The Lost Daughter: Hells Hallow Book One

by Bo Reid

  She shakes her head. “I’m lousy at goodbyes.” She looks away, sniffling slightly as she sets her coffee down on the counter and moves to flip our omelets.

  I get up from my place at her kitchen bar, moving around the tight space. I lightly grip her shoulder, turning her into me and wrapping my arms around her. She doesn’t allow herself to cry, just like I knew she wouldn’t. She might be sharing this with me but she still doesn’t trust me, and that's fair. I don’t know that I trust her either.

  “He was afraid of me; I hurt him once. It was an accident,” she finally whispers. “As soon as he realized this wasn’t some malfunction that could be fixed, when he realized what I was.” She sniffles. “He was scared. I’ve felt a lot of things in this life, Ajal,” she says, pulling back from me. I stare down at her. Looking into her deep purple eyes, noting the bags under them from lack of sleep.

  “But I have never been as hurt as I was in that moment, when the one person I thought would always be my friend looked at me as if I would one day hurt him again. But that the next time, it would be on purpose.”

  “So what did you do?” I ask softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face.

  “Made it so I could never feel like that again.”

  “You never let anyone get close enough to hurt you; you have walls topped with razor wire,” I tell her and watch her pretty mouth curve into a devilish smirk.

  “No one can hurt your heart if you don’t have one.”

  She steps out of my embrace, turning around to put our omelets onto plates, turning slightly to pass me mine, and a fork appears out of nowhere. I grab it as it floats in the air, moving to sit down at her small table just on the other side of the bar. She comes over and sits across from me, refilling our coffees before taking her place.

  We eat in contented silence, and when I’m done, I push my plate away and drain the rest of my coffee before speaking.

  “I’ve been with Cora for fifteen years — half my life. Werewolves are matched with their future mates at fifteen, so I knew I would never get to pick. It’s like an arranged marriage. Once we were matched, there was never any going back,” I tell her. Glancing up at her, I see she has stopped eating in order to focus on me.

  “Cora and I have shared a lot of things, but I’ve never loved her, and she has never loved me. It’s not about that, it's about trust, loyalty, honesty, and union. I wish I could say our union has always been strong, and the trust has always been there but the walls I put up between us are made of smooth glass. She can see past them to what she’s missing, but there's no way for her to climb over the wall and reach the other side.”

  “You can’t have love if you don’t have trust,” she whispers.

  “Love is off the table, Tanda. Not just for me and Cora, but for me in general.” I reach my hand across the table, and Tanda places hers in mine. “I know what you need from me, from all of us, but I can’t give that to you,” I whisper, and watch as she slowly nods her head in understanding. “You need someone to go to war with you, I’m your guy. I’ve got your back if you have mine.” I stand from my seat and take a step towards her before pulling her to stand with me. I cup her face, and she places her hands gently on my wrists. I stare into her eyes, wishing I could have so much more with her, knowing I can’t.

  “I can’t give you something that I won’t get in return, and you no longer have anything you’re willing to give away,” I whisper before bending down and softly kissing her lips. I feel a spark run from her lips to mine, all the way down to my toes. It sets my body on fire, and the shocking heat causes me to take a step back.

  “Sorry,” she whispers, touching her fingers to her lips.

  “It’s okay… I should go,” I tell her, and she nods her head as I walk past her and out the front door. I crash through the barrier and instantly regret it when I land on the other side. It’s just another wall separating me from what I really want.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tanda

  I get up the next morning before the sun has risen and head to where the Forbidden Forest meets the Pitch Forest, sneaking my way through the treeline and towards the Bottomless Pits.

  They’re not really bottomless, it’s just that the bottom is so far down, it's really not recommended to go spelunking in them. But there is something at the bottom that I just so happen to need. It’s simply a matter of figuring out which pit it’s in.

