Dark Hauntings: A Paranormal Times Novel

by C C Solomon

  I was an any type of liquor woman, but he didn’t need to know that. I nodded, and he poured me a glass and passed it to me before pouring his own.

  “This one is a good tasting whiskey. It goes down much easier than many others, with a tinge of sweetness.” He took a sniff before sipping.

  I’d have to take his word for it. I took a sniff as well, wanting to appear sophisticated.

  Herrod sat back, crossing an ankle over his knee and resting his whiskey glass on his thigh. “So, I’m sure you are wondering why I asked you to meet with me. I wanted to talk to you some time ago, but life became busy.”

  I nodded slowly. “Well, torturing souls will take up your time.”

  He gave a slight chuckle, and then his eyes became dark as he looked over at his expansive lawn. “Do you know that I used to be a slave on this very land so many years ago?”

  I raised my brows in surprise. I couldn’t imagine him ever being human, let alone a slave. He seemed so powerful. Of course, many demons, most demons in fact, began as humans. Through various reasons, punishment or trickery, like Yusan, they became demons. Only the ancient ones, closer to the time of arch angels, were originally demons.

  Now this didn’t mean that Herrod was not powerful. He was a King, after all. For angels and demons, age only played part of a role in power level. Herrod had grown strength in other ways. Possibly soul collecting or even consuming other demons. Rarely, demons could grow strength from belief and faithful followers. It’s what helped Lucifer become all-powerful in the underworld. I didn’t know much about Herrod or his rise in power, but I was very open to learn and maybe get some tips myself.

  Herrod continued looking out of the window. “I worked these fields my whole adult life. Before that, I was royalty back in our motherland. I was beaten, maimed, had my family torn from me, and called everything but the name I was born with.”

  My mind was a buzz with questions. I was shocked yet excited at the same time. What he had lived through and endured made him much more complex than I imagined. “How did you become a demon?”

  He gave me a slight wistful smile before taking a sip of his whiskey. “I made a deal with a devil. I’d collect souls in exchange for becoming immortal and protecting my people. And that’s what I did. For hundreds of years. I started by stealing any soul I could but then I became more purposeful.”

  He snapped his fingers and soon the sunny field of green and purple flowers became a black skied nightmare. People hung from crosses or by the neck on trees, spanning the entire field. I squinted my eyes and saw some of the faces and bodies of the men and women on the crosses. They were badly beaten and bloodied. Some had their mouths sewn shut, others were eyeless. Still others were missing limbs. In between the victims were several hellhounds barking and gnawing at their bodies. Every so often, balls of fire would shoot down from the sky and land on a victim, burning them alive. I could hear the piercing screams from the people all the way from our location.

  My body ran cold with fear.

  Herrod’s eyes were closed. He smiled and shook his head slightly as if listening to a masterful classic melody.

  Well, he was a demon. I supposed screams of tortured souls was like music to him. It was all nightmares to me.

  “Who are all those people?” I whispered, fear gripping my vocal cords.

  He opened his eyes and they seemed almost pleasant. Which made him all the more scary. “That is but a fraction of the souls I have collected. But those are my favorites. The souls of those who have murdered and harmed the innocent. Slave traders, owners, and hunters. Klansmen and other racists who have killed, maimed, and raped our people. Not every soul out there was one I captured, but the evil will always come to the underworld. We then bargain, trade or bid on such souls. Most know to send those types of souls to me, and I will pay or trade well for them. I don’t just relegate it to those from this country either. There is racial oppression and violence all over the world. And it has kept me plenty fed.”

  I gave a hard gulp. I had no doubt the world gave him enough power to thrive. As an Unseelie fae, I found his cause useful and noble. I only really knew the Unseelie fae and we were no fans of humans. Part of that was for the very reason Herrod hated many of them.

  Still, a field full of evil people was less appealing than the flowers. This was probably why I really rejected the demon part of me. The Unseelie were often referred to as evil fae but we weren’t. Okay, many of us were but many of us just didn’t like humans. Some more so than others. Some for good reason, some for no reason. I tended to just keep my distance from them. This is what pissed me off so much about Felix’s friends not understanding me. I struggled so hard against any evil in me. Meanwhile, Azrael feared Felix was letting it in but it was through no effort on my part. I was not the bad influence they believed. I never was.

  I looked down at my whiskey, thinking of my next question. I wanted to keep Herrod talking. I felt a burning need to know and understand him. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to tap into such power again, even if it was terrifying. “What you’re doing seems like a necessary evil to me. Literally. Is that how you grew your strength?” I looked up at him and took a sip of the slightly sweet liquid.

  Herrod tilted his head back, his dark eyes were filled with an intimidating intelligence that made me uncomfortable. I couldn’t figure him out or understand his temperament. For all I knew he was reading my mind. Heck, he could be controlling my mind. The slight smile on his lips didn’t help matters. “That was a good part of it. The other part was, my believers.”

  I scrunched my eyes in confusion. I’d never heard of a cult or group that worshipped Herrod.

  Herrod looked back to his lawn and this time it was pleasant and bright again with no hanging bodies. “Do you know what those purple flowers are called?”

