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

by Nicole Zoltack

  “You never made a vow for me,” I whisper.

  “And why would I?” He lifts his chin, and he slowly reverts back to his human form.

  A warning bell goes off in my head.

  Does he want to make a deal?

  Do I? Isn’t that basically why I called him here?

  Lucifer steps out of the painted circle and eyes my handiwork. “Rather potent,” he grumbles.

  “Maybe I found my thing,” I say sweetly. “I’m impatient.”

  “And impulsive and curious.”

  “So you agree then? Curiosity is a sin?”

  “It can be.” He strokes his chin. “It’s all in what you’re curious about, and if that knowledge is… forbidden.”

  “The knowledge of good and evil,” I mumble.

  “Bingo.” He holds up a hand, and a pomegranate appears. “Hungry?”

  “No thank you,” I say dryly.

  "And you brought up that tree." He clucks his tongue at me. In his other hand, magically, is a knife. A plate appears and a spoon, too, and he gets to work, cutting the pomegranate and spooning out the seeds. "Last chance."

  “I don’t change my mind,” I inform him.

  “Suit yourself.” He devours the pomegranate, red juice dripping down his chin. Lucifer wipes it away and then snaps his fingers, and the plate and utensils all vanish.

  “Impatience… most people are. A fair number are impulsive and curious, too, so I don’t see—”

  “Anger. A lot of people have anger issues, specifically anger management. Oh, and envy is a big one. Lust… But those are all fine for my siblings, but my having three—”

  “You summoned me here because you wish to know what Clarissa did to earn Bethlehem’s safekeeping. Is that right? I assume she told you nothing of true importance.”

  “Maybe she did. Maybe she didn’t.” I cross my arms.

  “I will make no vow,” he spits out.

  “Let me guess. You haven’t made one since the one you made for Clarissa, is that right?”

  “You do not need to concern yourself with what I have and have not done.”

  “Oh, but I think you’re wrong,” I tell him flatly. “I’m the baby in the family, yes, and we’re demons. I get that, but I’m starting to hate being kept in the dark all the time.”

  “You don’t want to be in the shadows anymore, hmm?”

  “You’re the prince of darkness. You can keep your shadows.”

  “And you?” he asks, sounding more amused than anything, which, I suppose, is better than his being bored or annoyed.

  I hold up my hands, but I conjure flames instead of my typical energy orbs.

  “Flames cast shadows, you do realize,” he remarks idly.

  “Yes, but I control these shadows,” I hiss.

  “Oh. So is that what this is all about? Truly? The heart of the matter is control. Most of the other things your siblings concern themselves with rest with power, but you long for control.”

  “Control of myself,” I supply.

  “You wish to be rid of me, don’t you?”

  “Those are your words.”

  “Based on reading between the lines.”

  “Not my head, though.”

  “If I wanted to, I could read your head.”

  “Go ahead and try,” I spit out.

  “Who says I haven’t already?”

  I shudder, hating his cold indifference. I like to think I have enough control that he can’t enter my mind whenever he wishes, but he’s not just any demon. He’s Lucifer.

  “Clarissa has no brats running around, though, does she?”

  I’m a bit shocked by his question, and I shrug.

  “I have no idea. We didn’t talk about kids at all.” I turn a suspicious eye on him. “Why?”

  He waves his hand. “Mere curiosity.”

  “No. You already knew the answer, didn’t you?”

  “Ah, but you don’t know the answer yourself, so…”

  I swallow hard, rub the back of my neck, and then hate myself for showing a sign of being uncomfortable.

  Lucifer glances around. “Your room is messier than I would’ve thought.”

  There are a few clothes here and there, a few books, but nothing that out of the ordinary. My bed isn’t made. I’ve never seen the point. It’s just going to be unmade again every night. It’s bad enough that dishes and laundry are never-ending chores. Why add another one to the list?