  “Memini tenebrarum potestates morte me ut probent quod quaero,” (I call to the darkness, to the powers of death, may they show me the way to what I seek.) I chant over the pits, sending a spark of purple lightning out. The ball of lightning floats over the pit closest to me, dipping down and then coming back up. It floats over the others and finally dips down into the pit closest to the werewolf cabins and disappears.

  I smile to myself, taking off in a sprint, and when I reach the edge of the pit, I dive into it, chasing my lightning as it drops farther and farther into the pit. My hair whips around my face as I stretch my arms out towards my lightning.

  I watch as the sparks crash into the bottom of the pit, pushing my hands out flat to slow my descent. I flip and land on my feet, just like a cat, always landing on my feet. Or at least trying to. I conjure up a torch and light it with my blue and white flame, holding it high above my head as I go over the markings carved into the cave walls. There are four tunnels, each leading in a different direction. I reach down, grabbing a handful of dirt from the cave floor and letting my lightning spark over it.

  “Ostende mihi viam in qua non quaerere,” (Show me the way to what I seek.) I whisper, blowing the dirt off of my hand. It whips around the bottom of the tunnel ,creating a small dirt tornado until it takes off down the tunnel to my right. I smile, taking a step in that direction then thinking better of it and halting my movements at the entrance of the tunnel.

  “Ostende mihi faciem periculis in quo est.” (Show me the dangers to which I must face.)

  The tunnel lights up with rows upon rows of torches that hang against the walls. As the lights continue, I see a faint glint of razors pop up from the floor. This tunnel is lined with traps — very Indiana Jones, but if that guy got through those traps then I can certainly get through these.

  I carefully move through the traps, wary not to trip them magically or otherwise as I walk through the tunnel. I feel the sting of an over-surge coming on but I push it away. “Not now,” I grit to myself, carefully placing my palm against the tunnel wall for a moment but pushing forward regardless.

  I feel my knees weaken, and I begin to drop to the floor. Reaching out, I grip the wall and jump away from the daggers that suddenly protrude from the walls. “Fuck!” I hiss.

  I growl under my breath, pushing myself to stand up straight and press on through the tunnel, being more careful to avoid any little triggers until I come to a deadend. Or what appears to be a deadend to anyone else brave enough — or stupid enough — to make it this far.

  I conjure up a blade, placing it to my forearm and make a deep cut. The blood flows over my skin and drips onto the floor. I place my other hand to the rock wall in front of me. “In hoc donum do morte, et quaerite in peculium maxime key aperire ostium,” (With this gift of death I give, I seek the key to open the most treasured door.) I command.

  The wall shimmers in front of me and then the voice booms throughout the tunnel. “Who are you to demand such precious treasures?”

  “I am the Daughter of Darkness, Daughter of the Deathless Mother, Daughter of the Angel of Death, the Lost Daughter, the Last Morass Witch, and I offer the purest dark blood in return for what I seek,” I say aloud.

  I don’t notice the movement until it is too late; I feel the hand dig into my chest and I brace my palms on the wall in front of me, dropping my torch. I grit my teeth, trying not to cry out from the pain as the disembodied hand digs around in my chest.

  “Your blood is pure darkness, thick like tar coating your insides, it would serve me well for a few more thousand ye
ars. However, there is something else I want more,” the disembodied voice says, ripping my very heart from my chest.

  I scream, dropping to my knees and looking up as my heart beats outside of my chest. “This is the price I require for what you seek,” the voice says, but as his sentence finishes, the wall shimmers once more and a figure steps out. A man that is seemingly carved from stone holds my heart in his hand as he crouches down to look me in my eyes. He reaches his hand out, gripping my chin and tilting it to look at him. “Do we have a deal?” he asks.

  “My heart for your key?” I clarify, he smiles at me, the dark purple glow from my heart lighting up his carved face.

  “Indeed,” he confirms.

  “What do you want with it?” I ask.

  “To add to my collection, of course,” he says, motioning his other hand to reveal many glowing hearts lined up neatly in glass cases inside the wall. Some glow a bright red hue, others pure white. I spy a gold one or two, and some don’t glow at all, and others are black. But none are purple.

