Daughter of Flames
A Girl and Her Hellhounds Book One
Nicole Zoltack
Copyright 2021 by Nicole Zoltack
Cover Artist: Cover Design by JervyBonifacio|Phoenix Design Studio
ISBN: 9798746953322
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
To my dad
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Other Books By Nicole Zoltack
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
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Chapter 1
It’s not easy growing up in Hell.
It’s even less easy to grow up in a large family.
It’s even worse when your siblings are more than willing to kill you if it would improve their worth in Daddy Dearest’s eyes.
And yes, that actually would make our father love one of us more.
It’s safe to say I don’t have a normal family. Not even close. I really do live in Hell. Flames. Red stone everywhere. Demons all about. Souls groaning and whining and gnashing of teeth and all of that.
And when I say large family, I do mean large family. Five brothers and six sisters.
And I’m the baby in the family.
Which isn’t funny at all. I’m not coddled in the slightest, and I can’t get away with anything.
Actually, that’s not true. I could literally get away with murder if I wanted to. I mean, when your father is Lucifer…
Yes. That Lucifer.
And my siblings, we all have Lucifer as our father, but our mothers… most of us don't know who they are.
I do, though. Her name is Latisha, and she had a very distant relative who you might have heard of.
Lilith.
Yes, the original dark power couple, the Prince and Princess of Darkness are both related to me.
You would think that would make me extra evil or something like that, but no. If anything, Lucifer wants me to be even more evil. My siblings think I'm too much of a goody two-shoes, to which I always tell them that I don't even own a pair of shoes. And I don't. All I wear are a pair of boots that go most of the way up my thighs. I also own about fifty pairs of them because all dogs love to chew on shoes, and yes, that does include hellhounds.
I have two. They're baby hellhounds named Demonfang and Shadechomp, and I love them to pieces.
Yes, demons can love, thank you very much. I’m sure there are some who think that’s impossible, but it’s the truth. I dote on them, and they love me in return. They’re as loyal as loyal can be, and I would do anything for them.
And they would do anything for me. Once, there was a demon who talked to me in too sharp of a tone. This was a few years ago, before Lucifer formally announced to all of demonkind that I was his youngest daughter.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering, no, I don’t call my father Lucifer to his face. He wouldn’t appreciate that at all.
But my hellhounds, they took exception to that demon and his tone toward me. They didn't just growl at him. No, they completely went flames on, and they bit a chunk out of him, and they probably would've killed him if I would've allowed them to. I didn't, though, and my siblings razzed me about it for months.
“He deserved to be killed,” my eldest brother said. He’s Lance. We’re the only two to have glowing yellow eyes. All of the others have black eyes.
Out of all of them, I’m the only one to have blond hair. In the sunlight, it can look golden or white even, depending on how bright it is.
I’m playing with Demonfang and Shadechomp at an area of Hell that has a bunch of ancient Roman-inspired structures. I like to call it my den, but it’s not mine. I just come here more often than anyone else.
My hellhounds love to come here with me and run around all over the place. There are all kinds of geometric designs carved into the stone, all arranged in mostly unclosed circles. There's a nearby raised platform with five pillars that might or might not be used for sacrifices or something like that. I don't really pay attention to any of that, which, depending on your point of view, is a good thing. A demon shouldn't want to be a model student, right? I mean, only angels would strive for a perfect 4.0 GPA, am I right?
Not that I go to school, and yes, there’s a demonic academy here in Hell for demon teenagers, but I don’t attend. Hall of Hell. It’s a terrible name, in my opinion, but no one asked me.
Demonfang rushes over and brings me a dead dire rat. Awesome. I hate dire rats, but their claws contain a venom that can be sold on the black market for a boatload. Not that I need money, and yes, there’s a black market in Hell. Trust me. It’s insane some of the things you’ll find and the prices demons will pay.
But I will say that in other demons’ eyes, at least, I’m pampered like I’m royalty.
Among my family, not so much.
I bend down and rub Demonfang’s two heads. Most hellhounds have three heads, but both of mine only have two. You could call them runts, and then I would bury you three feet under. Why three? So animals will have an easier time finding your remains.
Um, I guess I am a bit demonic after all if you press the right buttons.
Shadechomp barks from one head and growls from the other. He only does that when a family member is coming. Great.
