Hell is a Harem

by Kim Faulks

  I swung the wheel and headed for the familiar city streets. There were no assholes haunting me, taking happy snaps every fucking second.

  Even though I hated every second of that, the loss felt like a slap in the face.

  I’m pregnant…I’m pregnant…

  The words echoed through me…if not Lucifer—then who was this fucking Jay? And why the hell did Lucifer lie? The notebook in my pocket weighed me down. I wanted to keep reading and unearth the secrets of my mother’s past. But Betty needed me.

  And I just needed to be done with this entire thing…all the lies…all the secrets—all the guilt welling inside me.

  Sounds like you’ve got yourself a night hag. Careful with that one, Lorn. You don’t want to be messing with her on your own.

  Night hag.

  The words sounded so familiar…but it wasn’t from any hunter’s handbook I could remember. I searched the days…and then the nights. Alma’s map on the wall came to life inside my head. The states separated by supernatural lines, and within those lines were territories…she had markers and names. I remember that much, at least.

  Night hag…

  The words were a punch to my stomach. The words had been right there, printed on the top of the map. I’d seen them…but didn’t understand.

  But what the fuck was a night hag?

  And why the hell was it after me?

  The streets blurred as I punched the accelerator and the speedometer climbed. Betty had taken on this new role with the kind of gusto that was electric, and when she mentioned she wanted to spend a little extra time at the office, I had no idea she meant like this.

  Sunday’s were unnaturally quiet at The Circle, and a perfect time to unearth a few dirty secrets. My thoughts turned to hidden accounts and dirty money—I wouldn’t put it past Horton.

  I turned the wheel and caught sight of the glistening beast. The Circle was more than my damn job—more than a damn legacy—to me it was hope.

  Hope for a better future and hope to bury the skeletons of my past.

  But as I pulled the car up to the curb and switched off the ignition, I felt the sinking feeling of dread take hold.

  I wasn’t Lucifer’s daughter. I wasn’t who I’d been led to believe.

  So, who the hell was I?

  Just a human. The thought of that was sickening.

  I doubled over the steering wheel and clung tight.

  No…no…no. That can’t be true.

  I lifted my head to find Betty’s pastel blue Volkswagen, and a thought filled my mind. Maybe she knew. Maybe she’d uncovered something about me?

  “God, please. Please don’t let me be one of them,” I lifted my head to the stained roof of my old car. “Are you listening up there? Do you even care?”

  There was a second where it felt like the world stood still. Where my world stood still. And in that moment, the emptiness consumed me.

  I stared at the building, and then at movement in the street.

  The wind whipped up outside. Leaves slapped against the side of the car and then were snatched away.

  A pale-yellow butterfly flapped wildly, catching the violent slipstream, falling end over end, before it landed safely on the hood of my car.

  I stared at its beauty as another landed beside it, and then another…and another, until the growing midday sun was swallowed by the flurry of movement.

  There were hundreds…thousands even, covering the faded navy-blue paintwork until all I saw was an ocean of pale-yellow wings.

  My chest tightened, squeezing with every heavy thud. I lifted my head and glanced at the ceiling of my car…had God somehow heard me?

  And in an instant, they were gone, swept away by a gust once more.

  I watched them flutter and then fall. I watched them slip away from me, lost to the world once more. “Okay,” an ache flared along my throat with the word. “Okay, I heard you. I can do this…I’m going to do this.”

  I fumbled for the door handle and then shoved. The wind cast strands of my hair into my eyes as I closed the door behind me and then turned.

  Whatever happened, I’d deal with it, and hoped to God above that the guys understood. I stepped up the curb and made my way toward the front doors.

  The keypad glowed green. I punched in my PIN and waited for the heavy clunk of the lock opening before I pushed through.

  The ground floor was hauntingly quiet…and dark. Fluorescent lights lit up the desks and reached halfway across the space. But the rest of the floor was left to the mercy of the tinted windows.

