Daughter of Flames: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (A Girl and Her Hellhounds Book 1)

by Nicole Zoltack

  “None of them,” Lance growls.

  “Me?” I touch my chest, my eyes wide. “Lance! I’m shocked! You really think—”

  “You’re the one spying on me for him,” he growls.

  “Oh, am I?” I ask, my tone cool as I scowl. “What if I am? What then? Do you really think that you’re attacking me like this—”

  “I’m not attacking you!”

  “No? You might as well be! You practically have steam coming out of your ears!”

  “What are you going on about?” he asks, so exasperated that I have to laugh.

  “Oh, come on. You mean to tell me that you never watched any human cartoons from eons ago? Looney Tunes? Popeye and Olive Oil?”

  “Olive Oil? What does cooking have to do with cartoons?”

  “No, no.” I laugh, which only aggravates him all the more. “Not olive oil. His girlfriend.”

  “Who?”

  “Popeye’s.”

  “Popeye is the name of a guy?”

  “Yeah, and you should see his pythons after he’s eaten some spinach.”

  He blinks a few times. “Are you high?” he demands.

  "On life," I say sweetly. "There's just something about being here, on Earth, smelling the clean, fresh air… although I bet there have to be places here that smell even cleaner, fresher… but still, it's a lot better than the air we're used to down in…" I make a show of glancing around us even though there's no one nearby, and I lower my voice as I add, "Hell."

  Lance scowls, and for once, he almost looks intimidating. No, scratch that. He does look as intimidating as he possibly can in his human form. “You aren’t spying for him.”

  I hold out my hands innocently. “How can you be sure one way or the other? I mean, just to be on the safe side, you really should consider—”

  “You should consider that I have no issues hitting a girl,” he growls.

  “That so?” I ask, my tone still very sweet. “Because I have no issues fighting back, and I don’t exactly fight fair.”

  I grin and let loose a low whistle.

  Lance grabs my wrist. “You’re not going to allow your dogs—”

  “They aren’t dogs,” I snap.

  “Yes, they are—”

  “They mean more to me than you or anyone else,” I hiss. “They care for me, are devoted to me—”

  “They don’t care about you. How can they? They’re just—”

  “Hellhounds are intelligent. They aren’t mindless like dogs and cats! They can hold jobs even!”

  “Oh, yes. The hellhounds at the prison, I assume that’s what you’re referring to? Didn’t one of them get killed? Two? I don’t recall, but I’m pretty sure they weren’t exactly doing their jobs to the best of their abilities.”

  “You…” I’m so angry that I can’t even formulate words. I shove Lance hard, but he doesn’t shift back any.

  My arms are in front of my body, parallel to each other, my palms facing each other. A glowing orb of energy forms, and I shoot it forward, straight at Lance’s chest.

  “You want to fight?” he hisses, one hand coming up and absorbing my magic as if it’s nothing. “You’ll lose.”

  “You only think I will,” I say haughtily. “You’re pathetic, Lance. Everyone knows it. Why do you think out of all of us, Father only punished you?”

  “If I recall correctly, sister,” he spits out, “you aren’t supposed to be here on Earth. Father forbade you to return here, isn’t that right?”

  “Maybe he did send me to spy on you after all, and let me just say that he won’t be pleased at all to know what you’ve been up to.”

  “As if Father needs a spy! He knows what we’re doing every second of every day.”

  “He does, doesn’t he?” I muse, my anger abating some just like that as I become more and more curious about that point.

  “What is it?” Lance asks suspiciously.

  “Do you know why Father told me not to return to Earth?”

  “I don’t know, and I frankly don’t care.”

  “My hellhounds…” I trail off as they come bounding over to me, racing each other. I pause a moment to greet them while Lance huffs and puffs. He’s no big, bad wolf, though.

  After a moment, I straighten, and Lance motions for me to continue with an impatient wave of his hand.

  “I helped to save people,” I explain. “I told Lucifer it was because their souls weren’t black enough, not dark enough.”

