Damned if I Know Page 2
But, when I finally really got stuck into it, the first on the list was a special present for Kyle. He’d been devastated when he realised that Ignacio had a pet. He hadn’t said anything outright, but I could tell that he wanted one of his own. And he had been very good to me since Drake first brought me to Hell.
I had no idea what would make an appropriate pet for Kyle. But Truman, as always, was willing to help.
“Did you want to get him something Hellborn or Earthborn, ma’am?” he asked me, mojito in claw.
“What’s better?”
Truman swished his drink as he thought about it. “Hellborn would be…somewhat hardier perhaps, ma’am.”
I nodded, thinking I knew where he was going with that. “Earthborn would – say, just as an example – only survive being eaten once?” I clarified.
“Indeed, ma’am.”
“Okay. Well, I guess that’s a pretty easy decision. So now all I need to know is if there are any Hellborn cat-like things.”
“Things, ma’am?”
“Creatures. Beings. Monsters. Whatever your preference for term is, that.”
He gave me a slightly sassy glance. “I can think of a few.”
“Any that would suit Kyle?”
“There is the Cat Sith. A soul stealer.”
“Would it then release the souls into the house much like an Earthborn cat with a bird?” I asked.
Truman inclined his head. “It’s been known to happen.”
“Not that then.”
“The Kasha steals corpses…which is not much better?” Truman looked at me like he was checking.
I rolled my eyes. “Worse. That would be worse.”
Truman nodded. “Extrapolating, that would leave the mandagot, ma’am.”
“Mandagot?”
“Indeed.”
“And what is a mandagot?”
“It is a great black cat-like creature. Mortals call them evil, though they’re usually quite tame by Hellspawn standards. Not known for anything inherently, although some believe them to be good guards. They originate in France, but I’ve learnt not to hold that against them.”
I thought about it. Kyle had a thing for cats. By all accounts – well, Truman’s – a mandagot would survive Kyle and his accident-prone, ‘taste first ask questions later’ attitude.
“Okay. And where do I find a…mandagot?” I asked.
“So, you do choose a mandagot for Kyle?” Truman asked.
“Yes. I think it’s probably the best I’m going to get.”
Truman’s now-empty glass disappeared. “I will fetch one for you, ma’am. They’re usually relatively tameable. Though, we may need to give it extra lessons–”
“Kyle certainly won’t,” I finished for him.
“Indeed, ma’am.”
“I don’t suppose there are obedience classes for mandagots?” I hedged.
“From what you’ve learnt of Hell to date, ma’am, what do you think?”
“I think less discipline is considered the better.”
“Indeed, ma’am. I’ll return shortly with Kyle’s mandagot.”
“Thank you, Truman.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
He disappeared and I had to think of my next problem. What to get Truman. True, he seemed much happier since he’d discovered mojitos. Or at least, more content. But it was still pottering around Mum and Dad’s that he’d been at his most content.
“Yes,” I breathed, thinking about it.
What was the one thing that Truman had absolutely adored when we were on Earth?
“Gardening.”
Although, how I was going to get him a garden would be an entirely different matter. I knew just the devil to help me though.
“Lucifer?” I called.
After a heartbeat, he stood in front of me. “You rang, daughter?” he said suavely.
I nodded. “Is it possible to build a garden?”
Lucifer looked around like I was mad. “A garden?”
“Yes.”
“As in for flowers?”
“And vegetables. And trees. And whatever else.”
“A garden. In Hell?”
I nodded again. “Yes. Is it possible?”
“Of course, it’s possible, Wren.”
I was taken aback. “Then why are you acting so…surprised?”
“I’m just trying to work out what my daughter-in-law could possibly want with a garden. You can have anything you want at the drop of a hat.” To emphasise his words, he conjured and subsequently dropped a hat on the floor.
“It’s not for me. It’s for Truman.”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, but I wasn’t sure if it was confusion or suspicion. “For Truman?”
“He really enjoyed gardening on Earth. I thought he might like to have his own little garden here. Something for him to potter about in–”
“I presume he’ll mainly be growing mint for his mojitos?” Lucifer grinned.
I smiled. “I’d be perfectly happy to leave it up to him to choose what he wanted to grow. Too bad there isn’t a rum tree.”
“Oh, we can make one,” Lucifer said absently as he looked out the front window. Or, what I’d taken to calling the front window. He ran his hand over his beard. “I don’t see why not. It’s a little unorthodox to have something in Hell for pleasure, but we’re nothing if not good at stretching the rules. Yes. We can build Truman a garden. Where were you thinking?”
“Where would work?”
“We can put it at the side of the house. Open a cavern up.” Lucifer looked up as though he could see all the rock above us. “Could add some grass, a nice patio. Would be lovely for summer barbeques.” He looked back to me. “What do you think?”
I nodded. “I think it sounds good.”
“Excellent.”
A set of French doors appeared in the wall to my left. Lucifer walked towards them and threw them open to reveal a big open lawn. It seemed to stretch forever to the left, but ended in a lovely little picket fence in line with the front of the house to the right.
“Now. Let’s get designing.” Lucifer clapped his hands together in pure glee.
