The Lost Daughter: Hells Hallow Book One

by Bo Reid

  “Oh, I don’t know, for the reason you just laid out? Maybe she has been acting this whole time, and now she’s just changing her method of delivery,” I argue.

  Javaraya just looks at me with an expression that clearly says, can you hear yourself when you talk?

  “Okay, fine. It was a stretch but one that had to be pointed out. I see you had time to clean your office.”

  “Yeah well, couldn’t sleep last night, so after the quake, I came in here to make sure everything was fine and just started cleaning up,” he says, taking a seat in his desk chair, and I take a seat in one on the other side. I watch as he pulls out some records, journals, and books. Setting them all across his desk in a neat stack.

  “Do you remember a few weeks ago,” I start to say. “When everyone that ate at Nightmare Diner got sick?”

  Javaraya looks over at me. “Yeah, food poisoning, something about a bad delivery of something, but I can’t remember what.”

  “That’s what we thought, but remember no one ate the same thing, it wasn’t like they all had burgers, and it was bad ground beef.”

  “Where are you going with this?” he asks, turning around to look at me.

  “I’m just saying, what if it wasn’t a case of food poisoning? Or maybe it was but not in the traditional sense of something being off with the shellfish. What if it was intentional?” I ask.

  “You think someone intentionally poisoned the food at the diner?”

  “Or spelled a few of the customers to make it seem like they had food poisoning.”

  “But who?”

  I raise one eyebrow at him.

  “She wasn’t even here then,” he says.

  “Or maybe she was. We’ve been assuming the night of the lightning show was the night she got here, but what if it wasn’t. What if it was just the night she locked the barrier? No one goes into the Forbidden Forest — even you just run along the border — she could have been here for weeks, months. Hell, she could have been living here this whole fucking time, and we would have never known.”

  He stares at me, clearly not pleased with what I’m saying, but he can’t deny the implications of it being possible.

  “All I’m saying is we go to this meeting, even bring all our records and shit. But maybe we take whatever she says with a grain of salt, or a fucking truck full. We still don’t know anything about her. And we also don’t even know if she is who she says she is, she might not even be a Morass witch.”

  “She has to be, no one else could be that strong,” he counters.

  “No one that we know of, but we don’t know everyone or everything that is out there. Just think about it,” I say, standing up from my chair and walking out of the room.

  Javaraya

  Fate has a way of pulling you to where you least want to be.

  I stare at the delicate script scrolled across the next page in the journal given to me by Khalida Morass, attempting to make sense of the senseless. I truly cannot tell at this point if this was a very well thought-out long-term prank, or the ramblings of a dying dark witch.

  Or if they’re real, if somehow she knew one day these words would be unlocked, and that it will just take more time to make sense of them.

  Maybe it's like a puzzle; you only get a few pieces at a time, and trying to view the full picture will drive you mad. Maybe I just need to wait for more pieces.

  And of course, maybe it's all just a bunch of hocus pocus witchy bullshit, and I just want to believe differently.

  All these years have passed, twenty-five long fucking years, that I have been waiting to open this. Waiting to read these pages. Always waiting, always patient — okay maybe not always patient but mostly. When I was younger, I used to wish that these pages would tell me how to find her daughter, because I held out on the belief that she was alive and out there somewhere.

  There was even a brief moment in time that I wished this book would lead me to her so I could save her from wherever she was. So I could be the one to rescue her and bring her back here. So I could bring her home with me.

  Yeah, The Devil wanted to be her knight in shining fucking armor. Is that fucked up or what?

  Maybe a piece of me still looks at her as mine, as someone who needs to be saved — as someone who I need to rescue. But she doesn’t need my help, clearly never did. And this book was never going to give me the keys I needed to find her. Maybe that is why I don’t want to believe Kalayavan, why I don’t see the obvious pieces he is laying out. He is giving me new pieces to a puzzle that I don’t know how to finish, and maybe a part of me is still that little boy wanting to be a hero, and it’s clouding my vision.

  If I wasn’t so hung up on the past, if I wasn’t so clouded by the pull my body feels to be near her, would I see what he is saying? Would I have already put more pieces together? Or is he reaching for something that isn’t there.

  Are we both just trying to smash together pieces that don’t go to the picture we’re supposed to be creating? Is there just one right answer or several different optional endings, endings that we can create ourselves by choosing the right pieces to put together.

  We are in charge of our end results, there is no higher power to control what we do. At least not one that can alter the movements and timelines of evil beings, God has no authority over who we become. It's why we are who we are. It's why we are what we are. I push all thoughts out of my head, closing the book in front of me and stowing it back on the shelf. Then I think better of it and pull it back out, setting it on the top of my pile of records and scrolls to bring to our little meeting. I take an enchanted bag, shoving all the items inside and throwing it over my shoulder before walking out of my house.

  I look around the town, surveying the damage, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see that the damage the earthquake caused has mostly been eradicated. There are a few trees still being rerooted, but everything else seems to be mostly intact.

  I see Marigold working some magic on a particularly large tree and walk over to her. “You’ve done a great job with the town, thank you,” I tell her.