  Lance doesn’t react.

  “He could have stopped me,” I murmur, “couldn’t he have? If he really does know what we’re doing at every moment, he could stop us from doing anything.”

  “What’s your point?” Lance grumbles.

  “We really don’t have free will after all.”

  Chapter 14

  Lance sets his jaw. “We…”

  “We don’t,” I continue. “Does that mean angels don’t either? That everything is all figured out for us ahead of time. I mean, with what Lucifer does to all of…”

  “To all of what?” Lance asks curiously.

  I shake my head. Can it be that Lance doesn’t know? But he should know, right? I mean, he had to have known some of the other sons and daughters of Lucifer. He’s the oldest living son, but there had been sons before him.

  “What were they like?” I blurt out.

  “Who?” he asks, rubbing his temple. “And get your dogs to stop barking.”

  Demonfang and Shadechomp have been barking since they arrived. They know I’m agitated, but I’m not nearly as much as I had been when they first arrive, and I pet them to calm them down some.

  I pet their heads, which isn't easy. Neither of them is standing still, so making sure I touch all four heads takes a moment, but then they quietly settle at my feet, one on either side of me, almost like attack hounds.

  My lips almost curl into a wry smile at the thought, but I’m a bit too unnerved about everything.

  “You had older siblings,” I murmur.

  Lance stiffens. “I’m not going to talk about them. In fact, I’m done talking to you.”

  “Really? That’s it? You’re just going to storm off? And go do what, Lance? You still don’t have a plan, do you?”

  “I plan to get away from you,” he snaps, and he teleports away.

  Foolish demon. Like I can’t just find him the same way I did before.

  This time when I teleport, I bring the hellhounds with me. We’re right beside Lance, and he’s even closer to Bethlehem this time.

  He glares at me and starts to walk faster.

  As if he can outwalk us. Or even outrun us. I’ve spent countless hours with my hellhounds. I’m a fast sprinter. I doubt Lance does much of any exercise at all, and if he happens to, his won’t be cardio-based.

  “You want me to fail,” he grumbles. “Lucifer didn’t send you, but you’re jealous—”

  "You're so jealous yourself and desperate for approval that you think everyone else wants the same thing you do," I say, my tone almost mocking. I don't want to set him on edge again, but I'm bitter that he won't open up to me about our siblings who are dead, the ones I never knew and don't remember. I'm also still irked that he so easily got rid of my attack on him, not that I actually wanted to hurt him, but still. I'm no weakling, and I won't stand by and allow him to do whatever he wants.

  “Then if you don’t want me to fail, why are you here?” he asks, abruptly stopping and facing me. “Do you want to help me?”

  His tone… is it wishful? He would never stoop down so low as to ask me for help. This is as close as he’ll ever get to that.

  “I’m here because I’m curious. I want to see what you’re going to do, now that you have a target on your back…” I cringe. Oh, no. What if this is it? What if this is going to define whether or not Lucifer will kill Lance?

  Maybe I should help my brother.

  “Curiosity isn’t a sin,” Lance says with a grunt.

  “Isn’t it, though?” I mumble.
>
  Lance gives me a lopsided grin. I guess he figures I’ll help him after all, that I’m not a spy or someone willing to undermine him.

  “I doubt Lucifer would be happy if you pick curiosity to be your vice,” Lance says. “It’s not…”

  “Dark enough?” I ask wryly. “How is envy dark enough when you haven’t done anything with it?”

  To my surprise, he doesn’t scowl or frown. In fact, his grin grows. “You need to trust me, dear sister.”

  “Dear sister? Who are you, and what have you done to Lance?”

  “Lucifer’s mentioned a place from time to time,” Lance says, “a place he can’t go to anymore for some reason.”

  “Bethlehem,” I supply.

  “Yes. It’s… I can see why he wants to go there,” Lance murmurs. “I can sense the magic within the place.”

  I hesitate. “Yeah, I can too, but—”

  “There is no but,” Lance says firmly. “There must be powerful magic at work if Lucifer himself is kept at bay from an entire city. Let’s go and see this place.”

