Demon's Daughter

Content warning: mild violence

The sun made its first appearance of the day, shining light on my upside-down ankles. I would normally still be asleep at this hour, but instead, I was meters away from my cottage, practicing a one-armed handstand against a tree. It felt like an odd thing to be doing in the middle of the woods, but the strangeness of it was nothing compared to what happened this morning.

My dad came back from the dead.

Well... the land of the dead, anyway.

I swung my legs down with a sigh. When I was five, I caught a deadly illness from swimming in a nearby pond, so my father exchanged his soul for mine; my life was spared, but he was transformed into a demon with four arms and the head of a goat. He still looked like that now, but he had served his time, so his mind was his own again.

"What are you doing out here so early?" a voice asked.

I looked up at the tree. "Did you just talk?"

A nervous laugh brought my attention to the ominous figure approaching. Man, this was hard to get used to.

"Oh, uh... couldn't sleep, I guess," I said.

"It's not safe to be out here at dawn," he said.

I matched his formal tone. "Yes, I'm aware."

"Is everything alright, Delaney?"

My throat tightened.

"Fine," I said, then kicked myself up into another handstand.

"You don't seem fine."

"I'm fine, Reed. Just a bit busy at the moment."

"You can call me Dad, you know.”

My face morphed into a sour expression. Call him Dad? I hardly recognized the guy.

“Yeah… I’m not going to do that,” I said.

He looked disappointed, but didn’t try to change my mind. That was a good sign, I assumed. Maybe it meant I could trust him. Maybe it meant he was still a good person under all those stoney scales.

“I appreciate you taking me in on such short notice,” Reed said. “That was very kind of you, son.”

I coughed.

“Right; daughter. That was very kind of you, Delaney.”

I let my head sway back and forth. “Actually, I prefer Della.”

Reed nodded, almost apologetically. He was trying, and I couldn’t blame him for struggling. He had only known for a day.

"I have an idea," Reed said. "Come with me."

"Now? But I'm in the middle of—"

"Your training partner isn't going anywhere," he said.

I rolled my eyes at his chuckle. "Okay, okay. I'm coming."

Reed headed down the grassy path towards the nearest town. His eyes wandered from the ground to the trees, likely taking in all the changes from the last time he was in this forest. We trudged through the woods in silence for ten minutes, but as I stared at the slime coating my father's horns, curiosity took hold of my tongue.

“What’s the underworld like?” I asked. “Is it dark down there?”

“Not like you’d expect,” he said. “There’s a lot of fire, so it’s bright all the time. Hell never sleeps, as it would seem.”

“Why didn’t they turn you back into a man? I mean, you upheld your end of the deal, didn’t you? You were a servant for fifteen years.”

He scratched the back of his head. “I may or may not have skipped over the fine print."

I nearly laughed. "You signed an actual contract?"

"Of course—what's so funny?"

"Nothing, I'm just surprised the devil has a lawyer."

Reed smiled. "He may be the king of hell, but Joob's quite the civil man."

"Who's Joob?"

"Still not a great listener, are you? He's the king of hell. The devil. Lord Joob."

I blinked. "The devil's name is Joob?"

"Uh, huh."

"I—no. No, you're messing with me."

He chuckled. "Afraid not."

"Oh my gods, Dad. That's amazing."

He stopped walking. We locked eyes for a moment before I quickly looked away.

"Reed," I said. "I meant Reed."

We reached town minutes later. As my gaze panned across one side of the street to take in the familiar scene of the bakery, tavern, and various shops, my brain was flooded with a new set of questions.

"So," I said as we crossed the road. "What exactly did you have to do for Joob?"

Reed shrugged. "Whatever he asked, really. Shine his shoes, polish his castle, torture some souls..."

He noticed my alarm.

"But don’t worry!" he said. "I swore off violence the moment my own soul and mind were reunited. I will never again use this monstrous body to harm someone else.”

I stared at the lava coursing through the cracks in his fossilized skin. It was kind of pretty, actually.

“I don’t think you’re that monstrous,” I said.

We passed the blacksmith's shop, the apothecary, and the farmer's hut before Reed found the place he was looking for. I glanced up at the sign, then slowly pulled my lips behind my teeth.

