“Bet what?” I snap. “Your soul?” I perk up. “The ability for me to get into Bethlehem?”
“I can’t just wave my hand and make it so you can come waltzing in,” she protests.
I gape at her. “So if you could, you would make that bet?”
She's quiet for a long moment, staring at me, appraising me, critically analyzing me.
And then she nods.
Unreal.
“My siblings, do you really think none of them would have ever noticed—”
“It’s a tiny sliver,” she murmurs, “and besides, who looks at Lucifer’s offspring all that closely? You’re the daughters and sons of the Prince of Darkness. No one is going to question how demonic you are, so they aren’t going to bother to look and see if you’re only demonic.”
My heart aches, and I cling to that anger. I’ve never understood how Lani could be filled with wrath all the time, but I get it. I so understand it now, and I am more than ready to level Bethlehem to the ground. I’m furious and livid and… and…
She’s wrong. She has to be.
But why would she lie? Why would she think she could try to pull a fast one over on me? She's older than I am, mid-thirties, but she's not trying to pull rank on me age-wise. No, for whatever reason, she truly believes she's right, that I'm part-angel.
Could it be true? Is it true?
Maybe that’s why Lucifer hasn’t had any more children. Maybe he didn’t realize that my mom had some angel in her. All I know about her is that she came from Lilith’s line, so maybe that extra bit of darkness blinded even the Prince of Darkness to her smidge of angel-ness.
I swallow hard. “You’re lucky I can’t do anything to Bethlehem, and if you ever set foot outside of Bethlehem, you better watch out because I have a feeling Lance will not hesitate to kill you. I’m not sure what deal this city has in place, but I have a feeling you’re at the heart and soul of it all, and what happens when you die?”
Clarissa’s eyes widen in a classic oh, shit fashion.
“So I’m right,” I say smugly. “You made a deal with the devil, but you forgot about loopholes, didn’t you?”
“Lucifer does not have any claim to my soul,” she murmurs almost to herself.
“A half-demon whose soul isn’t his? Goody for you.”
Her eyes narrow. “Lucifer made a vow.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Lucifer doesn’t make vows lightly. That’s how he became a fallen angel in the first place. He was supposed to make a vow to a certain someone, and he refused. He’s the first fallen angel ever. He’s always taken vows extremely seriously, and he hardly ever makes vows.
Normally, it’s always a bargain, and deals and bargains only ever have loopholes that work in his favor.
But if he made a vow…
“He vowed… His vow is to be upheld until his last day,” Clarissa says slowly as she nods, as if she’s trying to recall what had been said years ago word for word. “He also said that day would never come.”
“It’ll come,” I say dryly. “It’s been foretold, but let’s not worry about that, now, shall we? But then, you don’t have to worry about that at all since you might well be the first half-demon to make her way up to Heaven since Lucifer doesn’t have your soul.”
She looks as shaken as I am, which should make me feel better, but I only feel worse.
“He vowed to leave Bethlehem alone if I did something, and I did it. With his saying he upholds vows until his last day… There’s no loophole. There isn’t one.”
I say nothing.
Clarissa shakes her head and smiles at me as she puts away her gun. "There isn't a loophole. Bethlehem is safe forevermore from all demons, not just from Lucifer. No demons can enter Bethlehem."
I maintain my silence.
“And there’s no loophole about who you are, Lydia,” Clarissa says softly. “You might be Lucifer’s daughter, but there’s some goodness in you.”
My lips curl into what has to be a chilling smile. “I dare you to come outside of Bethlehem and see if there really is goodness in me.”
I cross my arms and wait, but Clarissa doesn’t rise to my bait, just like I knew she wouldn’t. After a minute-long showdown, she returns to her car, and she backs away, making sure to turn within the confines of Bethlehem.
She might be willing to take a bet that I’m partially an angel, but she’s not willing to actually put her life in my hands.
The woman really is smart.