We spent the rest of the day together, designing – and redesigning – the garden. Mostly it was the sort of things you saw in gardens on Earth. Occasionally, Lucifer suggested something a little more suited to Hell.
He conjured up some bubbling blood pools, a few tormented souls either strung up as scarecrows or in place of statues. After the initial shock, I started just looking at him pointedly. To which he’d shrug with a look of ‘oh well, I tried’ and make it disappear again.
By the time Truman was back again, we were done.
We’d kept a lot of the lawn. Lucifer had insisted that we have a small forest at the edge of it and I hadn’t seen the harm in it. There were raised garden beds and trees of the fruiting and general shading varieties. There was a comfortable little patio with a table and chairs to sit and drink wine with family and friends.
In one giant tree, there was also a treehouse which, according to Lucifer, was just in case Drake and I decided to get around to having our own little bundles of evil. He wasn’t even fussed if it was in the form of pets or grandchildren, the offer was there.
“Ma’am?” Truman said.
I turned to see him and smiled widely at the look of confused irritation on his face.
“What have you done?” he continued.
“We made you a garden,” I said proudly.
Truman blinked and looked up at me. “A garden?”
“For you,” Lucifer said.
“What for?”
I spread my arms wide. “For whatever you want to do. You can grow fruits and veggies an
d flowers. Or just sit in the shade and read–”
“With your mojito,” Lucifer added. “I even created a rum tree for you. Very proud of that one.”
Truman looked out over the garden and I wasn’t sure, but it looked like his eyes had become a little glassy. “But why, ma’am?” he asked.
“Because of everything you do for us, Truman. And if Drake’s made me a home here, I wanted you to have one too. I saw how much you liked pottering around with Mum on Earth. So, this was the best I could do.”
Sure, the ‘sky’ was still the roof of the cavern and I wasn’t sure that we’d experience all the four seasons, but it did feel less like we were standing in the bowels of Hell.
“Ma’am, it’s lovely. I don’t know how to thank you. And you, sir,” he said to Lucifer.
My father-in-law inclined his head. “You know I’m loathe to deny Wren any request, Truman.”
“Oh!” I said, suddenly remembering. “Did you find the mandag–”
A crashing tinkle came from inside and Truman nodded.
“I suspect that was it, ma’am.”
“You left it inside?”
“A mandagot?” Lucifer asked and Truman nodded again.
“Indeed, sir.”
“Why in all the circles did you want a mandagot?” Lucifer asked me.
“It’s for Kyle,” I explained.
Lucifer went from shocked and potentially concerned to understanding. “Ah. Excellent choice. He’ll love it.” He gave a single nod and looked around. “Right. If my work is done for now, I have souls to torture. Wren dear, we’ll see you and Drake for dinner?”
I nodded. “You will.”
“Excellent. Have an infernal day.”
“You too.”
Lucifer faded from view. The last thing to disappear was his smile, just like the Cheshire Cat.
“Do you like it?” I asked Truman, indicating the garden.
He gave a short nod. “I do, ma’am. It was very kind of you.”
I shrugged. “Not at all.”
Ignacio wandered out and looked around suspiciously like he was scouring for dangers and expected them to hide behind every tree or blade of grass.
“There’s a mandagot breaking things,” Ignacio said, matter-of-fact.
“Don’t worry about the mandagot. Have you cleaned the shark tank?” Truman asked Ignacio.
Ignacio’s response was a muttered grumble that was well recognisable as a ‘no and I don’t want to’.
“You’re the one who wanted a pet shark,” Truman reminded him.
“I cleaned it last week,” Ignacio grunted.
“Yes. And you need to clean it weekly. That was the deal.”
“How about you clean the tank and then we go and see if Cadriel will let you play with the weapons?” I asked.
Truman and Ignacio both turned to look at me quickly. Their mouths dropped open.
“I’d mention something about catching flies here, but I haven’t seen any outside the fields,” I said with a smile.
“Uh, ma’am?” Truman said slowly.
“Yeah, Truman?” I answered, equally slowly.
“Have you been studying Hellspeak?”
I frowned. “No, why?”
Truman and Ignacio shared a glance. There was another tinkling crash from inside, but neither of them paid any notice to it.
“You’re…” Truman cleared his throat. “You’re speaking Hellspeak, ma’am.”
“Have I never done that?”
Truman shook his head. “No, ma’am. To date, you’ve been able to understand it but you’ve never spoken it.”
I laughed at the absurdity. But neither Truman or Ignacio were laughing. Ignacio just nodded and Truman clasped his claws in front of his body as he looked at me. My laughter died awkwardly.
“Is that…is that bad?” I asked them.
Ignacio shrugged as Truman took a deep breath and said, “It may just be you’re home after all, ma’am. In tune with the…magic of Hell, so to speak.”
I nodded. “Of course. That makes sense. Right?”
Truman nodded his head once. It was somehow a very loud action. “I’m sure, ma’am.”
I looked to Ignacio again who just shrugged again.
“Go to see the winged git in half an hour?” Ignacio asked, already over whatever had just happened.
