Lucifer's Queen: A Paranormal Romance

by T. O. Smith

  For Riley, my reason for everything that I do.

  May you never know the pain of darkness.

  But if you do, may you always know that there is hope – may you find comfort as I have.

  I love you.

  ©April 2021. T.O. Smith. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: www.getcovers.com

  Editing: T.O. Smith

  Proofreading: T.O. Smith

  ISBN-10: 8736150793

  ISBN-13: 979-8736150793

  PROLOGUE

  I was always considered strange.

  As a baby, I was always calm – never fussy. I was so silent that I wouldn’t even alert you if I needed anything – would never alert my mother of my discomfort, if I was hungry, nor if I needed a diaper change.

  The only time I made any kind of sound was if my mother brought me into a church.

  I cried the entire time.

  And it was never a soft cry. No; it was an ear-splitting wail – as if someone were physically hurting me – as if I was in the most severe pain. Some thought I was actually dying when I screamed like that.

  Even now, I could never step inside of a church. The pain that slammed into my brain felt like it was ripping me apart. And the voices in my head? They got loud – angry.

  I eventually learned to just stay away from anything holy and related to God.

  I had tried having friends growing up. At first, the voices in my head never made much sense. It was a bunch of gibberish – kind of like sitting in a very crowded room where you could hear voices, but you didn’t know what everyone was saying. The voices never made any sense to me.

  It was easy to have friends as a little kid.

  But the older I got, the clearer the voices got.

  And the louder and clearer the voices got, the more of a freak I became. I would respond to them, thinking someone was actually speaking to me. At first, everyone just laughed it off until it kept happening.

  It took me a long time to decipher between reality and whoever had decided to speak to me in my mind. But by that point, everyone had already abandoned me and labeled me as ‘the freak’.

  But as I said earlier, the older I got, the clearer the voices got.

  And the clearer the voices got, the more demanding and hateful they became.

  To the point that I became a monster.

  ONE

  “Bela, it’s time to get up.” My mother snapped as she stepped into my room. I groaned and shoved my hands over my ears in a desperate attempt to shut her voice out. The voices in my head fucking hated her. “Your alarm went off fifteen minutes ago.”

  Shut her up.

  I cringed at the aggressive command. I felt like the voices got darker and darker with each day that passed. Murderous thoughts often clouded my brain, and sometimes I found myself acting on them before I could stop myself.

  It was both terrifying and satisfying all at once. Terrifying because those voices could control what I think if they wanted and satisfying because it satisfied some disturbing bloodlust I had.

  “Go away,” I grumbled. I glared at her before I pulled the blankets over my head, hoping she would actually listen. I didn’t want to hurt her. I loved my mother. I never wanted to harm her, but sometimes, I couldn’t control myself, and it never helped when she just couldn’t listen to me and go the hell away.

  “Bela!” My mother screeched.

  Shut her the fuck up.

  I jumped up from my bed, my hand wrapping around her slender throat before I could stop myself. I narrowed my eyes at her as her face drained of all color, leaving her a sickly pale color. I tightened my hand as I gritted my teeth, watching with a sick pleasure as she clawed at my hand, her face turning blue. “I said to go away,” I growled down at her, not even caring that I was killing her.

  An ice-cold touch slid over my shoulder, that soothing calmness seeping into my pores, quieting the monsters inside of my head. I closed my eyes, a soft sigh leaving my lips. I had missed him. He’d been gone for a long time.

  “Easy, my love.” That deep, raspy voice drawled, searing hot air washing over my ear as he spoke, but that air never burned me – only soothed me and quieted my internal demons.

  I never knew what this man was – figured it was just another fucked up part of me that I had learned to cope with. But I wouldn’t question it, especially not when he toned down my craziness and made me feel somewhat sane again.

  “Release her, Bela.” He whispered into my ear. “Easy now; you don’t want to hurt her, my little destroyer.”

  I slowly released my grip on my mother. That ice-cold touch slid down my body until it firmly gripped my hip and gently eased me back from my mother. My body trembled at his touch, and I couldn’t help but to relax back against him.

  My mother stared at me with wide, frightened eyes, her form trembling as she stood up from the floor where she had landed. “I’m making another appointment with your therapist. Obviously, your medicine doesn’t work.” She snapped at me. She tried to sound brave and unaffected, but there was a slight tremor in her voice that gave her away.

  Sew her lips shut.

  I flinched.

  “Quiet.” That voice growled from behind me. I shivered. He soothed his hand over my belly, wrapping his other arm tight around me to anchor me to him. “Just stay quiet, my queen. Right now, silence is best.”