  I delved into my pocket, skimmed the leather notebook, and yanked my phone free. My thumb slid across the screen, punching buttons before the faint dial tone echoed.

  “Lorn, where are you, honey?” Betty roared into the mouth piece. I yanked the phone from my ear and listened to her huff and puff.

  “Ground floor, am I coming up to meet you?”

  “No.” She stopped, took a breath and then gushed, “Meet me in the basement. You’ve got access to that, right?”

  I flinched. “Yeah, I’ve got access.”

  “Okay, and, honey…you’d best be prepared for a whole lot of crazy.”

  The line went dead. First being arrested, then my father, throw in a night hag and one tiny notebook that turned my world upside down, and I was left with utter devastation. So, what the hell was it now?

  I lifted my gaze to the elevator. I could just leave, just walk away now and pretend none of this changed a thing. I could still be Lucifer’s daughter…I could still be the hunter—still be the lover. Still have everything I have right now. No one would ever know.

  Except for me…

  I’d know. That sinking feeling swept me away. How long would the charade last? A day…a week…a month?

  We’re watching you!

  An icy touch skimmed along my spine as the spray-painted words came to life. Heavy boots. Heavy heart. I took a breath and made for the elevator. It didn’t really matter what I chose to believe…the lying paparazzi were the blinding example of that.

  I punched the button and waited until the whirr of the motor came from below. The doors opened and I stepped inside and pressed the button that few people cared about.

  Lights glowed overhead, dropping from the ground floor and then the basement. No one went down here…no one I knew, anyway. It’d been years since I stepped foot in the dark, dank space filled with spiders and secrets.

  I was just a kid when they hauled cabinet after cabinet through the front doors and carried them below.

  Just a kid who followed in the footsteps of the mighty Alma Goodchild, and never once thought how hard that would become.

  The elevator shuddered and jerked to a stop and the doors opened to a darkened room.

  An overhead light shone further in. I took a step, leaving the elevator doors to close behind me, and headed for the glow. “Betty?”

  My voice echoed and then died away, leaving nothing but silence. And in that silence, an icy touch breathed life into fear once more.

  The mark on my palm warmed as I lifted my hand and called once more. I took a step, then another, staring into dark corners. “Betty, you down here?”

  “Over here!” she called from somewhere I couldn’t see.

  I flinched with the sound and strode forward. “Where the hell are you?”

  She stumbled out of a doorway on the far right. “Back here, place is a damn mess. I doubt anyone’s stepped foot down here since the move.”

  A slip of paper stuck to the bottom of her boot as she headed toward me. Leaving a scrape…scrape…sound with every step. She looked down, scowled, and then shook her foot.

  The scrap of paper came free and floated to the ground. I couldn’t help but smile. She looked so very different in her faded blue jeans and soft pink sweater—normal…while she did abnormal things. Like spy…

  Her brown eyes glittered like jewels under the faded light. She glanced behind me, and then bit her lip.

  “What is it
? What did you find?”

  “First of all, I’m going to have to ask you not to lose your cool.”

  I flinched with the words. Any conversation that started that way was never good. “That sounds bad.”

  “It’s just,” she stuttered, “it’s just I know how you two are with each other, and, frankly, I’m a little worried.”

  “Okay…when you say ‘you two,’ who’re you meaning, specifically?”

  She stared me straight in the eyes and then answered. “You and Redemption.”

  Redemption? What the hell did he have to do with any of this? And that pissed off feeling returned.

  Every fucking time I said his name.

  Every time I saw his face—I wanted to punch him, and fuck him, and not necessarily in that order. “Tell me, tell me now.”

  She swallowed hard and lifted a hand. “Now, these records are old. Very old. I don’t think anyone remembers they’re down here, and it’s only by chance that I found them at all.”

  God, it sounded like a set up to a very bad afternoon. I glanced past her to the dark room.

  “You’re gonna need one of these.” She moved closer and held out a flashlight.