  I shook my head. “Botany isn’t my specialty, sorry.”

  “Ipomea purga. Part of the morning glory family. Many also call them High John the Conqueror. That is the name I often went by to my followers.”

  I gasped in spite of myself and then closed my mouth with an audible click. I’d heard that name before, I was sure of it. Of course, without my memories I couldn’t place it exactly, but it felt important.

  Herrod nodded as if understanding my predicament. “I am not a religion. I’m not a deity. I have no worshipers. However, I am a folklore to many. My name has given strength to our people for years. I am a protector of our Black brothers and sisters in this country. There are stories and songs about me. It has kept me strong. And even as times changed and I became less known, I was still well known in the hoodoo community.” He pointed slightly to the flowers. “Many in the magic community use the root of those flowers to make amulets and spells. Others use it to summon me. A good portion of my business is through the use of humans and the paranormal summoning me or using the flowers for magic.”

  “That’s impressive,” I replied, because it really was. He was able to bring a long-forgotten folklore into the present so that he could maintain his strength.

  His eyes became gentle.

  I still found that unnerving because he was anything but. Providing a false sense of comfort was the easiest way to catch your prey off guard.

  “I’ll give you a list of resources about me you might find entertaining to read,” he offered.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” I’d let him believe I was falling for his kindness until I got some answers, but I was so tense I could snap any moment.

  “You’d think with the world changing to one mostly of magic that my brand of punishment would no longer be needed but hatred continues even if it’s less so because of race. Although that is still very much present.”

  “So, you take the souls of more than just people who have wronged Black people now?”

  He nodded. “I’d like to think I am the weapon of the oppressed. I am the karma set upon those who have harmed the marginalized. My hands are fine dripping in blood.” He grinned again, showing
his pearly whites and once again I was reminded that folklore legend or not, he was still evil incarnate of a degree I truly couldn’t comprehend. “Does what I say disturb you?”

  I shook my head swiftly. “No.”

  “You lived with a demon so I suppose you wouldn’t mind.”

  I leaned back slightly. Did he really know about me? “You knew that?”

  “I know many things about you, Francesca.”

  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised now.

  He gave me a knowing grin. “Francesca, do you know who you are? I heard you lost your memory.”

  I sighed. “No. The angels have tried to return my memories but haven’t had any success.”

  He gave a snort and a short shake of the head. “Not surprising. Your memories were already tampered with to keep you from your kind.”

  “Wait, so you know about my past and my lineage?”

  “I know everything about you, and I think it’s time you did too.”

  Chapter 16

  I finished off the last of my whiskey and put the empty glass on the coffee table.

  Herrod eyed the glass. “Need a refill?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks. I need to remain sober. Why do you even care if I know the truth about myself? That’s like being nice and let’s face it, that isn’t a demon’s specialty.”

  “Kindness is relative.”

  I scratched my head. “Is it though?”

  “Relative? Yes. Especially when the relative is my daughter.”

  Was he? Was he saying what I think he was saying? I looked back down at my empty glass and reached for it with shaky hands. “I think I will need another drink.”

  Herrod reached over and poured me another glass. A slightly heavier amount this time. “You look just like her, you know. Your mother, Dalia. It’s like she cloned herself. But still, you are definitely mine as well. You have the same temperament. Your mother was always so graceful and reserved. But you were a wildfire. Just like me.” He furrowed his brows and looked away. “I wish that I would have been there for you. I’m afraid I’ve never had the chance to truly be the father that I wanted to be.”

  “You didn’t raise me?” I asked before taking a shaky sip. Yes, I knew I had a parent for a demon. I didn’t know that demon would be a King of the Underworld who was also an African American folklore hero. Couple that with a mother that was a fae Queen and I was starting to feel like a bit of a disappointment in my current homeless, jobless status.

  Herrod shook his head. “Your mother and I were in love but we weren’t married. In my role I couldn’t, I can’t be in love. It’s a liability. And yet, she found a way to weaken my heart and I’m grateful for it.”

  “I was told I lived in the fae court. They allowed demons? She was a Queen.”

  Herrod sat back. “Yes, she was and no they did not allow demons. Our love affair was a secret. She even went on to marry a man who would take the throne as the King. Although she was the real power. All queens are in her court. But even then, we never stopped seeing each other in secret. And then one day our secret became a baby. You.”

  He gave me a smile that struck me as tender.

  If he was lying, he was a darn good actor. Then again, most demons were. “I assume her family wasn’t too happy about her being pregnant by another man.”

  His eyes cooled as he sat back. “They didn’t know you weren’t the King’s…at first. You lived many years in the court and then one day an enemy of your mother’s spread the truth. Even though her husband married into the royal family, no one was going to accept a fae Queen who’d allowed herself to get pregnant by a demon. The family tried to deny the rumors, but even the King began to believe them and then he and his cohorts began a campaign to get rid of you and your mother.” A tightness grew in his eyes at the memory and he gazed back out of the window. “You speak of demons being unkind, but the Unseelie fae, they are ruthless. No one protected your mother, not even her own kin. Eventually, she was forced to leave with you. That is when you entered the human world.”

