Paranormal Erotic Romance Box Set (71 page)

Papa stood next to me and I looked up at him. He put his
hand on my shoulder and in that moment, I felt everything he is. I felt his
strength and his promise to give me that strength.

“Tell your mother, Lyric,” Papa said. “Give her that and
then come with me.”

Papa walked to the door and waited for me to tell my
mother what she needed to hear. I spoke with his strength pumping through every
vein and artery in my body. My mother shook her head back and forth, raining
tears and begged me not to say it. Begged me not to do it.

“
Things fall apart,
” I said as I stared up at my
mother. “
The centre cannot hold, mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
”

She looked down at me and shook her head. I looked into
her eyes a final time and pushed the ladder out from under her feet.

While I watched my mother’s face, I thought about the
puppy I strangled a year earlier. Her eyes were open and fixed on me. I spun in
a circle under her and her eyes followed me. I faced Papa and ran toward him. He
hugged me tightly and I handed him the picture I drew. It was a picture of the
two of us...together always.

“There are others, Lyric,” Papa said as he looked at the
picture. “You have brothers and sisters who you will have lots of fun with. Does
that sound good?”

“Yes,” I said.

I took a last look at the limp body of my mother spinning
slowly by the neck. Except for her tongue hanging grotesquely from her mouth,
she looked like a beautiful aerial acrobat.

“Okay, let’s go,” Papa said and gripped my hand.

That was twelve years ago. My life is more incredible than
I ever imagined it would be.

We, my brothers and sisters and our Papa, live in a
beautiful penthouse on Park Avenue in Manhattan. As I said, there is no red devil
with cloven hooves and horns, he is a man. There is no Lucifer, Beelzebub or
Belial. There is only Lucien. The books that you read have it all wrong. Papa
is the bringer of the light and the proclaimer of all truth. There were just
some people who thought his light dangerous and his truth a sin.

This life, this sometimes cold, miserable life we live
would be infinitely easier if people adopted his truths. But people wish to be
led to the slaughter, blind and gullible and unprepared. If you followed Papa,
you’d be none of those things. The blinders would be stripped from your eyes
and you would see everything as it is rather than the way you wish it to be. The
moment you fool yourself, the moment that you disregard the truth, you are
dead. It doesn’t have to be that way. Truly it doesn’t.

There are parts of Papa that are just as human as you. He
loves his children. He lives forever through us and he makes sure that we’re
safe. The very same night Lucien fucked my mother and pumped his seed into her
egg to produce me, he did the same with five other women. All women were chosen
carefully by Papa to produce six perfect children. He groomed the six of us to
carry his message and defend his law: that death comes to the weak while the
strong live forever, that just as fire, earth, air and water are absolutes so
is rebellion, non-conformity, intellectualism and sex, that the worship of the
self is the only worship allowed and that
lex talionis
, the law of
retaliation, is the only law to uphold.

We grew together as a gang. We only need each other. My three
brothers are Julian, Nico and Alexander. My sisters are Serene and Rose. And
there is me, Lyric. Together we sit at the feet of our father, each of us
slightly different, but as beautiful as the next. We need only to be together
and will rip to shreds anyone who dares try to make us suffer. We were
instantly accepted in school and rose through the silly popularity ranks to
become the people to follow. As Papa taught us, to be a leader is the only way.

We knew we were different from others from the moment we
came to live with him. But we are different in the most wonderful ways.

There is never a day that music isn’t reverberating off
the pre-war walls of our apartment. All kinds of music...rock and classical and
rap and pop. Seven days in the week and seven of us allows one day for each
person to choose the genre of music that will play that day. Serene was on a
country kick about a year ago. Luckily for all of us, she got over that quick.

The library was the first room we were introduced to when
we came to live with Him. Stocked from floor to ceiling with ancient
manuscripts and modern hardcovers, the only thing Papa demands is we read. We
all lie on the floor in the library and read a book every day. Papa quizzes us
on our readings. He read them all already so he knows if we absorbed everything
or if we just skimmed. Julian went through a skimming phase. Papa promised him
that fools die young. Julian wanted to live forever with us so he stopped being
a skimmer.