  I grasped the torch and felt the weight. Holding a flashlight was such a damn human thing to do, and the well of secrets seemed to spill over inside me. “Betty...”

  She lifted her head. “Yes, hon?”

  “Was there…is there a file on me?”

  Her forehead creased, but she didn’t answer right away, only taking her time. “Not that I’ve seen, why do you ask?”

  I swallowed hard. “No reason. You wanna lead the way?”

  But she wasn’t so easily discouraged. “Lorn…”

  If there was anyone I could tell, it was Betty. If there was anyone who would understand, it was Betty. My damn fingers trembled as I reached for my pocket. “Alma sent me a box…”

  “Oh, dear,” her voice softened as she dropped her gaze, following my hand.

  “Most of them were grimoires, but there was this…” I yanked the book free and looked down. The red leather glistened under the flashlight. “It’s a diary…her diary. I haven’t read it, not all of it. But…”

  Betty took a step and reached out, but it wasn’t the journal she reached for—it was me. “Sometimes the past needs to stay in the past, Lorn.”

  I searched her kind eyes. Did she know? “But don’t you think sometimes lies need to be exposed?”

  She pursed her lips and then held out her arms. “Yes, which is why I called you here. Maybe, if you want, we can expose them together?”

  I thought about that for a second and all the implications that carried. Betty was the closest person I had to a real mother…did I want to put her in harm’s way?

  Fuck off Satan’s Bitch! We’re watching you!

  These were violent times—especially for me. I just couldn’t take that risk…not with those I loved. I forced a cocky smile and then a shake of the head. “Nah, it’s probably nothing, anyway. I haven’t even read the entire thing.”

  “Honey, if you want to talk…”

  I was already nodding before she finished, already giving her that sad, thanks, yeah, I know, smile just to move on. I wasn’t going to risk her safety. I wasn’t going to risk anyone I loved. Except for…Lucifer’s face drifted to the surface and I couldn’t stop the anger.

  Why lie?

  Why tell me this goddamn sad story if it wasn’t true? Why make me want something I never had before? I took a step and stabbed the button on the flashlight. “Let’s get this over with, yeah?”

  “Okay,” Betty answered and followed. “If you’re sure.”

  I was sure, more than sure. I was fucking over it already. I just wanted the truth, and yet it seemed to elude me.

  Betty placed her hand on my shoulder. “You might want me to lead the way. It’s a bit of a mess down here.”

  She pushed through, stepping high over mountains of papers. I swept the light across the stacks and stepped close. “What the hell is all this.”

  “Old hunts not entered into the system.”

  There were a lot of them, filled with good solid information that would’ve been vital at the time. I had to wonder why this information hadn’t been made available.

  “It’s over here.”

  The glare of the flashlight rose and then dived. Steel cabinets glinted under the shine until it settled on something shorter, heavier…not a cabinet, but a safe.

  The door was cracked open, but only darkness waited inside. Cold empty darkness that reminded me of empty eyes.

  Betty wove a path through the mess and gripped the steel corner of the safe as the darkness inside grew.

  There was something so familiar about it…

  Something that whispered deadly secrets in my ear.

  Something that pulled me back to that lonely highway where the night hag waited. I glared into the shadows and roared, “Wait!”

  Betty jumped at the sound and wrenched her head toward me. “What? What is it?”

  The glare of the flashlight blinded me, and then was gone, leaving sparks to dance in my eyes.

  “Just…stop, wait for me,” I barked and stumbled, momentarily blind.

  A boom echoed as I kicked something hard, catching the edge with my shin.

  Pain roared, buffeting up my leg. I bit my lip and swore under my breath, then lunged the last few steps to get to her.

  “It’s okay…it’s just files,” Betty murmured and yanked open the door.

  Metal hinges squealed, flooding the room with the piercing sound.

  And, as the door opened, it revealed nothing more than the empty belly inside.

  Betty crouched, grasped the long thin drawer underneath the hollow space and pulled. And at the bottom of the drawer sat one lonely file.