Chapter 17
The longer I stand here, the more frustrated I feel, the more I just want to fight someone, to hit or kick or punch. I need to find some kind of outlet for my stress.
“Come on, Demonfang, Shadechomp,” I call even though they’re right beside me. “Let’s go and see if we can’t find an isolated spot here.”
We walk. The dogs have fun racing around me, nipping at each other and at my heels, and I almost fall a few times from their antics, but they’re happy.
At least someone is because I’m as furious as furious can be.
How? How can it be that Lucifer stating that he will leave Bethlehem alone expand to include all demons? He hasn’t touched us all, clearly, or else Clarissa’s soul would be marked.
Who knows? Maybe the act that Lucifer demanded of her to keep Bethlehem safe caused her soul to tip over to the dark side.
Then again, her reason behind her making the deal—to save all of the lives and souls of those within her city forevermore—might have kept her soul bounding toward an ascent to Heaven after she passes.
“All demons have had their souls touched by me,” Lucifer told me, but he lies all the time. All the time. Did he lie now? Or maybe merely touching a demon’s soul doesn’t give him control over them? Or maybe her angel side shielded her from Lucifer. Or maybe he only touches the souls of pure demons and not half-breeds?
I don’t know, and that’s frustrating more than anything else. There’s so much I don’t know. Too much. Is that why Lucifer doesn’t have any of his children go to the demon academy? Because he wants to keep us ignorant? It’s not as if he teaches us how to do things. We have to figure everything out on our own. He’s not an absentee father, but he’s not a nurturing one, either, of course. He’s not about praise or gratitude or anything like that. Lucifer is all about himself and nothing else. Well, himself and his power.
It’s not as if I can ask him for answers. He’ll lie to me or manipulate me or gaslight me. The demon is incapable of talking like a sane, levelheaded person unless he wants to, and he doesn’t ever. Not unless he’s sweet-talking some poor fool into making a deal with him.
I will say that I noticed Clarissa deliberately did not state what Lucifer asked of her, the deed she had to do so that Lucifer would leave Bethlehem forevermore. It had to have been something major, though, something extraordinary. Even I can feel the allure to Bethlehem.
My gut says Clarissa probably had to kill someone. Who knows who, though, because Lucifer should be able to kill anyone he wants. Why make a vow—not even a deal—for her to kill someone for him? It must have been someone Lucifer didn’t want to have to deal with. Hmm. How long ago did this all go down? Maybe I could figure out who she might’ve killed.
But isn’t that sad? The fact that I can’t even ask my own father who he had killed by Clarissa so Bethlehem would remain demon-free for all of eternity? Not that normal fathers would do anything like that.
My father isn’t normal.
Neither am I.
Supposedly, I have some kind of deep, light secret within me that I didn't even recognize myself. Maybe it's not so farfetched that my siblings didn't realize it either.
My mother… Lucifer stopped having kids after I was born. Maybe… My blond hair and my glowing yellow eyes, have they been a clue all along that I’m not as demonic as the others? But not all demons have brown or black hair. I’ve seen some with red and dark purple and dark blue…
I don’t know. I don’t know anything about anything, not ev
en myself.
We’re marching down a street, having walked I don’t know how long. A few cars have slowed down, the drivers offering to give us a ride, but I have no destination in mind to tell them.
Eventually, the cars stop coming, and I debate teleporting to someplace on Earth where my hellhounds and I can be free to do whatever we want. I even consider starting a fire of my own just for the Hell of it, but it would have to be at a spot where it won’t cause a loss of life.
The saving of the people at the store we accidentally set on fire.
No wonder Lucifer had been so furious with me. My siblings might be ignorant as to what I am, but my father can't possibly be.
It's almost a miracle that I can set foot in Hell, given that I might be part-angel. That has to be proof that Clarissa's wrong, right? But Lucifer's not just a demon. He's a fallen angel, and he had been cast into Hell.
So angels can be in Hell.