I keep on rubbing Demonfang. From my peripheral vision, I spy Larissa. She's the eldest female, born after Lance. Don't ask me their ages, demon-wise because I don't know. I'm not even sure how old I am, demon-wise. Time's a bit weird here in Hell, but if you pay attention, you can learn how things are going time-wise up on Earth.
A place I’ve never been, Earth.
Larissa isn’t alone, however. All of my sisters come and form a semicircle around me. Lara, Lena, Lola, Lily, and Lani.
Great. Awesome. Lovely.
I straighten, and Demonfang inches even closer to my legs as if to protect me, but my hellhounds wouldn’t attack my siblings even if I ordered them to. My sisters smell too much like me, and they also determine shadows or some such.
“What can I do for you all?” I ask even though I’m not interested in doing anything at all for them.
“Your dogs started tiny fires
in the mansion again,” Lena said.
I roll my eyes. Hell is a place for fires. What’s wrong with that?
Lily’s wearing practically nothing, like always. She is a succubus. The rest of us are just regular demonesses. She fiddles with her top, which is basically just a bra, and rolls her eyes. “Lena’s just upset that she couldn’t get to either of the kitchens.”
“Are either of them still stocked up when Lena’s around?” Lara asks.
Lola huffs a sigh. “And you prefer for no one to have any food at all.”
Yeah, if there are any two of us who are the antithesis of each other, it would be Lena and Lara. Lena is, well, there’s no nice way to say it. She’s a glutton, whereas Lara is almost a skeleton. She prefers to not eat at all, and she thinks no one else should have food either, for some reason. I swear she’s the embodiment of famine, which is very freaky and no thank you.
But yeah, neither of them has a healthy relationship with food.
Honestly, I’m not sure any of us have many healthy relationships at all.
“Aren’t you going to do something about your dogs?” Lani asks.
Lani’s thing is anger. She’s a being of wrath, and I swear her emotion only changes from angry to fury to wrath to infuriated. Shades of anger.
“If you’ll do nothing, I will,” Lola snaps.
And that sets my own fire off, and I get right up in Lola’s face. She has the highest kill count of all of us by far. Death is her thing, and I will be damned before I let her kill my hellhounds.
“You come near them, and I will kill you myself,” I snap.
“Oh, ho?” Lola bursts out laughing. “As if you would even try.”
“I wouldn’t try. I’d succeed. You’d be dead, and no one, not even good ole Dad would be able to save you.”
Lola rolls her eyes and shoves my shoulder. “You talk the talk, but you don’t walk the walk.”
“Have you seen these boots?” I kick up a heel. The points are just like a stiletto, a blade, sharp and deadly. “These boots are going to—”
“No, you aren’t.”
I whistle. Shadechomp comes rushing over, and I go to try to shove Lola back onto the ground, using my hellhound to trip her, but she doesn’t fall over, and Shadechomp isn’t at quite the right angle, and it’s all messed up.
Lola bursts out laughing. “You’re so pathetic. I swear, any day now, and we’ll see a halo above your head.”
“You do have the hair of an angel,” Lily says.
“How would you know?” I ask her. “Have you spent any time with angels?”
“Yes, actually,” Lily says with a smile. “There’s nothing more fun than trying to corrupt an angel, but you wouldn’t know about that, would you, Lydia?”
I scowl. “Why don’t you bother Larissa?” I grumble. “She never does anything at all.”
Larissa’s smile is slow to form. If that doesn’t demonstrate Larissa’s personality, then nothing does. She’s apathetic, indifferent about everything, and if she came back to live a second life, she would be a sloth. She’s the laziest demon in the world.
“You need to do more than just play with your runts all day long,” Lily says. “Come on. How about you and I head on up to Earth and find some—”
“No thanks.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Lily protests.
“Let me guess. It involves boys.”
“Well, duh.” Lily giggles.
“Lydia likes to pretend she’s an angel, is that it?” Lani asks, her tone just short of rage.
“Why do you all resent me so much?” I ask. “I’m just doing my own thing, having fun. That’s why you like to go and see boys, Lily. And you like to kill things. That’s your thing, Lola.”
“That’s just it,” Larissa says, speaking up for the first time. “You don’t have a thing.”
“But I do.” I spread out my hands to point to my hellhounds. “I do.”
I hold up my right hand, and a glowing fiery orb of energy appears. The design inside the ball has a few crescent moons and lines, and I blast out the ball. My hellhounds race after the ball, and my lips curl into a crooked grin.