  My bed frame is made from onyx stone, the mattress filled with feathers, the comforter as thin as can be. Most nights, I don’t even bother to use it. I live in Hell, remember?

  “How do I take after you?” I ask suddenly. “The others… they all look like you. Well, Lance has my eyes, but… Why are our eyes like this? Why do I have blond hair?”

  “Not all of you can be as attractive as I am. Sorry.” He smirks at me.

  “Did my mother have blond hair?” I ask.

  “You do not understand genetics, do you? Your mother might have had blond hair. She might have had brown hair. Either way, it’s possible to have a blond child.”

  “You still won’t tell me anything about her, will you? Why not? Why do you keep us away from all of our mothers?”

  “Your mothers aren’t important.”

  “If it weren’t for our mothers, not one of us would have been born. You’re powerful, but you aren’t a whiptail lizard. You can’t reproduce asexually!”

  “Aren’t you cute, trying to be all science-y on me.”

  I glare at him, my right eyelid twitching. “Don’t patronize me.”

  “It’s you who should appreciate me. Maybe then I would give you a little respect, but no, I’m not good enough for you. You have to whine and complain. You have to act as if I’m out to get you. Do you honestly think that’s the case? That I want to do you harm?”

  I swallow hard, the saliva hitting my stomach like a rock. I know what he’s done to my other siblings, the ones who died before I could have memories of them, the ones I never met.

  But I don’t want to mention that now. It won’t help me, and who knows? That knowledge won’t serve me well and just might be enough to make him turn against me.

  And maybe even kill me.

  “It’s only natural to want to know about your mother. I know you were one of the first angels, that you didn’t have a mother and a father.”

  He hisses.

  “But is it so impossible for you to understand and realize that we want to know about our mothers? Do any of us have the same mother? None of us? Are any of our mothers alive?”

  “You do not need to know about the mothers of your siblings.”

  “Then tell me about my mother!” I cry. “I don’t even know her name. You only ever told me that she… and I… we’re descendants of Lilith.”

  “That is true,” he says calmly.

  “What else? What was her name?”

  “I do not speak their names ever.”

  “Why not?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “Is there any truth to that legend about names having power over a person?”

  “If you have to ask, you’ll never know.”

  “What are you? Four?” I grumble.

  Lucifer just grins sardonically. “I know how to irritate you. That’s what I am.”

  I’m too annoyed by his attitude and treatment of me to hold back and continue to play games, so I blurt out, “You want to know what Clarissa and I talked about? Fine. Here it is. She’s part demon and part angel, right? Well, she claimed that I’m not all demon, that I’m not all darkness. She’s wrong, though, right? She said… She’s wrong. I’m a little human, right? I can’t be… She said…”

  I hang my head, unable or unwilling to repeat her exact words.

  “One of your ancestors did not marry a demon. One married a… Do you know what a valkyrie is?”

  “Yes,” I say slowly. “But don’t dress it up on my account, Father. Valkyries are angels.”

  “Angels of death,” he corrects.
“So the answer is yes, Lydia. You do have a smidge amount of angel blood in you.”

  Chapter 19

  I don’t know what to say. I’m floored. Literally. My knees shake a bit, and even though I hadn’t been standing by my bed, I sink and somehow sit on the edge. Did I teleport myself here? I don’t even know, but I must have. I doubt Lucifer would’ve extended even that small measure of kindness to me.

  He can dress it up all he wants, but valkyries are angels. Yes, angels of death, but they’re angels of a sort. And being angels of death, I suppose it makes a little more sense that one of them would fall for a demon, but still… A valkyrie and a demon. That’s almost as hard to fathom as an angel and a demon.

  So I have extra darkness from Lilith, and the light part of me is even tainted with darkness too.

  “My siblings… They don’t realize, do they?” I ask.

  “For the most part, I have kept that part of you suppressed,” Lucifer states.

  “You suppressed a part of me? You hid it from my siblings, that I understand, but you hid it from myself?”