Or maybe my siblings do know, and that's why they tease me. I can't really say that they pick on me any more than they do each other, though.
I close my eyes, and I seek out a spot on Earth that doesn’t have a lot of people. Bending down, I touch one head of each of the hellhounds, and I teleport us to the place.
It’s freezing here. Snow and ice are all I can see, not even any animals. The wind here is so strong that it blows snow off the banks, and I can’t tell if it’s snowing or if it’s just the snow dust swirling all around.
“Go ahead,” I tell the hellhounds, and they race about, burning some of the snow, melting the mounds into puddles.
As for me, I walk on the ice, pretending I’m walking on water. I set the heels of my boots on fire so that the ice begins to melt, and I try to find some enjoyment, some fun in this.
But there’s no satisfaction to be found.
I teleport back to where my hellhounds are, and I wait for them to tire themselves out. They should be able to have fun even if I can’t.
Once they bound over to me, having melted a good portion of both snow and ice, I return us all to Hell. A kiss on each snout is all the goodbye the hellhounds need for them to run off to find a place to sleep.
As for me, though, I hunt down an underling of my father’s, a runt of a demon.
"Go tell my father that I seek his audience," I say without preamble.
The demon underling nods and teleports away.
If I didn’t want to sugarcoat things and try to get on Lucifer’s good side so that he’ll answer my questions, I would just teleport to wherever he is myself, but no. I’ll go through the proper channel and show him the respect he craves.
Honestly, it’s already taking the underling longer than it should to get back to me, and I’m growing more and more frustrated by the second.
A half hour passes before the underling returns, and he looks a bit sheepish, but it's the nervous wringing of his hands that makes me worried.
“Well?” I demand. “I can go see him now?”
"Actually, the Prince of Darkness told me to tell you that it will be a while."
“Is that so?” I ask coolly.
The underling flinches as if he expects to be struck. “Y-Yes.”
I flick my wrist to send him away from me. Lucifer is playing games with me, and I am not in the mood.
Lucifer summons us at times, but here’s the thing.
He can be summoned too.
Feathers from an angel. I have some of them in my room. Lily gave them to me. She joked that she asked for the feathers, and the angel just handed them over, but I don’t believe that for a second. Angels don’t just hand over feathers. No, it’s actually a potent gift she gave me. I know better than to ask how she got her hands on them.
Fairy dust. Another ingredient. It allows anyone who uses it to teleport wherever they want.
A vampire fang.
A minotaur’s claw.
A mermaid’s scale.
Basilisk venom. Leo gave it to me. He played a prank and wanted to burn me, but it backfired. He doesn’t have the scar anymore, but he actually did for a while before it healed all the way.
Salt water.
Holy water.
Sage.
Scorpion’s venom.
Ground-up unicorn’s horn.
Fur from a werewolf’s first transformation.
Dragon’s breath.
An elf’s pointed ear.
And then a drop of my own blood.
It’s basically a potion I have to create, and I mix all of the wet ingredients in a cauldron first. Then I grind up all of the other ingredients and add them.
Three times I have to stir counterclockwise and then three times clockwise back and forth like that until I've stirred a total of six hundred and sixty-six times.
The black liquid bubbles and hisses all the while as I stir, almost boiling, but once I finish stirring, it settles down.
One last drop of my blood. As soon as it splashes into the liquid, it turns a brilliant white and then as red as my blood droplet.
With a paintbrush, I paint the liquid onto the floor into a star and a circle around it.
Satisfied, I toss the paintbrush aside and murmur, “Lucifer, come to me.”
Dark shadows fill my room, and I grin as the shadows transform into a black cloud, heavy and oppressive, impenetrable.
Slowly, the cloud fades away, the shadows returning, and then the shadows also disappear.
And in their place is a figure, tall, imposing, red-skinned demon, massive and awesome in his might.
Lucifer has come.
And he is livid.
