For Hell's Sake (Queen of the Underworld Series Book 1)

by T. L. Anderson

  For Hell’s Sake

  T.L. Anderson

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Dear Readers

  Also by T.L. Anderson

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

  FOR HELL’S SAKE

  By T. L. Anderson Copyright© 2019 by T. L. Anderson

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This Book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This Book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the written permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law.

  Cover Designer: Opium House Creatives

  Formatter: Keyminor Publishing

  Editor: Edit for Content

  Proofreader: One Love Editing

  Dedicated to all those who feel lost

  in their current lives or career.

  Be like Lucia—make your

  dreams come true

  and set the world on fire.

  (Not literally on fire though.)

  1

  Tossing a fireball into the air, I watch as it slowly fizzles out before hitting my hand. The red-and-blue flames glow softly amongst the mural of gardens I painted on the walls and the green carpet I outfitted my office in. As the years go by, my magic gets weaker. I suppose it’s from being slack in my job duties, but honestly I don’t care. I just want to run away and enjoy a life not trapped in the pits of Hell.

  The souls down here say that up on Earth there are whispers about the halls of Hell being full of burning corpses, punishing the evil of the world. I’ve heard rumors that there’s constant screams ringing out. They make it sound like an awful place, and it probably is for the souls that end up here. Being the devil though, it’s just another day in a prison cell for me. Okay, so maybe not a literal cell. I can roam the halls, torture souls, even pester the lazy-ass demons when I want to. But, I can’t leave Hell either. Nope, another great gift from dear old Dad.

  Honestly though, it’s not all blood, gore, and guts. I used to not let the rumors bother me; I didn’t allow the sadness to bury deep in my thoughts regarding the fear humans have just by mentioning my name or their paralyzing fear surrounding the devil. But of course, humans got almost everything wrong in the holier-than-thou book my father told them to write. It was written mostly as his way of punishing me. He enjoys seeing me alone and barely known as an individual. I mean, come on, the humans don’t even know I’m a freaking woman.

  I suppose I shouldn’t have tempted his little playthings in the beginning, but how was I supposed to know he’d go apeshit and let sin spread throughout the world? Besides, Adam was an ass to begin with; he controlled Eve with an iron fist. She was scared of him, hiding in the shadows when she should have been enjoying the garden Father built for them. If someone wouldn’t have tempted Adam, he would have been corrupt anyhow—I just moved the process on a bit quicker. Poor Eve was stuck with him for eternity in that garden, and he treated her like shit.

  Tossing another fireball, I watch as the red flames lick at the ceiling above, wishing I could make it all the way up to Heaven with it as a screw you sign to Dad. Through the years I’ve come to the conclusion that men are always thinking they’re better than women. The souls all say it; Adam obviously thought it. Humans are cruel, but add in the woman-hating aspect and it boils my blood. I had to snuff out that misogynistic crap in the beginning. Or at least I tried to. I guess I could have done it in a better way; apparently the torture I tried to place on Adam didn’t do shit. Human men are still assholes, and not a single lesson was learned. All anyone ever focuses on in that story is me and my role. Of course, it’s all my fault. Whatever, let them blame me.

  I stand up off the floor where I was sitting cross-legged and narrow my eyes at the copy of the book Dad left me as a reminder of what I did. I knew Dad had a temper, but he really needs to get over this grudge he’s carrying toward me. Casting me out of Heaven wasn’t enough; now I’m stuck down here watching after his defected souls. The ones not allowed to go up. Sin’s a bitch I guess, but I can be a bigger one when needed to keep the souls in line.

  I glance down at my tightly drawn, hot pink corset, black leather pants, and my knee-high black boots that lace up the back. Out of everything I don’t have access to down here, at least I have some decent sexy clothes. If I’m going to be stuck ruling down in the hellfires, then I’m going to at least look hot while I do it. A sharp knock at the door pulls my attention away from my killer shoes—literally they can kill because I had poison built in the tips of the heels for the truly horrendous souls.

  “What?” I call out as I walk across the room to grab my hellhound, Mr. Pickles, before he freaks out at the intrusion. I named him after the one food on Earth I really want to try. Apparently, from the stories I heard, it’s a shriveled-up cucumber in spicy juice or something. Anything shriveled up that looks like the male anatomy makes me giggle, so of course, I have to try one someday. If I ever make it out of this place.

  “It’s me, Levi, Your Highness. Can I come in?”

  I roll my eyes at his obvious attempt to rile me up with the whole Your Highness shit. He knows damn well after being here with me since almost the beginning of time that I don’t take kindly to that bullshit. The way he says it has a hint of sarcasm laced throughout. Crossing the room in three short steps, I fling open the door. I put my hellhound down between us. One word is all I have to say and my pooch will tear Levi to bits. One plus to being the queen of the underworld, my dogs can permanently kill any being, including a prince of Hell, like the one standing before me.