  “This heart,” he says, bringing my attention back to my own heart that he holds. “This is the rarest of them all, and would thus complete my collection.”

  “What’s so rare about it?” I ask, my breath coming in shallow huffs. I cannot sustain this for much longer without making the deal. By making this deal he will make it so I can live without my heart in my chest, but if I don’t make this deal and he doesn’t put it back, I’ll die down here.

  “You don’t know?” he asks, his eyes growing wide as he sounds completely shocked.

  “I could take a wild guess, but why don’t you fill me in? I want to make sure it’s a fair bargain,” I tell him.

  “This heart,” he smiles almost lovingly down at it. “This heart is the purest essence of evil I have ever come across, and, dear, as you can see, I have met with some dark beings.” He motions to the blackest hearts in his cases. “This heart though, this heart was formed by ages of darkness and evil reign; there is not another one like it.”

  “If I give you my heart, you’ll give me the key, yes?” I grit, feeling the tunnel walls start to spin around me.

  “Of course. After all, a deal is a deal,” he says as his lips start to curve into a devious smile.

  “We have a deal,” I say as I reach my hand out. As he grips my hand in his cold stone carved palm and shakes, I can hear the sound of thunder roaring through the tunnel so loudly that it hurts my ear drums. The torches spark, the flames growing so tall they completely engulf the tunnel ceiling and curve to meet each other in the center.

  As I pull back my hand, he whispers an incantation while his hand hovers over my chest, and when he is done, I can breathe once more. I watch as he carefully places my heart in a glass case in the center of his display wall. Taking a step back, he admires the newest addition to his collection.

  “My key,” I demand as I’m finally able to once again rise to my feet.

  “Oh, yes,” he says as if he had forgotten to pour water into my tea cup. “Here you go.” His hand does a slight flourish, and he presents me with a golden key.

  “Thanks,” I grit, turning and beginning to walk down the tunnel towards the exit.

  “Remember dear, no refunds!” he calls while laughing before he once again disappears back into the wall. The flames of the torches die down the closer I get to the start of the tunnel and by the time I reach the end, I’m in pure darkness — good thing I don’t need the light to see.

  I begin to levitate, pushing myself towards the top of the pit, and when I hit the light of the forest, I collapse onto the ground around the pits. I’m so tired, I want to just stop and rest but I can’t. If I’m caught near the pits, in the werewolf territory, I’m fucked. So I push through the pain, through the aches, and through the searing pain in my chest.

  I walk back through the forest and towards my house as if I never left this morning.

  I catch the faint sound of trees rustling, and a branch breaking just before I reach the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I stop dead in my tracks, slowly turning and surveying the area around me but not even my enhanced vision can spot anything amiss in the area. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and goosebumps tickle my arms but I push the sense of something being wrong away and continue to move back into the Forbidden Forest.

  Back into my forest.

  The pain in my chest intensifies, and I feel exhaustion seeping into every single pore on my body as I row across the Lost Soul Lake and into the dense fog. I close my eyes briefly as I disappear into the cold and towards the skull rock. When it comes into view, I row harder, propelling myself and the tiny rowboat across the water until I reach it. I toss the rope over one of the large carved teeth and try to levitate myself into the mouth but I’m too tired and barely manage to make it a foot out of the boat. So instead, I use what little upper body strength I have to pull myself up — seriously, I should start working out more than my powers.

  The guys have to work out, like every day, I wonder if they would let me join them? No, I don’t need them, I can come up with my own workout routine.

  I haul myself over the edge and flop down inside — completely undignified — and I groan on impact. I swear my entire body aches, my muscles are sore, and even breathing hurts. His spell taking my heart shouldn’t have had this much of an effect on me, but maybe I’m just tired. Plus the additional strain of the excess power surges cannot be helping my body.