  My mother left the room, slamming my door shut behind her. I flinched at the sound. I hated it when I scared her or made her upset. She really did try her best to be a good mom. It wasn’t her fault that she got stuck with a fucked-up child.

  I was so tired of being so angry all of the time – so volatile. Why couldn’t I just be normal?

  “The voices should be quiet for a few hours at least.” That raspy voice spoke again. “You know to call on me if you need me, my love.”

  “You’re only a figment of my imagination,” I whispered. “You’re not real.” It was why I had never called on him. How could I call on someone who was just something I had created to comfort me?

  He laughed softly, and I couldn’t help the small smile that crossed my lips at the sound of his husky laugh. “Believe what you must, my love, but I am real. It’s just not time yet, my sweet one. But you can always call on me. I will come to you if you call.”

  My bottom lip trembled. “I wish you were real.” I choked out, hot tears sliding down my cheeks. God, I needed him to be real – to take me away from this place to somewhere I didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone.

  I was gently turned around, and those ice-cold fingers wiped my tears from my cheeks, those burning lips soothing across my skin after. I sobbed. “I know it’s hard to distinguish between reality and what’s inside of your mind, sweet girl.” He said roughly. I leaned my face into his touch as he cupped my cheek. “I wish I could reveal everything to you.” He sighed. “You need some rest, my love.”

  “Don’t leave me.” I whimpered. “Please, please don’t leave me,” I begged him, not caring how pathetic I sounded.

  “You make this so hard on me, my queen. I must leave. I can never stay too long. You know that.” He said softly, sadness tinging his voice. I helplessly closed my eye
s, more tears sliding down my cheeks. “If I could have you with me forever beginning right now, we would leave this world.” He promised.

  That sounded so sweet – and too good to be true.

  He brushed his lips to mine, and I sobbed, knowing this was it. He was leaving yet again.

  “Sleep, my queen.”

  Darkness – soothing, empty darkness – enveloped me.

  ✶ ✶ ✶

  “I understand that you had a burst of anger this morning.” My therapist said as she studied me. I clenched my jaw and looked away from her.

  She doesn’t understand you – understand us. We are a part of you. They can never fix you.

  I frowned at the voice, tears burning in my eyes.

  Was it too much to ask to just be normal?

  “Bela, you know if these outbursts continue to happen, we will have to put you back into the center.” My therapist warned me.

  I angrily jumped up from my chair, my dark eyes bursting with hatred and rage at the thought of being tossed back into that center. I had been tortured. I’d lost count of the number of needles that had been injected into me, the number of times I had been examined, my brain studied with so many different scans.

  They had even tried sending electric waves to my brain to stop the voices, but they only raged and got louder.

  I clenched my fists at my sides. “I’ll kill you before you ever put me back in there.” I snarled.

  “Easy, my sweet one.” That raspy voice spoke again, but he wasn’t touching me this time. I trembled, my eyes desperately searching the room for him though I knew I would never see him. “Sit back down, my little destroyer.”

  I dropped back down onto the couch without a complaint. “Good girl.” He praised, warming my heart.

  “I want to try a new mix of medications to see if it will calm down your anger some. Do you still hear the voices?” She asked me.

  I mutely nodded my head. “Are they still loud and very angry?”

  My bottom lip trembled as tears welled in my eyes. I wanted his touch. Why wasn’t he touching me?

  “It gets worse every day.” I choked out.

  I looked around, searching for him again, but he made no sound to alert me that he was back in the room with me.

  They can never fix us. Get out now.

  I stood up from my chair, ready to sprint from the room. Tears sprang to my eyes. Was he abandoning me? He always made them stop. They were still talking to me. I was so tired of hearing them. It was endless torture.

  “Bela, our session is not over.” My therapist warned me.

  My hands clenched into fists, white-hot rage suddenly rushing through my veins, making it hard to breathe.

  “Fuck.” That voice I had been dying to hear again growled. “No, my queen. Not yet.” Soft, icy lips brushed against my own, and everything went dark.

  ✶ ✶ ✶

  No one will miss you.

  I whimpered as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying hard not to cry. A week had passed since my meeting with the therapist. I felt like the medications only made me worse.

  Because now, not only were the voices in my head egging me on to hurt other people, but now, they were egging me on to hurt myself – to kill myself.

  And that comforting voice hadn’t come back yet.

  He truly was a figment of my imagination.

  You could slit your throat. Leave a huge mess behind for your mother to clean up. She’s always bitching about you never cleaning up after yourself. There isn’t shit she can say to you if you’re dead.