  “Naturally.”

  “Why?” The one word flies out of my mouth as do a few drops of spit.

  “I did not think you were ready for such knowledge yet. Clarissa, that—”

  “It’s not her fault,” I mumble. “I… I’ve been thinking I’m different. I just… I had no idea…”

  “I preferred to keep you in the dark.”

  “Of course. You wanted me to be a perfect little baby princess of darkness.” I stare at my hands in my lap. They’re on fire again, the flames bright but not producing any heat.

  “I figured I would tell you when the time was right.”

  “When? Before you kill me?”

  The words slip out of my mouth before I can think better of it.

  “Why on Earth would you say such a thing?” he asks, taking on that smooth tone of us that he adopts when he’s bullshitting people.

  I smirk at him as I make the flames climb even higher, so they’re almost touching my chin. “We aren’t on Earth now, are we?”

  “I want to be proud of you,” he murmurs. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think that’s possible? When’s the last time you’ve been proud of any of us?”

  “When Lara was twenty, eight years ago, famine returned to Africa in part because of her efforts.”

  The pride in his voice is astonishing. He’s never sounded this happy before.

  It’s downright chilling, and my stomach churns. I’m so nauseous that I don’t even realize at first that I’ve changed the color of my flames to a bluish hue, not until I stare at the flames long enough that I can focus on their shading.

  “I want to be proud of you as well,” he continues, “of all of you. In fact, Lydia, it is my desire and hope that you will take the mantle from me.”

  The mantle? What in the world is he talking about?

  He can’t mean…

  No…

  No way.

  “You could not enter Bethlehem?” he presses earnestly. “You attempted to, truly tried to? Even if there was resistance, you could not enter?”

  “I tried. I can’t.”

  He mutters a curse under his breath. “I hoped… Ah…” Another mumble curse. “I should have known better than to hope.”

  “You hoped what? That my angel side would cause me to be able to enter Bethlehem?” I assume.

  He sets his teeth on edge. “I hate that a portion of the Earth is kept away from me.”

  “Well…” I banish my flames and rub my hands together as I stand and pace in a circle around him. “What will you give me in exchange for my finding a way in there?”

  “Power,” he offers without hesitating.

  I halt beside him, facing the opposite way from him, and just turn my eyes to look at him.

  “Glory,” he offers next.

  “Do I look like a glory girl to you?” I snort.

  “You could. Think about it…”

  “You don’t know me at all,” I retort.

  “Money.”

  “You seriously don’t know me at all. I might not be Lily, but I’m pretty sure that I won’t ever have to worry about needing money.”

  Lucifer grabs my shoulders and forces me to look him in the eye. Is there desperation in his eyes?

  “Anything you want,” he says.

  “Is that a vow?” I ask.

  He glowers at me.

  “A promise?”

  “I don’t exactly have the best track records with promises,” he admits.

  “Color me not surprise,” I say wryly.

  “Take it or leave it,” Lucifer states. “I won’t be making this offer again.”

  “It’s a huge deal,” I say calmly. “I’ll consider it.”

  “This deal won’t last long,” he warns, and in a puff of black smoke, he disappears.

  I blow out a breath. I’m reeling. I have the blood of Lucifer and a valkyrie in my vein. It’s not exactly something that I can easily accept. What does this mean? What can I do? Is it possible there is something I can do that my siblings can’t?

  Why would Lucifer come to me out of all of my siblings with this offer? Has he offered this to all of them? To me first, with plans to ask the others? Did the others all turn him down? No, there's no way Lance would've, but Lucifer isn't the happiest with Lance right now. He's too frustrated with Lance being so much of a yes man and unable to think for himself. Honestly, that's frustrated me about Lance for a long while now. He never thinks for himself.

  Lucifer definitely could’ve asked Lara. He was pleased with her. Yes, the famine started years ago, but it probably did some serious damage. She’s the only one he mentioned being pleased about.