  I walk, well sort of hobble, down the long corridor towards the deadend. When I get there, I mumble my magical incantation to open the door, stepping inside and locking it behind me. I toss a small fire ball up to the ceiling to give off some light and move around the space to locate a small box.

  I pick it up and turn it over in my hands, opening it and pulling the key out of my pocket. I drop the key into the small box and close it with the snap of the lid. Sealing it in blood, I put it back down where I found it.

  Turning, I look over the shelves, attempting to locate anything that could help me to get a handle on these power surges. I need something equivalent or similar to the goodness in pure Angel’s Blood, considering I’m running dangerously low and I don’t see getting more to be an option at this point in time.

  Essence of a Heavenly Cloud, not enough.

  Golden Blood of a Demigod, not inherently good, can’t risk it.

  Unicorn Horn Dust, meh.

  Unicorn Blood, meh.

  Fairy Blood.

  Maybe I can mix something up that will at least help take the edge off. I continue to browse the shelves of dried herbs and start to laugh hysterically when I see one that I didn’t think qualified to be saved in a stone vault, hidden in a carved skull, at the back end of a lost lake filled with souls. Marijuana, could be useful.

  I start pulling things down from the shelves, starting with the marijuana. I open the canister it’s in and smell it. Well, at least Mom had good taste in drugs. I pull some out and conjure it into a joint, using my fire to light the end and take a long pull from it. Holding the smoke in my lungs until it burns and then slowly exhaling.

  I feel a smile pull at my lips and continue to work pulling items from the shelves. I grab a small cauldron out of the fireplace, lighting a fire under it and adding unicorn blood, fairy blood, and a tiny drop of Demi god blood. Even if they aren’t inherently good, they’re strong as fuck and getting a little strength boost right about now doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. As the mixture starts to boil, I take another hit from the joint, letting it hang between my lips. Then I sprinkle in a tiny amount of sparkling fairy dust; the dust tickles my nose, and I instantly start to sneeze and quickly put the cap back onto the tube.

  I peer into the cauldron, toning down the heat on the flame, and watch as it starts to glow a vibrant teal hue, far too bright and cheerful. I wait for it to start to cool down, hoping that obnoxiously bright color will simmer down with the heat on the mixture.

  I finish off the last of my joint, tossing the roach o
nto the ground and stomping it out with my foot. I test the mixture by dipping my finger into it and it’s cooled down enough, so I pick it up and take a deep breath.

  “Bottoms up,” I mutter before downing the entire small pot in one gulp. I gag on the vial taste of pure happiness, coughing as the cauldron clatters to the ground.

  The euphoria hits me like a ton of bricks; I can feel my eyes as they roll back into my head, and my legs wobble until I fall to the ground. I roll onto my back as the room starts to spin, and I groan.

  My vision starts to blur, happiness flowing over me in waves. Bright spots start to dance in my peripheral vision as images pop into my head. I close my eyes, allowing the high to pull my under, feeling like I’m drowning in the oceans waves.

  I try to hold onto reality, reaching my hand out to touch the cold hard ground, finding something to anchor me to where I am and not where the blood mixture wants to take me. It’s not enough, and the scenes play in my head.

  Kalayavan in my bed with me. Arius and I in his coffin. Dearil kissing me under water. Ernesh flying me high into the sky, much higher than I can fly on my broom. Ajal pressing his large body into me as he hovers over me. Javaraya kissing me. And someone else, a face I don’t recognize, but he pulls me close to him and kisses me as a blinding white light wraps around us.

  I feel the final pull of euphoria mixing with searing pain and freezing cold. A scream rips from my chest as I roll onto my side, blindly searching for anything to grip and keep me grounded but I find nothing.

  Instead, I let the pain pull me under, letting the blackness wash over my skin, and that’s the last thing I remember.

  Chapter Twenty

  Javaraya

  I hear a knock at my front door and groan as I push myself up off the couch to answer it. Can’t a guy get a day off? I’ve got a lot of fucking shit to process here.