  She slams the tree into the ground, and I watch the roots spread out into the dirt. “Thank you, group effort.”

  “Tanda helped you with this?” I ask, motioning around to the cleanup efforts the witches are putting in.

  “She did, she wrote up a few quick spells and gave the witches a little power boost to be able to handle such a large job without wearing themselves out. Not everyone is as capable of the larger magic, not like she is.”

  “She taking credit for this?” I ask.

  She looks at me, studying me before answering. “Are you asking me what it is I think you are asking?”

  “I’m just asking how much involvement she had here.”

  “No one other than myself knows that she is the reason for the power boost, or for the quick cleanup spells. She asked that her name not be brought up today. She has no interest in claiming the credit for the efforts to clean the town. As far as the other witches know, I had the spells in an old forgotten book, and the enchanted power-boosting talismans were locked in a drawer somewhere. No one knows the truth.”

  I nod my head, accepting her answer before turning to walk towards the forest.

  “She’s here to save your fucking ass, Javaraya, not steal your throne.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tanda

  I’m pacing around my cabin kicking myself for going into town this morning. I couldn’t sleep after the massive earthquake and Arius’ surprise visit. After my little “chat” with my father there was no hope in sleeping. How could I sleep after that? After I had him so fucking close but so far away? I cried for a while; for the first time in many years, I cried — tears of pain and sorrow, for a lost childhood and dead parents. I cried in agony for what my life was, a damn lie. And what it will become, an endless line of pain. Then while tears streamed down my face, cutting my skin like razor knives, I pushed passed all of that, went to the kitchen, and grabbed an empt
y vial. Then I continued to let my tears spill out, until there was nothing left, collecting my tears. Because if I’m going to be miserable I might as well be fucking useful.

  Then when I was done feeling sorry for myself, I looked back into the coven journals. They didn’t provide me with any answers that I wanted to read. They did, however, keep meticulous records of every activity leading up to the final fight. And it seems like they’re taking the same timeline, and that means we have a little under a year before everything comes crashing down.

  Unless we can stop it.

  Unless we can bond together.

  Unless we can fall in love.

  Unless we can agree to fight together.

  Unless a demon, siren, werewolf, vampire, dragon, and the devil all bond with a dark witch in order to save the world…

  How did this become my life?

  “Care to open up?” I hear Ernesh’s deep voice call. I move towards the front door and open it, walking out into the front yard and towards the barrier.

  “This is a really stupid idea,” I grumble. I press an electrically-charged hand against the barrier, whispering the incantation to open a doorway, then step back to let them cross through. I close the barrier before turning around and take in the sight of the six men about to walk into my home.

  Yup, stupid idea, and hormones aren’t even involved this time.

  "After you,” I say, and motion with my hand towards the house. They’re all carrying bags, sacks, or papers, and books under their arms, which I eye carefully. I turn to follow them up to the house when Arius lightly grips my arms. He reaches out, gripping my chin and tilting my face to look up at him.

  “You okay?” he asks softly.

  “I’m fine,” I say, my voice firm as I step away from him, quickly giving him my back as I march up to the house to meet the others.

  We step into my living room, and I move into the kitchen. “Tea?” I ask, and get a chorus of vaguely agreeable grumbles and set out to make a tea that is actually safe for everyone here to drink.

  I hand them each a mug — tiny cauldron — and turn back, secretly adding a small drop of my special ingredient to my own tea before turning back around to face them.

  “Is it safe?” Arius asks as he looks into his mug.

  “Ha-ha, yes, it’s safe. Trust me, if I wanted to off you guys, tea would not be how I did it.”

  “How would you do it?” Ajal asks as he sniffs his tea before taking a tentative sip.

  I shrug. “Frame someone else, of course. And killing you in my own home is not the best way to frame someone else.”

  “No one knows we’re here; it would be easy to say we never were,” Dearil says, taking a sip of his own drink.

  “And I’m supposed to do what with your bodies? Toss you all into the Lost Soul Lake?” I ask, taking a sip of my own tea, closing my eyes as I fight off the impending high. I shouldn’t be drinking Angel blood-laced tea with all these guys in my house, but I have no choice. I could feel the shaking start early this morning on my way back from town. Then the throbbing pain, the uncontrollable fire dancing across my skin, and the lightning jumping between my fingers. If I don’t drink this now, I’m going to have an incident with all of them here, and that is one truth I’m not ready to give them yet.

  I refuse to be weak when they are around.

  “Have you been to the lake?” Javaraya asks, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “Nope,” I say, glancing away and taking another sip of tea. “It’s just close; I can hear the screams, keeps me up at night.”

  “I don’t hear anything,” he says.

  “You don’t?” Ajal and Arius say at the same time and then glare at one another.

  Dearil looks at them, then glances at me and smirks. That’s when I realize he just confirmed his suspicion when it comes to some of my less-visible abilities — enhanced hearing from the vampire and the werewolf. He’s one smart cookie, damn him.

  “Anyways… I think we have some things to go over,” I say and motion for them to step over to the living room and take seats. When they move, I turn, setting my mug down and gripping the edge of the counter.

