well, fucking forbidden, it’s kind of in the name,” Ajal adds. “We can’t even go there.”

  “Fuck, why would you want to?” Dearil asks as a shiver visibly runs down his spine.

  “Morass witches had a tendency to think the rules didn’t apply to them,” Javaraya grits while staring at me.

  “Still don’t,” I lean forward and retort while staring at the devil.

  “Quarter of a century ago the coven died,” Javaraya mumbles.

  “Like they broke up?” Arius asks, looking for clarification.

  “No, like every single member just weakened and died within two weeks,” Ernesh replies.

  “Almost every single member,” I add.

  “And now you’re back, to what? Seek some kind of unwarranted revenge against the town?” Ajal asks.

  “Nope, I’m here because the same thing that caused my coven’s death twenty-five years ago is coming back, and if we don’t stop it, nothing can. It will mean the end of everything we know,” I explain, and they each take turns snorting and rolling their eyes in disagreement; all but Ernesh.

  Ernesh is the oldest of the group; he would have been about ten when my coven died, so he should remember everything well enough. Javaraya was eight, and he should be able to recall whatever he saw at the time, I just don’t know how much daddy dearest clued him in. I know the dragons are a bit more open with their family members, especially the ones they’re grooming to take over. Ernesh should have been attending minor meetings by ten. He was definitively privy to more knowledge than most.

  “You remember her?” I ask Ernesh, and when his eyes connect with mine, I know he does. I can feel lightning that matches his flowing between my fingers and my eyes lighting up.

  “You remember Khalida, my mother? Do you remember her going to seek help from your father? Going as far as to fly to where she was forbidden, the Gehenna Cliffs, to your very home.”

  “Yes,” he whispers, “I remember.”

  “Thought you might,” I seethe.

  “And you? Do you remember my mother coming to your father, begging him to join forces to fight what was coming, and he refused. He thought he could do it all on his own, but when it came down to it, he ran back to
the Underworld and hid,” I spit out towards Javaraya.

  He doesn’t respond, but he looks away, breaking eye contact, and I know he remembers her, even if he won’t admit it.

  “She was pregnant with me… Did you think I was dead too? Or did no one even bother to check?” I growl.

  “You don’t mean… Wait,” the demon, Kalayavan, questions, pressing his fingers to his temples to stave off a headache, no doubt. “What are you saying exactly?” he asks.

  “She’s the last living witch in the Morass coven, the most powerful dark magic coven that has ever walked between realms,” Ernesh whispers, slowly looking over at me, and I know he is watching the lightning that matches his flow over my hands.

  “Hey,” I smirk, giving a little wave.

  Javaraya eyes the white and blue flames, similar to his own but much hotter, as they lick over my arms. I can hear Ajal breathing, the slight tick of his clawed hand under the table. Arius watches my eyes as they glow — a purple hue — much like the red that his eyes glow when in vampire form. Dearil studies me, and I know he can’t tell if I have anything that he has, but I do. I have something from each and every one of their kind, but it’s a little early to show all my cards. I’m merely setting up the deck right now.

  “What did they do to you?” Ernesh manages to grits out in anger.

  “Gave me nearly everything I would need to do what they couldn’t,” I respond, tipping my chin up and holding my head high.

  “Nearly everything?” Kalayavan questions.

  “I still need all of you,” I grumble, and that gets a laugh from Arius.

  “Oh, that’s fucking rich,” he stumbles over his words, trying to laugh, breathe, and talk at the same time — I am not amused. “Here you are, some big badass witch bitch, with all the powers in the fucking world. Flames hotter than the Devil himself, and lightning that rivals the goddamn dragons, and you still need us?” He laughs some more before walking over to me. Placing his palms on the table in front of me, he leans down close to me, his eyes connecting with mine.