“If it’s going to take you half an hour to clean the shark tank, then yes.” I nodded.
“Okay, boss-lady.”
Ignacio shuffled inside. I stood outside with Truman for a moment longer. But he seemed uneasy.
“I’ll pop the kettle on, ma’am,” he said before hurrying inside himself.
So, I’d spoken Hellspeak. It surely didn’t mean anything more than I belonged in Hell. I was sure that was all it could be, even though there was this niggling little feeling at the back of my neck that made me feel uneasy. I didn’t feel like it was a sign the world was going to end – not anytime soon at least – or something awful was going to happen. I just felt like there was something going on that I didn’t understand.
I was thankfully distracted by a cup of tea, but that was short-lived as the mandagot batted it off the table as it stared at me like it dared me to do anything about it.
“Seriously?” I asked it and I could have sworn the giant black cat grinned at me.
As I opened my mouth to reprimand it, Kyle came skidding in the door, his snorkel and mask still on his face.
The room froze as Kyle eyed off the mandagot and it eyed him off. I wasn’t sure who was prey and who was predator.
Then Kyle yelled, “Kitty!” and threw himself at it.
The mandagot’s ears lay flat against its head and its tail swished slowly and uncertainly as Kyle hugged it around the neck. It looked at me like it thought I’d be able to do anything about it.
“Mandagot, meet Kyle. Kyle, this is your mandagot,’ I said.
I was sure the mandagot frowned at me, but Kyle turned his head with a huge grin on his little red, leathery face.
“Kyle’s?” he asked cautiously.
I nodded. “This mandagot is your pet now, Kyle. That means you have to look after it. Do you understand?”
Kyle nodded so fast his bat ears flapped wildly, hitting the mandagot in the face. “Take care of Kitty. Promise.”
I smiled. “Good. Now–”
The mandagot was obviously done with hugs because, in one smooth movement, it pulled itself from Kyle’s arms and swallowed him whole.
I blinked at it, not sure where to start. The smug look on its face seemed like a decent place, but checking on Kyle was probably better.
“Kyle?” I asked hesitantly, leaning towards the mandagot.
“Kyle okay,” I heard a muffled call from the big cat’s stomach.
I nodded. “Uh. All right then.”
I’d heard the stories about how Cerberus had eaten Kyle on numerous occasions and it was pretty clear he’d ‘survived’ those. So, I was almost certain he’d survive this one.
I cleared my throat. “Um. I’m just going to leave you guys to it…”
The mandagot licked its lips and I hurried out to see how Truman was doing in the garden.
Drake
It wasn’t the first time I’d wanted to stay in bed with my wife and I knew it wouldn’t be the last.
I still marvelled at the fact that I, the son of Lucifer, had fallen in love with a human. The proper kind of love where you want to spend all your time with them and just watch them smile for hours on end. As opposed to the kind where you just want to kill them and hug their entrails while you sleep.
I hugged Wren closer and dipped my nose to her neck to breathe her in. She always smelled like sunshine and warmth. Not the blazing fire of the pits of Hell warmth. The kind that gave you that settled feeling in the pit of your stomach, gave your heart a reason to beat, and felt oh so right.
If it was up to me, we’
d stay in bed all day.
Wren sighed audibly. “Yeah. Well, as much as I’d like that, you’ve got responsibilities.”
I pulled back and looked at her. “What?”
“What, what?”
“What do you mean?”
Wren turned to face me, a humoured smirk at her lips. “I mean I would also like to stay in bed all day. But alas, we can’t.”
I frowned as I looked her over. As much as I knew she didn’t like it when I did, I dipped into her mind.
Is he okay? was the only thing in there.
I had to ask myself the same question. I’d been sure I’d thought the bit about staying in bed all day, but maybe I’d inadvertently spoken out loud.
I must have. Wren couldn’t have heard it if I didn’t say it out loud. Celestials – of which Nephilim were only one species – were basically the only beings I knew of who could read minds. Minus a few of the older, more unique Hellspawn, there were currently only two beings in Hell who could read minds.
“You okay?” she asked me.
I nodded, but it felt stilted. I was okay, in the strictest sense of the word. “Just didn’t realise I’d spoken out loud.”
She smiled up at me and lay her hand on my cheek. She drew me down to her lips. “It’s not the end of the world,” she said before she kissed me gently.
But it wasn’t the kind of kiss that turned into makes-you-late-for-work morning sex. It was just the kind to make your heart skip a beat and your stomach flutter pleasantly.
I felt Wren smile against my lips before she pulled away. “Don’t you have souls to torture?” she asked me.
I sighed and nodded. “In a monotonous never-ending, day after day, line of souls, yes.”
She chuckled. “All right. Say hi to Rene for me.”
I nodded as I swung myself out of bed. “Will do.”
I looked back at her and groaned. She lay back against her pillows with a cheeky little smirk at her lips.
“That is hardly fair,” I told her.
She sat up, keeping the covers over her chest. “I thought torture was part of the whole Hell experience?”
I shook my head as I started getting dressed. “You’ve adjusted far too well.”
“Are you complaining? I could always sit in the corner and rock in panic for a bit if that would make you feel better?”