You may wonder why education is so important if we are the
children of the Devil. Why do we need to learn anything? That’s a fair
question. The answer is that our power comes from knowledge and we crave that
knowledge. We get off on the knowing of everything: literature, art, science,
mathematics. We get off on opinions, other worlds and other lives. We get off
on
you
.

We don’t have curled talons or pointed fangs. You would
admire the esthetics of us, envy the life we lead, want to be our friend, but
you wouldn’t think us strange. We speak like you, dress like you and embrace
all things modern. We don’t sit around sacrificing babies and participating in
blood feasts, we are just like you. Only different. We want the same comforts
and have the same dreams. But we never wish on stars or pray to deities,
because we
know
that everything we want, we will get. We are just like
you. Only different.

This year, we are in our last year at Wilton Day, one of
the most elite prep schools in Manhattan. We are eighteen years old and, as was
his decree, deflowered in the most spectacular way. We are ready for
domination, the domination he envisioned for us since the day he fucked our
mothers.

“Lyric,” Professor Teresi said, “what do you think he
means?”

“What? Who?” I said.

He walked toward my desk, this beautiful man who I am in
love with. The man who watched me rub my pussy on top of his desk and who
rejected me after. He was unable to remove his eyes from me as I rubbed my
clit, but after he treated me as if I am a monster. I know he’s a teacher and
has to act as such. I understand that there are certain rules of social decorum
to follow and all, but the dismissiveness that he treats me with is maddening.

“We are discussing
The Second Coming
, are you with
us?” he said and held up a copy of Yeats’ book. “Did you or did you not do your
assignment last night?”

The class laughed and my ears pounded. In addition to all
he has done to humiliate me, he wants to make sure he puts me in my place.
Fine, if he believes he needs more control, I’ll give it to him...for now.

“Yes, I did my assignment. What Yeats is saying is that
what you think you know and what you think is, simply is not.”

“Simple? Interesting. I don’t think Yeats intended to be
simple
when he wrote this,” he said and stood over me.

I moved the force of the burning I felt in my face into my
eyes and stared into his eyes.

“I used the word
simply
to condense. Yeats is
saying that what all the good Christians thought to be true, is not true. When
he wrote that the center cannot hold, he is telling people to remove their
rose-colored glasses and see what’s around them because it is coming.”

“And what is
it
?”

“Anarchy,” I said.

He stared at me for a second and a slight smile built
around his mouth. But only for a second. He then turned his back to me and
rattled off about the next assignment and my eyes burned into his back. The
bell rang and the kids started to file out of the classroom. He sat down at his
desk and I remained at mine.

“Lyric, you need to get to your next class,” he said while
he shuffled papers on his desk.

I gathered my stuff and walked toward him. He kept his
head down and I reached out and touched his arm. He yanked it away from my hand
as if I just put a cockroach on his arm. He looked at me with hatred.

“Get to class, Lyric. Now!” he said through clenched
teeth.

“I want to talk to you, Professor Teresi. Can’t we even
talk?”

“No, we can’t. Now, get to class,” he said and waved me
away from him.

I scurried from the classroom like a weak little mouse and
spent the rest of the day angry and depressed.

“So how was Professor Dreamy’s class?” Rose said after
class as our driver took us home.

“Goddamned horrid,” I said. “He treated me like a leper.
Rose, please tell me what to do. Papa tried last night, but I think I need a
more gentle approach.”

“Cupcakes,” she said.

“Cupcakes? What do you mean?”

“Well, Lyric,” Rose said, “you’re hot, so there’s really
nothing to improve for Professor Fuckable. But, he obviously has something
holding him back...morals, standards, whatev. So it seems to me you need to
appeal to him on some sort of human level. Cupcakes make everyone melt.”

Our brothers laughed and Serene told them to shut up.

“No, Rose is right,” Serene said. “Bring him cupcakes,
Lyric and apologize for yesterday. Perhaps, you came on too strong?”

“I don’t know, do you really think it will work, Rose?” I
said.