“You all might not understand me, but I don’t care,” I say.
“You’re not apathetic enough,” Larissa remarks coolly.
“Nah,” Lani says. “She’s just plain pathetic.”
I grit my teeth. It’s not anything new. My siblings truly don’t understand me. They act like I’m just a baby, like I’m wretched and weak and vulnerable. Like I’m beneath them.
Sometimes, that bothers me. Sometimes, it makes me want to rise above, to take them on, to prove to them that I can be as demonic as them, as devious, as destructive and devastating.
But why? Why cause a famine or start a war or kill for no reason at all? They'll do that and call it fun, and I just don't see the appeal.
So maybe I’m not that demonic after all.
I need some motivation to do anything. Isn't that how things should be? Rather than just killing for the sake of killing?
“Maybe I’m too evolved for the likes of you all,” I spit out.
My sisters, every last one of them, burst out laughing as if I told the most ridiculous joke in the last millennium.
Whatever. They can think I’m weak. I don’t care.
I’m Lydia. I’m a daughter of Lucifer too.
And I’ll do what I want.
Chapter 2
Thankfully, my sisters snap their fingers and teleport away.
Demonfang and Shadechomp return, but neither of them has the orb of fiery energy in any of their combined four heads. Instead, there's a rolled-up scroll in Demonfang's right head.
I take it from him, flick my fingers, to call away the flames from his heated body away from the scroll, and then flick the scroll to open it.
Awesome. I’ve been summoned by Daddy Dearest.
That’s fire-rific for three reasons.
One, I hate being summoned.
Two, Lucifer never does that unless he’s in a foul mood.
Three, I just had to deal with my sisters giving me a hard time, and now, the Prince of Darkness is going to as well.
I never should’ve gotten out of my bed this morning. If I had known I would have to see Lucifer today…
Any day that you have to see Lucifer is never a good day. That's just not possible. He's always out for himself, and if he asks you for something, you better believe it's because he needs it, and he'll get you to do it, or else he'll force you to do it, and he'll usually make you pay with your life if you fail him.
I used to have more siblings. I’ll just leave it at that.
“Demonfang, Shadechomp, you might not want to come for this,” I tell them.
Demonfang begins to whine, and I laugh as I bend down to his level and rub his necks, scratching him.
“You didn’t do wrong by giving me the missive,” I assure him.
I kiss his two noses and then Shadechomp’s, and I start to walk away.
Their paws pad behind me, and I just shake my head, laughing. They're unreal, these two. They would follow me through the fires of Hell if I asked them to. Of course, being hellhounds, they would survive, but even if they wouldn't survive, they would still follow me even if I made it clear that they would die. They know and understand life and death. They know they don't gnaw on bones of the living, for instance.
Although if I sicced them on my enemies, they would.
Not that I have any enemies. My siblings don’t count.
Yeah, I’m not really a very good demon.
Is that what this meeting is about? I hope not. The last thing I need is for Lucifer to get on my case about being more evil. It's not that I have anything against having things my way. I just don't see why my needs and wants have to negatively affect others, you know? I don't need someone to die for me to feel good about myself, and I don't need others to suffer either.
Honestly, I think I’m an introver
t, and that’s not how demons usually are, you know? Demons are usually personable and in your face but charming.
I’m not charming. Not really. I just want to be left alone to do my own thing.
But I’ll never be left alone if I’m late for the audience with my father, and I hurry to the amphitheater-like throne room he has for himself.
To my surprise, Lucifer isn’t sitting on his throne but rather pacing in front of it.
So not a good sign.
“Father,” I say coolly as I approach.
He does not stop his pacing to face me. If anything, he picks up speed. “Lydia.”
“Yes?” My stomach drops. When he’s in a good mood, he calls me Bright One. Otherwise, he’ll call me by my name or other terms I’d rather not get into now or ever.
But he says nothing, muttering to himself. I only catch one word.
“Bethlehem.”
Now, there are two Bethlehems of note to my father. The one where a certain man was born eons ago and another one that Father had ventured to recently. Seven or eight years ago, I think. Earth years. Something like that. Ever since, Lucifer has not been happy about the place.
Even though I know I’m going to regret asking about it, I blurt out, “What’s the deal with Bethlehem? It’s just a small town, right?”
“It’s a city that has a great deal of history.”
“Demonic history?”
Daughter of Flames: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (A Girl and Her Hellhounds Book 1) Page 1