  I thought about the family I could not recall. Had my own grandparents and aunts and uncles really run us off because they couldn’t stand that I was half-demon? Had my mother given it all up to keep me? So Marcus had to have known me from before but not while I was in the human world. “Do you know a fae by the name of Marcus?”

  He nodded. “Vaguely. He was from another royal family that was close to yours. You spoke of him often when we were together. I imagine you had a crush on him.”

  I twisted my lips. That wasn’t surprising knowledge, but I did learn that he was not my brother. Perhaps he wasn’t a threat to me. “When we came to the human realm did you join us?” I already knew the answer. If he had been around, he wouldn’t be popping up only now to talk to me.

  He looked over to me with pained eyes. “I’m sorry, my daughter. I could not. Our enemies were too powerful. It was safer for us to stay apart. Safer for you not to remember your past life or know who I was.”

  I let out a breath and rubbed my forehead, feeling suddenly tired. Perhaps it was the whiskey or maybe I didn’t nap long enough, but my mind was still working just fine. “You bespelled me to make me forget that I was fae and your daughter?”

  “Your mother did. She thought it would make things easier for you. You were twelve or thirteen going from living in a grand kingdom to a tiny two-bedroom apartment in the city. You would not have been happy at such a downgrade. But with a fresh slate, you were able to start anew. She was able to find love or something like it and he adopted you.” He spat out the last sentence as if it tasted awful and I guessed it did. He couldn’t be with the woman he loved and had to stand by while she married not once but twice.

  “How did she die?”

  Herrod rocked his glass slightly in a contemplative mode. “When the paranormal came back to the human world, so did our enemies. She was murdered. That was not long after the paranormal event.”

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my lids. I had suspected that my mother was gone but it still hurt to hear it be verified. Assuming, of course, that he could be trusted. “Why didn’t you show up then, after she died?”

  “My daughter, the danger was still there for you. I arranged things so that you could go back to the fae world. Just not to your family. They weren’t safe.”

  That would explain how I came up working for Misandre. I wasn’t sure he was much help in that department but I guess he could get a point for effort. “Am I still a danger now?”

  At this, he smiled again, sitting back. “No, you are a warrior. You require no protection. Seeing you on that battlefield was quite impressive.” I could already see his chest swell with pride.

  “Why didn’t you tell me then that I was your daughter?”

  “At the time, I was not ready to admit to you the truth.”

  I twisted my lips in disbelief. That answer seemed lame to me. Only a couple months had passed and now he had an epiphany or something? Lies. “You thought I was going to die in battle and you didn’t want to get attached.”

  Herrod chuckled. “There’s my smart girl. The thought was fair, no? The odds weren’t in your favor. At least not in the beginning.”

  I cocked a brow. Was he saying what I think he was saying? Did we have more allies than we thought? “Are you saying you helped us defeat the soulmates?”

  “No, the defeat of the soulmates was all the work of those children, Amina and Phillip. Such a waste we had to fight our own.” He gave a displeased, wistful look as he stared back down at his whiskey.

  He must have been thinking about what also ran through my mind. Both Amina and Phillip were Black, and so was one of the original soulmates we fought, Gedeyon. If I believed Herrod regarding his earlier goals, a battle between people of the African diaspora would not have been his preference. That only made it odder that he’d joined the battle in the first place.

  “So, you helped just me out there on the battlefield?”

  He gave
a slight shrug which I took as a yes.

  “Why’d you even join that fight to begin with?”

  He sighed and tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling as he seemingly searched for the right words. “Gedeyon had many negatives going for him, but he also had some good ideas. He was very adamant about stopping continued injustices. It was appealing to me to see two people of color, an African and an Indian, essentially rule the world. It felt just.”

  I rolled my eyes. He was reaching if he thought Gedeyon and Rima had been going to heal the world of racial oppression. They had only been in it for themselves. “Well, sorry we took away your would-be civil rights icons,” I said, dryly.

  He snorted and a part of me was pleased that I made him laugh a little. It certainly made things less tense.

  I couldn’t forget that I was sitting in some mysterious location with a demon King. “So, dad, tell me the real reason why you struggled these past months with contacting me?”

  His smiled relaxed and he took another sip of his drink before speaking. “I have lived most of my days since my mortal death as something different. I adopted a new name that signified my change. Being a father was too reminiscent of my old life. I no longer could afford that luxury.”

  “So then why tell me now?”

  “Because I see you wasting your life. You are meant for greatness, only now I see you working for the angels like some sort of lackey.” Darkness filled his eyes. “Never trust the angels.”

  “Says the demon.” How the hell did he even know what I’d been doing? My mind went to Yusan. What if that little demon spirit was actually a spying flunky for Herrod?

  He ignored my remark and continued. “I’ve been following you for a while now, especially since magic returned. You are bigger than what the angels would have you be.”

  “They are helping me get my memories.”

  “At a price.”

  “Isn’t everything?” I shrugged. What was his deal? Right now, my plan for my future was all I had going. Did he want me to leave the others and rule in the underworld with him? “What do you want me to do? Stay here and have you make up for lost time?”