  Levi’s blue eyes shift to the dog, and his cocky grin slips off his face. Good. He doesn’t look like what you’d picture a prince of Hell to look like. He doesn’t have red eyes like a demon or a crown on his head. Not unless you piss him off, then he can be a fucking scary monster. Something you only see in nightmares.

  He’s wearing dark jeans with a bright-ass blue polo shirt—definitely not the dress code I put into place for them—and black boots. My eyes narrow as I take in his ensemble. The blue shirt does go well with his tousled blonde hair and eyes, but that’s not the point. I can’t even get my workers to follow the rules down
here. This whole ruler of Hell thing feels like a joke.

  “What are you wearing?” I take another look at him and notice he still hasn’t moved his eyes away from Mr. Pickles. What a chicken. “You’re supposed to be in all black like the dress code states. No one, not even one of the princes of hell, should be wearing bright-ass colors that remind the souls of happier times. Your shirt looks like the sky above puked on you.” I tap my toe and stare up at him.

  I’m not usually this big of a bitch, but everything seems to be too much for me today. I just want one thing to go right in Hell. Something to not mock me at every turn to remind me of my failures centuries ago.

  He doesn’t speak. His eyes stay focused on Mr. Pickles, who is currently growling low in his throat at him.

  “Oh, for Hell’s sake.” I reach down and pick up the ten-pound white ball of fur. I could have had vicious-looking dogs with three heads or whatever I wanted, but this tiny furball Pomeranian stole my heart the moment I saw him. Plus, who wants to pick up giant dog poop? This place is full of torture daily—no need to add to it.

  I place Mr. Pickles down on his purple four-post dog bed, and he snuggles up into his moose stuffed animal, falling asleep almost immediately. Thanks, bud. Real freaking vicious I see.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness, I wasn’t on duty down here today. It won’t happen again.”

  I glance over at him, and his face is blank, no affliction or fear in his eyes. No, he’s all business now, and my heart drops a little at the lost chance for actual communication with someone else. Maybe I shouldn’t be such a raging bitch at the first visitor I’ve had in so long. “Can’t you call me Lucia like we talked about, oh, I don’t know, maybe a thousand times? For fuck’s sake, does everyone around here just ignore my wishes?”

  He doesn’t move except a slight head nod acknowledging me. His hands are crossed behind his back and his feet slightly apart, a military pose almost.

  “Wait a freaking minute, what do you mean you’re not on duty today down here?” His words finally catch up to my brain waves. “Where else would you be on duty?” His eyes widen, but he catches it quickly. Unfortunately for him, not fast enough.

  “I’m not on duty, here or anywhere. I just…shit,” he mumbles. “Lex is way better at this.”

  I should have known all four of them were up to something. It’s not every day one of the princes walk into my office. In fact, I have had limited interaction with them for the last few months. Nothing more than in passing when I drop off a soul or two to their respective posts they watch. With Levi showing up, I should have known something was going on, but I was too preoccupied with my own internal issues. I shouldn’t have let my mind wander and should have actually done some rounds this morning through the different levels. This is probably why dear old Dad left me down here with them. He knew I’d go crazy alone, but it’s not like the four princes of Hell are much entertainment either. In fact they’re a huge pain in my ass currently.

  2

  Walking across the soft, plush green carpet in my office, I grab the phone off the wall and push a few buttons before hanging up. If Lex is better at this, then he can get his ass in here too. Lex appears at the door almost immediately with a raised eyebrow. I hate when they do that teleporting shit. It always freaks me out when no one’s there, then poof, they’re right next to you.

  Levi gives him a quick head shake, causing Lex’s features to harden into a stone wall, not giving anything away. He’s wearing black jeans and a red T-shirt with a skull and crossbones on the shirtsleeve. I roll my eyes at his attire, and without saying a word, I summon the remaining two princes to my office.

  Lex stands a head taller than myself. His coffee-brown hair is short on the sides but longer on top, which reaches the tops of his eyebrows, unstyled, in a sexy disheveled look. Heat dances across my skin as I pull my gaze away from him. Maybe the hellfires are still following him from his post, caressing the air around us. That’s probably what’s causing my skin to feel like molten lava.

  The other two, Ryce and Aries, appear out of thin air. Ryce is dressed in all black; even his dark black hair is cut short against his head. His obsidian eyes take in his surroundings as he leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. His build is larger than the others, the muscles pulling at the seams of his shirt as he shifts his weight. The tattoos covering his forearms show his history entwining with his future like a sad poem all the way up his arm and under his shirt.

