Made in Malice (Corrupt Credence Book 1)

NOVA

By Thursday, when I’m getting ready for my second shift at Hooker’s, I’m about ready to toss in the towel and quit the college I was so eager to attend. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering when the next attack is going to come.

The only thing keeping me enrolled is the thought of returning home to my crappy apartment after getting a taste of what my life could be like, and the fact that I don’t want to give Lucian the satisfaction.

I’ve seen him around campus a few times. Well, I think it’s him anyway, and not his possibly more stable brother, but he ignored me like I asked for the most part. I’m not dumb enough to believe he has any intention of actually leaving me alone. I catch him watching me sometimes, as if he’s biding his time to strike, and it’s messing with my head, which is exactly what he wants.

After closing my room, I check to make sure it’s locked, even though I know Alden has a key. I haven’t seen my brutish escort in several days. For all of Rory’s insistence that I have protection, the need seems to have dried up now that they know I’m not going to run away like my mother did. I’m still curious about what made her give all this up, but no one on the island seems to want to talk to me, let alone give me answers about the past.

“Headed out?” Astrid catches me breezing past a hall, and I backtrack to answer her.

“Yes, for a few hours.” Her gaze slides over me, and the small sigh she lets out leaves me with the impression that I’ve disappointed her somehow.

“How’s school? Making lots of friends?” Now she sounds hopeful.

“It’s good, a big change, but I’m adjusting.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s been a while since an Umbra attended Cadieux. I bet they are all enamored with you.”

She couldn’t be more wrong, but I’m not going to burst her bubble, so I just smile and hope it doesn’t come off as forced.

“Have fun.” She waves me off as if she thinks I’m headed out to a party, then picks up her wine glass to sip it.

I make it off the island without any other run-ins, but that’s where my luck runs out. As soon as I park my SUV in the side lot, I spot a familiar physique. Tall, broad, covered in tattoos, and carrying a chip on his shoulder, Lucian Morningstar is hard to miss. I sink lower into my seat, hoping he hasn’t spotted me and it’s only a coincidence he’s walking up the block. He’s alone, which doesn’t strike me as odd, but the way people seem to avoid him does.

Instead of watching him, I scan the people walking around on the warm night, and I’m surprised by how many people wait until he’s past them before stealing a glance in his direction, as if they don’t want to draw his attention. Does everyone know who he is, or is his presence just that visceral?

Once he disappears around the corner in the opposite direction of the bar, I slink out of my car and speed walk to get inside in case he turns around for some reason.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t more nervous today than I was my first night. Jimmy made it clear that my job here is contingent on me not making any waves, so I’m pretty sure he would fire me on the spot if Lucian walked in and said one word to me.

I didn’t bother with a purse tonight. I have my small wallet tucked into my pocket, so I avoid the need to head to the back room and go straight to the bar. Mickey is perched on a stool, speaking to a man while he glances between the man and one of the large televisions near the ceiling.

Instead of interrupting him, I punch in, then check if the cooler needs to be restocked before taking a rack of dirty glasses to the washer in the back. He’s still chatting when I return, but he gives me a nod in greeting.

I serve a few drafts and bottles before I have to intrude and ask him for a mixed drink. “Sorry to bother you.” I smile at the man Mickey’s seated nearby.

“No bother, darlin’, what do ya need?”

“A Long Island.”

Mickey lets out a long sigh. “Guess I need to get my old ass moving. We’re picking up,” he says, rising slowly to his feet and stretching a little before grabbing the stool and putting it near the other end of the bar.

We’re nowhere near as busy as Saturday, but it’s steady enough that my night goes by quickly, and before I know it, I’m cashing out at eleven.

“See you tomorrow, darlin’. It’s only going to get busier,” Mickey warns as I send a wave in his direction.

There’s a welcome breeze coming off the water as I make my way to my car. I’m a little tired from the long day and regretting how early I need to wake up in the morning.

Without warning, an arm wraps around me from behind, and a hand clamps over my mouth so hard, I can barely draw a breath. I claw at the fingers over my face, but a few angry words whispered in my ear stop all my fight, despite how hard I’m breathing. “Evening, little lamb.”

My mind is going a hundred miles an hour, but my ability to act seems to have been sucked right out of me by Lucian’s voice.

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” I swear he runs his nose up the side of my neck, inhaling. I try to shake my head, but it doesn’t dislodge him. Instead, he steps even closer to me, so I can feel him against my back. My thundering heart pounds out an erratic rhythm, missing beats, or maybe it’s just going so fast, it feels that way.

“I want to talk, and I don’t want any interruptions, even from you,” he tells me as if holding me immobile and preventing me from speaking is a perfectly logical way to accomplish that. I give him a little nod, hoping if I’m agreeable, he will release me, or at least my mouth, since I’m afraid I’m going to hyperventilate.

When he doesn’t budge or say anything else, I tap his fingers over my mouth, asking him to release his grip. A swell of panic begins to rise in me right before he finally drops his hand. I lean my head back, sucking in thirsty gulps of warm air with my mouth open.

His fingers stroke over my neck, and I realize I’m leaning against him, relying on him to keep me up while I regain control of my breathing, and there’s nothing I can do to change that yet. It’s like my body went through too many reactions, and now it’s just too busy making sure I survive.

“Keep walking,” Lucian says darkly, and I turn my head to see a couple of guys who were at the bar. They don’t even make eye contact with me as they pass, and I think I hate them more than I hate Lucian. They have no idea if I’m in any real danger or not, but they do nothing, say nothing, as they leave me with the devil.

“You can…let me…go now,” I pant as I raise my head off his chest.

“Why would I do that?”

“You said you wanted to talk,” I remind him.

“You were all smiles in there, flirting with everyone.” Lucian takes a step forward, and I’m forced to move along with him or risk being dragged.