  So he’s not pleased with me.

  Yet he wants me to believe that he has chosen me out of all of my siblings—those both living and deceased—to be the one to rise up and take his place? While he still lives?

  I just… I really don’t understand this at all. Why would he want me to take his mantle? Is it because he’s bored? Scared? But what could frighten him?

  What is it he knows that I don’t?

  Or maybe this is some kind of test. Is this how and why he’s killed my other siblings? Because they accepted his offer and attempted to take him up on his claim and he turned around and killed them for it?

  But the best liars are those who weave their falsehood and deceit with some semblance of truth. What if he truly does wish for me to take over all of Hell? Why me, though? That is what I don’t understand.

  Hell. It's more than a landscape. It's a whole other world separate from Earth, contained within its core, far beneath the surface. Lava is our water, and we can tolerate the heat like no one else can. We can handle flames, and there have been human stories about water-melting witches. Not only is that not true, but I have a feeling we burn so hot that if rainwater touched us when we're on Earth, the droplets would turn to steam immediately.

  But even if I want this, even if Lucifer truly does mean what he’s supposedly offering me, how exactly can I go about doing what he’s asking of me?

  Has he purposely given me a task that he thinks is impossible?

  What do you want to bet that’s the case when he made that vow to Clarissa? I bet he never thought she could do what he asked, but she succeeded.

  Maybe I can too.

  Clarissa has to be the key. If I can get her to trust me…

  But she won’t. Never. Not ever. All because of who my father is.

  Like I had a choice in that matter.

  In her shoes, I wouldn’t trust me either. How can I? How could she?

  And knowing my father, since he won’t make a vow with me, he’ll be sure to have some kind of condition on his terms with my taking over. Maybe I’ll get all of Hell, but he’ll get all of Earth. Maybe he’ll just want Bethlehem for himself. There must have been some kind of major magical battle that happened there years ag
o. Magical residue can cause all sorts of… not issues. It’s more like a power source of magic that can be tapped into. That could possibly explain why Lucifer has an interest in it.

  Not only do we have electricity down here, but Lucifer has his own brand of Wi-Fi too. After grabbing my cell from the pocket in my bodysuit jumper, I head to supes.com and do a bit of digging. There’s not a lot of chatter about Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, which disgusts me, but then I do see a few demons growling and complaining about how they can’t get there after some kind of hubbub with a demon named Govith.

  I can’t find out much about this Govith guy, other than his being dead. Maybe Lucifer killed him. Or maybe he was who Clarissa had to kill for Bethlehem to be saved. Maybe he was her father. A lot of demons tend to be ambitious. If he wanted Bethlehem for himself… But no. Lucifer wouldn’t have asked for something so… I won’t say trivial, but even the potential of the battle being daughter versus father just doesn’t make enough sense to me. If Lucifer wanted Govith dead, then Lucifer could’ve handled the demon by himself.

  There has to be more to it, more to the story, but I’m not about to head to Earth to see Clarissa. She didn’t tell me before, so there’s no reason to believe she’ll tell me now, and I don’t want to waste any time.

  I have to figure out my father’s angle for all of this. He’s not an angel, not fallen or otherwise. He’s a demon through and through, the devil, and he’s doing this for himself.

  Bethlehem is the key, but why?

  Exhausted, I sit on the edge of my bed and then flop back to lie down.

  It doesn’t take long for my hellhounds to use their snouts to shove the door open. Demonfang bounds right up to me, but Shadechomp, the good boy, closes my door before climbing onto my bed.

  “I thought you two weren’t going to sleep with me tonight,” I murmur as I pat them and rub their heads.

  They whine and nuzzle against me. Demonfang drops onto my chest.

  “Get off me, you big galoot.”

  Demonfang whines some more, but he swipes a paw at Shadechomp to try to get him to move, but Shadechomp remains by my shoulder.