  “We can’t,” I inform him, but he’s already off and walking away, almost marching as if he’s planning to go to war.

  I shake my head at my hellhounds. Each head gives a yelp, and they trot alongside me as I hurry to catch up to Lance.

  “You think that if you can get Lucifer back into Bethlehem, that he’ll be happy with you?” I assume.

  “Exactly.” Lance beams at me. “You’ll help?”

  “I think you should maybe do something else,” I say slowly. “Kill the leaders of the main countries. Start an international dispute. Sic the vampires against the werewolves.”

  “That is so five years ago.”

  “The vampires and werewolves, yes, but the leaders…”

  “I don’t want to get involved with the humans,” he murmurs.

  Before we can reach the border of Bethlehem, I grab his arm and force him to look at me. “Bethlehem is a human city—”

  “I don’t care,” he says stubbornly. “I can sense magic there. For some reason, there’s power there. The city must not have only belonged to humans for all time. We can take it back in Lucifer’s name, and it will no longer belong to the humans. How dare they move to such a location when they don’t even realize what they are sitting on?”

  “How about we head to the Middle East?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “I said no.”

  “You aren’t my father,” I grumble. “Fine. I’ll head to the Middle East and start a war that Leo should’ve done. Or maybe I’ll just overtake a few countries and start to build an army and overthrow governments. I’ll be the next Alexander the Great.”

  “He wasn’t all that great.”

  “In your opinion. Besides, I would be Lydia the…”

  “Looney?”

  “I hate you,” I hiss. “Lydia the Lovely.”

  “Because that will cause fear to stir in the heart of men.” He starts to laugh.

  “Ah, but not all power comes from fear. What about blind devotion? Love? I think that might be even stronger—”

  “Be careful,” he says idly. “You aren’t sounding very demonic at all.”

  “How am I not? If I want to have devotion and love to the point that no one will question me, no one will even think to disobey me, no one will argue with me…”

  “That won’t ever happen,” he protests.

  "Why? Because I'm not Lily, so I can't inspire men?"

  Lance glances away.

  I huff and cross my arms. “I’m telling you that Bethlehem isn’t the way to go.”

  “And I don’t understand why you insist that’s the case.”

  Exasperated, I throw up my arms. “I’ve tried!”

  “Tried to what? Stop me?”

  “To enter Bethlehem.”

  That finally seems to get his attention. “You already have thought about taking the city back for Father then? What ideas have you come up with? I’m wondering if there is a witch who—”

  “I have no idea if a witch is to blame or not or a hex or some kind of deal—”

  “A deal?” Lance asks flatly.

  I roll my eyes. “Come on. You know Lucifer and his deals.”

  "Yes, but he only ever makes deals that are one-sided in his favor."

  “Yes, so if he agreed not to set foot in Bethlehem ever again, he must have gotten something significant out of it,” I muse.

  “No. It has to be a witch,” Lance says stubbornly, shaking his head. “All we have to do is convince the witch to leave Bethlehem—no. We’ll just go inside Bethlehem, find her, and kill her. No more witch. No more magic. No more curse.”

  “Except if she’s the reason for all of the magic in the place…”

  “She can’t be.” Lance disregards my theory with a shake of his head.

  “Fine. Go ahead. Find this witch that might not even exist. Have fun with that.”

  “You aren’t coming too?” He glances at my hellhounds. “Hey, do you think—”

  “You aren’t going to use them.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” I tell him smugly, echoing his words from earlier.

  Lance stares at me a moment and then shakes his head even though he’s almost smiling. “You’re aggravating, you know that?”

  “You’re only realizing this now?” I ask sweetly.

  He chuckles. “You aren’t half-bad, you know that?”

  It’s a compliment, an unexpected one, and I freeze. Has anyone ever complimented me before? When they weren’t trying to con me into doing this or that?