“I was not flirting. I was working,” I argue, even though I shouldn’t need to defend myself. “Did you come here to critique how I do my job?”

“I didn’t hear you complaining when that old man called you darlin’,” he chastises, moving deeper into the parking lot.

“I know you hit your head in that accident, but did it knock something loose in there?”

When his hand shifts up as if he might cover my mouth again, I lift mine to block him and say, “No!”

He pauses for a second, then whispers, “Nobody tells me no,” near my ear.

“Well, I do.”

“And it’s infuriating,” he grumbles.

“What do you want?” We’re getting closer to my car. The keys are in my pocket, and he’s so close to me, all he would have to do is touch the handle and the door would unlock. What if he really is going to kill me?

“To talk.”

“If you just want to talk, then why are you holding onto me like I’m your shield in a hostage negotiation?”

“Because I don’t trust you not to run,” he counters. Does he really think this is all okay in his head?

I’m looking down at the door handle of my SUV, trying to come up with a plan that gets me inside but locks him out, when Lucian turns me and pushes me up against the car parked next to me. I let out a little oof from the shock, which gives him enough time to open the door and push me into the front passenger seat of an unfamiliar black SUV.

I end up half over the center console with my rump in the air when I kneel on the seat, but he quickly slams the door behind me. I reach across the driver’s seat to slam my hand down on the door lock, but he just makes a face at me like he’s questioning my mental acuity before climbing in the car, forcing me back into my own seat or risk having my face too close to his.

The locks engage before a hushed silence falls inside the car. “Has anyone ever told you that you are exhausting?” I narrow my eyes on him. Despite everything he’s put me through, there’s some crazy part of me that can’t wrap my head around him actually willfully hurting me physically. I can’t even understand why he hates me so badly.

“Not until after I fuck them,” he counters crassly.

“Oh, give me a break.”

“You asked.” He shrugs.

“Look, I’m tired. Tell me what you want this time so I can go to bed.”

Lucian’s hands grip the top of the steering wheel tightly, making the leather creak in response. “How much do you know about the people you’re living with?”

“Rory and Astrid?” I want to make sure he’s not talking about one of the many people who seem to reside on the property.

He nods once instead of speaking.

“Why?”

“Why not just answer?” He turns to the side, leaning against the door a little. At least he’s not driving away and leaving me on the side of the road somewhere.

“Fine, if it will get me out of this car soon, whatever. I don’t know them very well, happy?”

“No, how are you related to them?”

“They are my grandparents. Why does this matter?”

“Where are your parents then?”

“Dead,” I reply flatly, and he flinches as if I surprised him.

“When did that happen?” He leans forward as if my answer is important.

“A few years ago.”

“What happened to them?”

“None of your business.”

Lucian stares me down as if I’ll crack under the pressure. When I don’t, he asks, “Where did they find you?”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Under a rock. That’s what you said, right?”

His nostrils flare when he exhales loudly. “The Umbras only had one kid, Clara. Was she your mom?”

“Yes,” I say through my teeth.

Lucian lets out a heavy curse and turns to look out the windshield.

“Is that a problem for you?” I snark at his response.

“Yeah. I was told she died twenty-three years ago, and if I’m not mistaken, you’re not that old, so that means they lied to me.”

It’s probably the first real answer he’s given me. I think he’s just as surprised that he gave it up as I am by the way his mouth is pinched like he regrets saying anything.

I snort and shake my head. “If it makes you feel any less duped, my parents told me they were orphans and that we had no family.”

“Did you ever think that maybe there’s a reason for that, and they didn’t want you here?” he snaps angrily.

“Oh wow, that never crossed my mind.” I feign innocence before hardening my expression and my tone. “Have I answered enough of your questions, King Morningstar? May I go?”

“We can finish this conversation now or tomorrow.” He glares at me as if he’s pissed at both of us for considering making a concession.

“I work tomorrow.” I reach for the handle.

“Call off.”

“No.”

“I could strangle you,” he mutters under his breath.

“Been there, done that.” I shove the door open hard. He’s lucky he didn’t park close enough for me to hit my own car, because that really would have pissed me off. His door slams, and he walks around to my side while I’m closing my door. I hit the lock, and he scowls down at me through the window.

“If you think a little glass is enough to keep me away from you, you’re wrong, little lamb. I’m letting you leave.” Lucian puts his palm on the window separating us, then adds, “I suggest you find your way to me tomorrow, or I’ll come back for you, and I won’t be so accommodating next time.”

“You’re insane,” I tell him, utterly stunned at his skewed view of the situation. How can he think he’s been accommodating?

“You know where I live.” He turns his back to me and strolls to his car. My mouth is probably still hanging open when I start my car and drive toward the island on autopilot. His headlights follow me the entire way there.

I keep my speed low after passing the college. I’m nervous about having him right on my bumper on the isolated road, so I keep my eyes on my rearview almost as much as I look out the front to make sure an animal doesn’t run out of the forest. When I slow to make the turn into the Umbra property, he speeds up beside me and stops next to my car.

“I changed my mind, we can finish our talk now,” he orders with a tilt of his head to motion across the street.

“No way, you’d probably bury me under your sewer system.”

“I thought you were tough?” There’s a dare in his tone, one that frightens me more than the threat of him hurting me.

“I’m also smart, pretty boy.” With that, I hit the gas and speed past the gate to the safety of the estate. Lucian’s car sits at the entrance for a long time, waiting. Just as the metal begins to close, I see his headlights jump as if he’s going to drive right through it, but then he turns the car around, and I watch his taillights disappear through his own gate.

I blow out a breath of relief and, if I’m completely honest, disappointment, which makes absolutely no sense. I want nothing to do with Lucian Morningstar.