Chapter 18
“Who the Hell do you think you are?” Lucifer roars at me. “I am not to be—”
“You’ve summoned me before multiple times,” I say calmly. “I need to talk to you.”
“You have no right—”
“I spoke with Clarissa Garcia.”
Lucifer lowers his hand. He had raised it as if he meant to strike me, and he probably wanted to, and I can’t say I blame him. What I did was spoiled and bratty, and I’m sure he didn’t appreciate it at all.
I can’t say that I rightly care about his feelings, though, which is rather demonic of me and not at all angelic.
“You went back to Earth,” he says, spitting out the words as if they are venom. “I deliberately told you that you were not to return—”
“I wanted to see what Lance would do.”
“You thought to babysit your older brother?”
“Oh, yes, older. Not my oldest brother, though, is he? But that’s all right. I don’t want to get into that.”
“Don’t you?” Lucifer growls. “We will talk about nothing—”
"You don't want to hear about your old friend?" I ask smoothly. "Although I suppose you could go and see her yourself if you want to… or wait. She doesn't leave Bethlehem much, does she? No? And you can't go to Bethlehem, so… That's a real conundrum, isn't it?"
“You need to curb your tongue,” Lucifer says with a snarl. “I am going to rip that tongue out of your mouth and shove it down your throat.”
“So you don’t want to hear about Clarissa. She told me something mighty interesting, but fine. Have it your way.” I mime locking my lips shut and throwing away the key.
“Clarissa… Garcia, huh? She married that guy after all.”
“Who?”
“Some detective she was dating. I don’t remember his name. Never talked to him directly, but he’s not important. He’s only human.”
“She married a… Does he know what she is?”
Lucifer holds up his claws. “Do I look like I’m in the mood to make small talk? I should flay you alive.”
“Could you wait for that?” I ask. “Because I’m curious. I really am. You’re upset about Bethlehem, and I get that. You’ve been locked out of a city for the rest of… all time. But… There’s an easy enough way around it.”
“I’m listening.”
“Just have the name of the city changed,”
I say, thinking furiously. “That’s all it would take, wouldn’t it?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I demand. “You’re Lucifer. You… You tried that already, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did, child, but it did not work.”
“I compelled humans to have the name changed. Their mail was all lost or rerouted back to them. Their emails were lost in the ether. They could not set foot inside Bethlehem while under my thrall.”
“Even if the name was changed, it still wouldn’t allow us entrance to Bethlehem, would it?” I murmur.
Lucifer shakes his head. “No.”
“And if Clarissa dies… will it end then?”
“I do not see why you should be concerned about her life,” Lucifer says dryly. “I assume the coward remained in Bethlehem while you two spoke?”
“You assume correctly, but I would not call her a coward considering she did something major for you, something that made you willing to give up Bethlehem.” I lift my chin, asking without asking.
“She did not tell you.”
I shake my head.
“So why should I fill in that detail for you?” he asks with a terrible twist to his black lips. His demon form somehow seems to loom even larger.
"You made a vow to her," I spit out. "You made a vow to her, and it affects more than just yourself. I can't get in. My brothers can't get in. Honestly, I don't think any demons can. Can vampires?"
Lucifer says nothing.
“Lance smelled werewolves inside,” I add. “Werewolves aren’t demonic, though, so they’re just fine and dandy. Unless we possess one, I suppose. What else can get through? Sirens? Djinn? Leprechauns? Angels?”
I’m breathing heavily as I ask all of this, and my voice cracks on the last word.
Lucifer just chuckles.
I hate him.
I really, truly hate him.
I’m sure there are a lot of teenagers and twenty-somethings who hate their father, but I loathe mine.
“Clarissa tangled with a lot of those, all in the span of a few months,” Lucifer states calmly. “She has a special hatred for vampires in particular, but I have a feeling that’s only because her experience with demons has been limited, given my… vow.”
Daughter of Flames: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (A Girl and Her Hellhounds Book 1) Page 11