  But that’s what Lucifer wants. He wants us to fight each other, to try to claw our way to the top. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of our dead siblings might’ve seriously injured one another. Might one have killed another? I don’t know if it’s worse to think that Lucifer might’ve encouraged that or if he killed them all himself one by one.

  Maybe he’ll want to do a massive purge of all twelve of us at the same time and start over fresh with new children.

  “Are you okay?” Lance asks me, his head tilted to the side as he appraises me.

  “Of course I am,” I snap. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  I start to walk forward, toward Bethlehem, but he grabs my elbow and stops me.

  “What are you thinking about?” he presses.

  “Why do you care?”

  A muscle in his neck jumps. “I don’t care,” he says flatly. “You know, with the others, it’s easy to know what they’re thinking, what they’re feeling, what they’re planning. You? You’re a wild card.”

  "Because I'm not one-dimensional, you mean?" I ask sarcastically.

  "Are you… Really?" He closes his hands into a fist. "You think we're all so one-dimensional, huh? Yet Leo doesn't go out and start wars every day. Yes, Lena eats a lot, but it's not as if she's morbidly obese. I mean, she's close, but… Lara hasn't started a famine outside of her body. Lola hasn't killed anyone in forever, and Lily has been spending more of her time in Hell lately instead of with humans. She's not corrupting demons. They're already corrupt."

  “So basically, you all have a bit of Larissa in you, is that what you’re saying?” I ask, my tone a bit sweeter now. “So you’re envious of everyone, but you’re too lazy to do anything about it. Got it.”

  “I really hate you sometimes,” he grumbles as he releases my arm.

  “Better than you loving me.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  I blow out a breath. “A demon and love… don’t mix. Lucifer doesn’t love us. He doesn’t love any of our mothers. He just wants to use and abuse us, to pin us against each other. You never thought at first that I came just to observe. I mean, no, I didn’t come to help, but your first thought was that I came to spy on you. He doesn’t want us to trust each other.”

  “Then work with me now,” he urges. “Help me get into
Bethlehem.”

  “So you can help Lucifer get back in?” I ask dryly.

  And Lance lifts his chin. “Maybe we should first find out why he can’t get in. How about that?”

  I grin at him. “Now you’re talking.”

  Chapter 15

  A team-up between the eldest son and youngest daughter of Lucifer. Can there be a more unlikely partnership? Probably, but that's all right. I don't mind heading out there and doing things my way, and I think this will be great fun. After all, Lance isn't going to be able to get inside Bethlehem. It's strange, though, how he seems dead set as all get out to head into the city. I mean, yeah, sure, I tried to, too, but when I realized I couldn't, I just left.

  There’s no way Lance is going to give up so easily.

  And it’s not like I’m a quitter. I came to Earth to see the effects of my earthquake, and it hadn’t happened in Bethlehem, so I went to see where it had bounced off to.

  My hellhounds trot beside me, and Lance has to shift awkwardly over to the left, closer to the street so they have room. They aren’t huge yet, but one day, they will be. For now, they’re basically the cutest fiery hounds in the world.

  Oh, yeah. So far, there haven’t been all that many people around, but I tap into my magic and form a hazy glimmer over the hellhounds. It’s similar to a fairy’s glamour. Anyone who looks at Demonfang and Shadechomp will see them as regular hounds now.

  Lance glances down at them and jerks to a halt. "You're not too bad at that," he mumbles. "I almost thought your dogs must've run off and been replaced."

  I open my mouth to correct him then shrug and accept the compliment. Maybe I should just smile and nod. That’s what humans do, right? Can’t hurt any.

  Once we reach the boundary line for Bethlehem, I halt and wave for Lance to go on ahead.

  With all the confidence of an elephant about to cannonball into a pool even though he knows he’ll empty out all of the water, Lance strolls on and slams into the invisible but incredibly strong field that I felt before.

  Immediately, he touches it with his hands, trying to push it, move it, but I’m sure nothing happens.

  “You knew,” he accuses.

  “Why do you think I told you that you can’t go in there?”