  “Please stop.” I cried, hot tears sliding down my cheeks. “Go away.” I whimpered. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Bela, you need to come down for dinner.” My older brother called out.

  “Go away!” I shouted back, not wanting him to see me so torn apart like this. Kyle was the only person who tried his best to understand me and not push me past my limits. It was like somehow, he understood what was wrong with me, even if I didn’t understand it myself.

  He opened my bedroom door and stepped in, shutting the door behind him. I shut my eyes, my shoulders shaking as I cried. “Bela, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” He said softly as he moved towards me.

  I sobbed. “I want it to stop, Kyle. Why am I so fucked up?”

  He sat on the edge of my head and wrapped me up in his arms. Kill him.

  “Stop.” I cried out, sobs wracking my chest. “Not him.” I cried. “Please, not him.”

  “Shh, little sis.” Kyle soothed as he ran his hand over my hair.

  Wrap your hands around his throat.

  “No!” I screamed. I ripped myself from Kyle’s arms, landing in a heap on my bedroom floor. My fingers flexed of their own accord, and I sobbed. “Kyle, get out.” I sobbed. “Please,” I begged him. “I can’t – I’m not in control.”

  He looked down at me with a broken expression on his face, but there was understanding in his brown eyes. “Sis, it won’t be like this forever.” He softly promised.

  “Kyle, go!” I cried.

  You have a knife under your pillow. There’s an artery in his thigh.

  My body began to move of its own will, and I screamed, desperately trying to fight against it. “No!” I wailed.

  That ice-cold touch slithered around me. I collapsed to the floor flat on my stomach as the voices in my head instantly silenced. A sob ripped from my chest. “Where have you been?” I cried. I fisted my hands, my shoulders shaking. “It’s been torture.”

  “I’m here. You can go. I’ve got her.” That voice rasped from behind me as he pulled me from the floor and onto his lap. I curled against his chest, my tears quickly wetting his shirt.

  “How much longer, my king?” I thought I heard my brother ask. It was probably another fucked up part of my imagination running wild and rampant.

  “I don’t know, but it’s still too soon.”

  I tightly wrapped my arms around the invisible man’s neck, not wanting him to leave me again. That icy touch ran up and down my back, calming my soul, making me drowsy. My tears were slowly stopping, my breathing regulating again.

  “They’re getting louder. I can hear them echoing inside of my own head when they speak to her.” The man quietly spoke.

  “I know. But it’s still not time. Go. Compel your mother and father to think that she is not to be bothered until further notice. She needs me right now.”

  “As you wish, my king.” I vaguely registered my brother leaving the room as my bedroom door quietly opened and clicked back closed.

  “Oh, my little destroyer, what am I going to do with you?” That voice rasped as a soft, tender kiss was pressed to the top of my head.

  “Love me?” I asked sleepily, wishing so badly that he was real, wishing so badly that someone besides myself could feel him, sense him.

  His icy-cold lips brushed over my forehead. “I already do, my love.” I couldn’t stop it. A small smile tilted my lips. “Sleep. I will not leave for a while. You have me for the foreseeable future, my queen.”

  “I don’t want to sleep,” I whined. “I missed you. It’s been bad.” I whimpered.

  His arms tightened around me. “I know, my love. I hear them, too. But I can’t always step in. This is the way it has to be. I hate this for you – hate having to stand back and watch them torment you.”

  “I hate being this way,” I whispered. “Why can’t I be normal?” I placed my hand over his chest. “I just want you to be real,” I admitted. “Why can’t you be real?”

  His lips brushed over my cheeks. “I am real; I’m just not meant for your beautiful, mortal eyes, my love.”

  “And it’s not time,” I whispered, knowing what he would say next.

  He sighed. “No, my sweet, it is not time.” He said just as softly.

  “Will it ever be time?” I asked him.

  “Soon.” That was all he said.

  I traced his jaw line, his form suddenly visible to me as a glistening blue line, but I could no
t see his features. I didn’t know where his lips were, or his nose, or even his eyes. All I could see was the outline of his body – as if he were a 3D drawing. It was strange, considering just moments ago, he had been completely invisible. But I didn’t question it.

  “You don’t know when, do you?” I asked him, my voice breaking.

  He pressed a kiss to my palm. “I do not.” He said softly. “I wish I did – wish that I could give you something to count down to when you can finally be mine, be with me where you belong, but I cannot. Perhaps because Father knows that I will be selfish and take you early. But he keeps boundaries between us. The old man upstairs always has a plan, and so far, I’m ruining all of his plans.”