"You brought me all the way out here for tea?"

"Tea makes everything better."

"We have tea back at home!”

"I just spent three days scooping dragon dung out of a volcano. Let me have this."

"Alright, alright."

Nobody screamed as we walked into The Early Morning Tea Shop. The other customers either stared with eyes the size of tree stumps or pretended to ignore us as we found a table near the back. I picked up the menu and the little pad of paper next to it, but before I could finish writing my order, Reed snatched the pencil away.

"Hey—what are you doing?"

"Changing your life," he said with a smirk as he scribbled something down for the both of us.

The waiter came by to take the notebook, and five minutes later, I was handed a small glass filled with a bright pink liquid.

"What the heck is this?" I asked.

"Iced tea," Reed explained. "Dragon fruit and strawberry."

I took a cautious sip. "Wow, okay, I'll admit it. This is pretty good."

"Told you so."

I smirked. “Never thought a creature of hell would know so much about drinks.”

“You’d be surprised by the number of coffee shops we have down there.”

Holding a conversation with him was easier than expected. As we enjoyed our tea, I told him all about my successful art career and my new gymnastics hobby. He asked about my mother, but I didn’t want to talk about her not-so-recent passing, so I begged him to tell me stories about the underworld. Most of his tales were pretty funny in hindsight.

"Wait, wait—you're telling me you entered a juggling contest?" I said, interrupting him mid-sentence.

"Yup."

"You. Reed Thineal. A literal demon. Entered a juggling contest."

"Not just entered. I won the damn thing."

Tea squirted out of my nose.

"Don't sound so surprised! I do have four arms after all!"

"That's cheating!"

"There's nothing in the rulebook against four arms!"

I laughed, then finished the rest of my drink. We said goodbye to the owner as we left the teashop, but we didn't get far back into the forest before I began to feel uneasy, like someone was watching us. 

"Do you hear that?" I asked.

My father stopped to listen. He turned sharply to the left before a new voice cut through the quiet.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the demon’s daughter.”

“Oh, no,” I groaned. “Not you guys.”

Six men my age emerged from a line of trees. Five had knives, but the tallest, Monty, was swinging a club back and forth. Reed, hidden by the shadows, growled, but I elbowed his arm to shut him up.

"Good morning," I said, keeping my voice steady; the weapon was just to scare me. He’d drop it and throw a few punches before watching me scamper off, just like always. “What seems to be the issue?”

Monty raised an eyebrow, as if I should know the answer, which I did. I’d already gotten the lousy speech about the balance of life and death and how my family had cheated it. 

As predicted, he ditched the club and charged. I didn’t move; the sooner he got his fill of my pain, the better. He landed a blow to my ribs and sent me flying into a tree.

"Fuck, that hurts," I muttered. Damn. I’d almost made it through the summer without a fracture.

I covered my face as Monty drew his foot back for a kick, but the impact never came. I peeked through my hands to see Reed standing between us.

"Don't you ever lay another finger on my kid."

Monty dropped his club as he stared up at the demon—the very demon he’d been shit-talking for years—in front of him. Reed hit his fist against his palm, then punched the bully with the force of a bear. The lava on his back surged, and with one swift leap, he had the man pinned down against the grass. Instead of hurting him further, however, he released his hold, offering him a chance to run away, which he and the rest of the group took immediately.

My father turned back to me. “Are you alright, Della?”

"That... that was awesome!" I said. I tried to stand up, but couldn't get my legs underneath me without my ribs screaming in agony.

"Whoa, there. Let me help."

He put my arm over his shoulder and hoisted me up onto my feet. He crouched to match my height, sharing my weight as we walked back to my cottage.

"I've never seen anyone more terrified," I said. “Is that how you'd torture souls back in hell?”

“More or less.”

"You're really good at it," I said, my voice hushing itself. “I thought you swore off violence, though.”

“I did, but... nobody messes with my daughter."

His scaly exterior was no longer off-putting. We’d both gone through transformations of our own while apart, but there was still a heart within him that I recognized.

"Thanks, Dad.”