  The folder was thin, nothing more than a few slips of paper inside the faded cardboard cover.

  “I put it back just the way it was.” She glanced over her shoulder toward me. “So you could see how important this file is.”

  Something shifted in the darkness at my right…I swung the beam, catching the black, beady eyes of a rat scurrying from the glare.

  My heart thumped harder, punching against the confines of my chest as Betty drew the slip of paper free.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured as she held it out. “We’ll get through this together.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lorn

  I was numb and hollow, unable to feel the pain anymore as I took a step.

  Even from here I could see the familiar stamped Harbor Metropolitan Police statement. The thin paper was worn…and old. I gripped the corner and pulled it free from her fingers.

  First Name: Redemption Last Name: Unknown

  Species: Unseelie

  Sex: Male

  D.O.B: Unknown

  Record of Interview: Dated July 20, 1995

  Person of Interest found with deceased female, one human: Stephanie Goodchild, and was taken into police custody on July 19, 2300 hours, by Sergeant Thomas Stone and Constable Melanie Endicott. POI has refused to answer any and all questions surrounding the death of the deceased. Blood samples and scrapings have been taken and sent to the lab (Specimen numbers: CV56987, CN47784) and awaiting further results.

  I wrenched my gaze from the paper to find the shine of fresh tears in Betty’s eyes. The words didn’t make sense…Redemption…my mother… “I don’t understand.”

  “There’s more,” she murmured, and lifted the folder in her hands. “Mostly information about who he was before he came…you know, here. But the record is something I thought you should see for yourself.”

  The police record bounced and jittered in my hand as my gaze drifted to the open door. “The safe…whose is it?”

  “Your grandmother’s.”

  My damn knees trembled with the words. I closed my eyes and felt the sway. All these years…she’d known who killed my mother.

  And all these years s
he’d put the murderer under my very nose.

  Acid burned the back of my throat, searing and stinging, filling my mouth with the bitter taste. I lunged, stumbled, and dropped to the floor as images filled my head.

  I loved him. I made love to him—to my mother’s murderer. To the cold-blooded sonofafuckingbitch who told me he loved me, who begged me to be safe…

  Rage roared through my veins as my belly roiled and clenched. I gagged and coughed as a stream of liquid tore free.

  “Lorn, dear God. Lorn, honey.”

  I shook my head and shoved out my hand, just tried to breathe. “Stay away…please, just stay away from me.”

  I shoved against the floor and scurried to my feet, moving before I even realized, stumbling out of that mess of a room and across the basement.

  The sound of my heels were like gunshots in the large space as I ran for the elevator doors. Bright lights blurred as I stabbed the button. Seconds later the ding sounded and the doors slid open.

  “Lorn,” Betty called behind me as I lunged inside and hit the button for the ground floor.

  But I never lifted my head, never looked her in the eye…how could I, now?

  I’m pregnant…I’m pregnant…I’m pregnant.

  Not Lucifer’s daughter. Mother murdered by the man I once loved…probably deep down I still love.

  I turned into the cold stainless steel corner of the elevator and moaned. This wasn’t happening…not happening…

  The police report crackled in my grasp, drawing my gaze. Through the blur, I stared at the typed report. I’d forgotten I still held it, forgotten I still gripped the edges, trying my best not to crease or ruin.

  The elevator gave a shudder and then the doors were opened to the faded light of the foyer. I shoved off the wall and made for the front door.

  Where the hell do I go now?

  Hunt him?

  Kill him?

  After all, that was what I did for a living, wasn’t it? Bring the worst of our kind to justice. But could I do it? My steps slowed with the thought. I lifted my gaze and stared at the space, remembering the toe of his shiny shoe descending on the dollar that’d fallen from my hand and hit the floor.

  Redemption was everywhere I looked, and everywhere I didn’t want to look. But if he had a hand in my mother’s death, I’d show no mercy.