“Um, excuse me,” Julian said, “I’m a guy and if a hot
chick got on top of any surface and rubbed her pussy in front of me until she
came like Lyric did, she wouldn’t need to bring me fucking
cupcakes
!
Maybe Professor Teresi just isn’t interested in Lyric.”

“Impossible!” Rose said. “He just needs a little gentle
coaxing. Some men do, you know.”

“You girls are fucked in the head,” Alexander said and laughed.
“I’m sorry, Lyric, but I think this is a really bad idea. You really think
bringing Professor Teresi baked goods is going to make him change his mind and
fall all over himself to fuck you?”

“Listen to Alexander, sister,” Nico said. “He is more
likely to whip out a restraining order than his cock if you show up at his
apartment. And what about his wife?”

“What of her?” I said.

“Don’t listen to them, Lyric,” Rose said. “We’ll go as
soon as we drop the boys off. We’ll stop at Brentano’s and pick out six of the
most beautiful cupcakes and go to his apartment. When you get there, you’ll
present them as a peace offering. If the wife is there, you leave. If not, you
go in and break him the fuck down.”

“Sounds perfect!” Serene said. “I want to go too. Rose and
I will have Jimmy park and we’ll wait for you in the car.”

“Sounds fucked!” Nico said. “Lyric, you will regret this.
If this man loves his wife, if he loves his job, he’s not going to want
anything to do with you. Just leave it alone and move the fuck on.”

“I can’t move on. It is decreed,” I said.

We dropped the boys off and our driver Jimmy took us to
Brentano’s bakery in Little Italy. We picked out six of the most beautiful
cupcakes and had the lady pack them carefully in a pink box. She even tied the
twine around the box in a bow after my sisters told her they were a love
offering. We then made our way to the Village and toward Professor Teresi’s
apartment while my sisters fixed my hair and makeup.

“Beautiful,” Rose said as she stared at me. “You look absolutely
beautiful. He won’t be able to resist you Lyric, I feel it.”

“Take your panties off,” Serene said. “No need having
extra clothing between you and he. Besides, what’s sexier than a girl in a
school uniform with no panties on?”

I slipped my panties off and threw them in my book bag. My
heart pounded as the car pulled up in front of Professor Teresi’s apartment.

“Okay, remember,” Rose said, “if the wife is there,
apologize and hand the cupcakes over and come back to the car. If she is not,
you know what to do.”

“Lyric,” Serene said, “what does she look like? If she’s
not there, Rose and I will keep an eye out for her and text you if we see her
coming.”

“Pretty,” I said. “Long, blond hair, thin, blue eyes, but
uptight looking. She used to be a ballerina with Martha Graham. Now she does
nothing.”

My sisters sighed and wished me luck. I got out of the car
and walked up the seven concrete steps that led to his brownstone. The box of
cupcakes felt heavy in my hands and I hesitated on step six. I wanted to run
back to the safety of my sisters, but I knew Papa would be pleased if I forged
ahead. So I did.

I tousled my hair on the landing, rang the bell, licked my
lips and meditated for Papa’s power. And when he answered and stared at me, I
felt that power explode in my veins.

“Lyric,” he said as he looked up and down the sidewalk,
“what the hell are you doing here?”

He wore a tight, black Henley that outlined his pectoral
muscles perfectly. His defined stomach, always hidden by his suit jackets, was
more magnificent than I imagined. He look like he either just woke from a nap
or was about to take one and I felt he was alone. I also felt my confidence
wavering.

“I-I, I brought you these,” I said and held out the box of
cupcakes.

“Lyric, you coming here is not appropriate. This is my
home, my private home, and you are my student,” he said and took the box from
my hand.

“Please, Professor Teresi,” I said, “I just want to talk.
To apologize for the way I behaved yesterday. Are you alone?”

“Yes, my wife is shopping, but I don’t know how long until
she returns. She would not like to find you here, Lyric, but you can come in
for a moment.”

He allowed me into his apartment and followed behind me.
He had rows and stacks of books lining the wall shelves and on the floor. His
apartment, while modest compared to my apartment, is larger than I thought it
would be with an expansive living room and beautiful view.