  Warmth spreads over my body, a nearly uncontrollable sense of euphoria that makes my legs feel like jello. I want to crumple into a pile of mush on the floor and never get up. I just want to embrace the happiness, the joy, the bright light that is rushing through my dark veins. I want to swan dive off of a cliff into white puffy clouds and just free fall into oblivion forever.

  “You coming?” I hear a deep gravelly voice ask, but I’m too gone to place who is asking. A hand rests on my shoulder, and I flinch back, shaking my head, attempting to clear the stupid high, forcing out the bright light and begging the darkness to coat my skin.

  “Yeah, right behind you,” I say, turning and seeing Ernesh standing in front of me.

  “You good?” he asks, narrowing his eyes on me. I turn, grabbing a small spoon and stirring what's left of my tea so I can avoid eye contact with him. “You often need to be high to deal with us?” he whispers, stepping closer to me, pressing his large body into mine.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, but I’m pretty sure it comes out slightly slurred, and I know my eyes are dilated to an unnatural size. Plus, there is a buzzing in my ear.

  “You do,” he insists, leaning in closer to whisper. “Take a minute. I’ll tell them you needed to find some paperwork or something, and you better come back with some fucking paper work,” he growls before turning and walking away. I quickly down the rest of my tea, I can’t waste it even if it does fuck me up. Then I sprint towards the back library, where lucky for me, all my paperwork actually is.

  I sink down in the large chair I spent far too many hours crying in last night, allowing the room to spin around me and the euphoria to drag me under. Thankfully the fog clears in record time, and by the time I’m standing to rummage around the office, there is a bang on the door.

  “Just a sec!” I call, and of course, the door opens, because who needs privacy, or manners?

  “You set the time, and you’re not prepared?” I hear Javaraya’s deep and utterly grumpy voice grit from the doorway.

  “Just had to find where I put this,” I say, picking up one of the journals that lay out all the warning signs in chronological order.

  “Well… are you ready now?” he questions, and I glare at him.

  “Yes,” I grit through clenched teeth. “Could have just spent your time rummaging through my house, would have been a fun waste of time.”

  “Sorry, couldn’t find your panty drawer,” he mocks, and when I turn around, the shock on his face nearly makes me laugh.

  I stop, turning around and leaning in close to him. I rise up on my tippy toes and whisper in his ear, “Sorry, I don’t wear panties.”

  The undignified cough he makes is well worth the last few moments. I turn and sashay into the living room, knowing his eyes have to be locked on my ass as he tries to figure out if I am or am not, in fact, wearing underwear.

  I drop all my stuff onto the large coffee table and start moving my hands around to get everything to align in an organized manner.

  I grab the journal that details the warning signs. “Okay, so I found this last night after the huge earthquake and went looking around. It’s a journal one of the members of my coven used to keep track of all the weird things that started to happen here. She detailed things in chronological order and was very thorough. I found when the earthquakes started, and if this go-around keeps to the same schedule, we have more of those to look forward to. But I also found that earthquakes were not the first thing that started happening; people were getting sick, a mass hysteria that swept through the town, and weird weather phenomenons that couldn’t be explained. Has any of that stuff happened in the last year?” I ask, looking around the group. I sink down to my knees in front of the coffee table so I can better go over the paperwork.

  “Couple of weeks ago, there were a few people th
at got sick after eating at Nightmare Diner, we chalked it up to food poisoning,” Javaraya says.

  “Any weather?” I ask.

  “Just your lightning show,” Ajal says.

  “Actually,” Dearil starts, “There have been more storms lately, but they’re farther out from shore and haven’t reached the cove. We haven’t had a mass ocean storm roll into the bay since the barrier was extended past the water, though, so I don’t know what the storms would do if the barrier wasn’t up.”

  “The barrier shouldn’t affect weather from passing in and out of the town, but I can take a look at it if you want me to,” I offer.

  “Yeah, okay,” he agrees and nods his head.

  “Any mass hysteria?” I ask, knowing I’m grasping at straws here, trying to connect dots that might not exist.

  “No,” Arius says.

  “Well… that’s not entirely true,” Kalayavan says, then looks to Javaraya for confirmation, and he nods. “About six months ago, there was something with the demons, but we have no idea what. A bunch of them just lost their shit; they started fighting in the houses, talking crazy about the end of our people. How nowhere would be safe, lots of shit like that. If they weren’t hurting each other, they were hurting themselves. But they never left their houses, they never went into the general public so…” he trails off.

  “So…” I press, waving my hand for him to continue.

  “So we sent them back down to Hell and called up a few demons on the waiting list to take their places in the town. No one really noticed; we all keep to ourselves anyway, and since they weren’t hysterical in public we just didn’t say anything.” He shrugs.

  “Hold up,” Arius says, raising his hand to indicate a time-out. “Let me get this straight; your people went on a fucking tangent about how it’s the end of time, crazy talking, and trying to kill each other. But because they didn’t leave Deprivation Drive, you guys didn’t find it pertinent to tell anyone? Not even us? We are supposed to run this town together. We’re supposed to be different than our parents, but those rules just what? Don’t fucking apply to you?” he growls.