  Aries steps in front of the rest, his arms crossed, his tan skin a dark contrast to the pristine white shirt he’s wearing. I look up at his chestnut-brown hair that is tousled at the top. Normally he styles it just perfectly, not a hair out of place on his head. I think I like this look better though. It makes my stomach flutter just looking at him. His sea-glass-colored eyes watch me with an intensity that all thoughts fall from my head. I stare at him, trying to remember why I called all four massive and intrusive princes into my office. When I sent them to their own wings to rule, interaction between us started to fizzle out. They’re the protectors of the underworld, the ones that keep the souls from escaping.

  Ryce watches over the east wing. The east is for souls that will never be redeemable—pedophiles and murderers, mostly. He’s the scariest of the four princes, the one who will enjoy ripping the skin off of a soul, then slowly doing it again every hour. If I was sentenced to Hell, I wouldn’t want to be under his watch.

  Lex is the north wing. He watches over the semi-offenders: the embezzlers, adulterers, and the ones who took a wrong path in life and didn’t repent. His treatments are more just, not as gruesome as Ryce’s. He’s currently torturing a poor embezzling soul by making him do accounting all day long for us. But every eight hours the numbers disappear and all the hard work he put in is gone, and he has to start over again. So far, he’s on the second decade of his punishment.

  Levi is the west. He gets the few celebrities, politicians, and others who sinned severely up above but don’t think they did anything wrong. He enjoys toying with them, making them do the piddly work they used to have servants do. Cleaning up after a dinner meal for demons is not a pretty sight—the few body parts and blood tend to stain the tables and floors.

  Demons are beastly things, with black charred skin and teeth as sharp as razors. They’re the ones who carry out the punishments daily. Gross little suckers, but necessary to keep things running around here.

  Aries runs the south wing. The souls who will never be released. Most souls after a few centuries repent and get a chance to move up above again. They’re taken to the golden gates, the only way into heaven from down here. If they open, they can go on up and be done with repenting. If not, well, they’re stuck with one of these four assholes in front of me for a few more centuries.

  The south wing consists of the worst of the worst. The serial killers, mass murderers—the souls that have a touch of demon blood in them. We call them the deaders. These abominations were created by our lovely friend Lilith. She thought it would be funny to have demons running around causing havoc on God’s creation. I suppose as a spurned lover she was trying to get back at my father. She knew demons couldn’t walk on Earth without one of the angels seeing them and casting them back to Hell. So, she creates a select few poor souls who could have cured cancer or ended world famine and turns them evil. One little prick from her finger is all that’s needed for the demon blood to infect their souls completely.

  I saw one once, a soul infected. It was a mass of black smoke with gray skin dangling off its limbs. Its eyes were yellow with red circles around where their eyelids should be. It freaked me out, which, being the queen of Hell, shouldn’t happen, but after that I never stepped foot in the south wing again. Nope, I’ll leave that to the scary jackass in front of me.

  Aries’ eyes narrow, his posture stiff like he’s ready for a fight. I’m tempted to call Mr. Pickles over and have him sit and growl in front of him, but the effect would be lost on this prince. He isn’t sc
ared of hellhounds. In fact, I think he knows I would never wipe any of them from existence. They’re the only other humanlike fallen angels down here with me. No way in hell would I lose the only other creatures like me and be left alone in my own self-pity. Plus, he knows I won’t go near the south wing, so he’s not going anywhere. A slight smirk tugs at his lips as he stares me down, like he can read my thoughts. The cocky bastard.

  Pushing myself to my fullest height of five foot five inches without the heels, I hold my shoulders back and push my blazing red hair off my shoulder. Pursing my lips, I try to look pissed off. Mostly, I’m feeling uneven and a little off-kilter with all the male testosterone in here surrounding my bubble.

  “Levi tells me he’s off duty today down here. I see that none of you are in your uniforms.” I glance at each of them, letting my eyes linger a little longer than necessary to get my point across. “Well, except Ryce, but he’d wear all black whether he was working or not, but that’s beside the point.” My rambling makes me sound like a dense idiot.

  Things have been pretty under control the last few decades. I used to help them manage the wings, but since they’ve pretty much told me they’d rather I step out of their business, I avoid the areas as much as possible. Plus, I don’t enjoy the mundane acts of torturing anymore. I’d rather greet the souls coming through Hell on the boat bringing them across the River Styx. I like to hang out there when they arrive and hear the newcomers’ stories. It’s fun pretending to be cheery and excited for their arrival to eternal damnation. I’m sure they don’t enjoy it as much as I do though.