Made in Malice (Corrupt Credence Book 1)

The knock comes promptly at eight. I’m not ashamed to admit I was dozing on the plush couch while watching TV. It actually took me a second to recognize what the sound was and answer the door.

I crack the door, looking into the hallway to find a woman who’s a little older than me with a smile plastered on her face. If I had to guess, I would say it was as fake as my own. “Hello,” I greet.

“Good evening, Miss Devlin. Your presence has been requested at dinner.” I can’t ignore the way her smile falls flat when she glances down at my jeans and T-shirt.

I wipe under my eyes to make sure I don’t have any smudged mascara on my face, but there isn’t much I can do about my clothes. It’s not like I have something better to change into. “Sure, okay,” I agree before meeting her in the hall.

We walk in strained silence for several seconds before the woman airily asks, “How was your trip?”

“Good, thanks,” I say too quickly, wishing I would have elaborated a little more to use up more time. “I bet I could get lost in here.”

“It takes a bit of getting used to,” she agrees.

“Have you been here long?” I’m assuming she works for the Umbras, but I don’t want to come right out and ask what she does.

“I grew up here. Not in the main house,” she amends quickly, as if I would have known the difference. “My parents have been with the Umbras for a long time.” She sounds proud.

“That’s cool. Do you go to the college? It’s certainly beautiful.” I’m prodding for details about the school. I tried to look up information online, but apparently Cadieux is a private college, and the very limited data I could find was along the lines of a you don’t call us, we call you kind of thing. It said the students who attend are hand selected to be future leaders of the world. Virgil did mention me attending school there, but the thought makes me nervous since I was never a straight A student in high school, though in my own defense, it was a shitty time for me.

“It is lovely.” She does that imitation smile thing again, not answering if she attends or not, then waves her hand toward a room we just reached. “Enjoy your meal.”

“Thanks,” I say at her clear dismissal, then I enter the empty dining room. The table could easily sit twenty people, and the wood top is so shiny, I can see the chandeliers hanging above reflected on the surface. The high-back chairs are all throne-like, with armrests and ornate designs carved into the wood. It’s over-the-top opulence, and I feel very much out of place.

“Nova.”

I jerk in the direction of a soft, feminine voice and find a petite woman with blonde hair that seems golden under the lights. Her hands are up near her mouth, as if to cover the fact that she just called my name, while her light eyes are wide as she stares at me.

I don’t get the same visceral reaction to her resemblance to my mother in the way I did with my grandfather, but I find soft touches of my mom in this woman’s face. Her high cheekbones and perfect little nose are dead giveaways.

Finally, she removes her hands, and my grandfather joins her on the opposite side of the room from me. His stoic demeanor is much the same as it was earlier today, until he looks down at his wife, then his unaffected mien is replaced with what almost looks like sadness for just a brief moment.

“Hello,” I say, feeling awkward. I have no idea what they expected in a granddaughter, but I can almost bet it wasn’t me.

“Hello,” she responds with a wide smile. She strides over with speed and poise until she’s standing right in front of me. We’re about eye level, since she’s wearing heels, but she is delicate and thin where I’m sturdy. Dad used to joke that I was built for hard labor, and I never saw it as a bad thing.

“It’s like looking at your mother.” She scans my face so slowly, I start to feel uncomfortable, and I’m not sure where to look.

“I don’t see the likeness,” I admit. I always thought I looked more like my dad.

“Well, I do. How are you? Was your trip okay? Did you get unpacked?” She grabs my hand to hold it in hers, and I’m slightly alarmed with how cold her skin is.

“I’m okay, I have so many questions.”

“I’m sure you do.” She pats my hand, then guides me over to sit down at the first seat next to the head of the table on the left side, before taking the seat directly across from me.

Seconds after we’re seated, an older woman rolls a silver cart into the room and starts serving food. She places Rory’s dish down first, then Astrid’s, followed by mine. It’s a salad with spiky greens and some sort of vinaigrette by the smell of it. Lastly, she adds a small bowl of rolls before backing silently out of the room.

Astrid resumes speaking the moment she’s gone. “You’ve been working?”

“Yes, as a server since I graduated.” Which was well over a year now. I’ve never felt bad about that before, but now I find it a little lackluster.

“You did a good job taking care of yourself,” Rory chimes in, drawing my attention.

“Now you have us. You can go to school and take your place in the family,” Astrid says, speaking over her husband.

“At Cadieux?” I probably sound too hopeful. I don’t know why I want to go to that school so badly—maybe because I know I would never be able to get in on my own, or maybe it’s because it looks like something out of a medieval fairy tale—but my desire to attend has grown exponentially since I saw the school.

“Absolutely. Generations of our family have attended Cadieux.”

“Even my mother?”

Astrid’s charming smile slips at my question. “Yes, for a short time,” she answers, her tone flat. “We can get you enrolled first thing Monday.” By the time she’s done speaking, her smile is back in place as if it never disappeared, and Rory is watching his wife intently. I wonder if he’s worried my presence will disrupt their lives.

“Why did she leave?”

Rory’s attention shifts back to me at my question, while Astrid turns her focus to her food. “She fell in love with your father,” he answers.

“And?” I prompt, because I know there is more to the story.

“And she left to be with him,” Astrid says rather quickly, maybe even cutting off Rory’s response.

“So she had to choose?” I still haven’t touched my salad. I’m not even hungry at this point.

Rory turns the question around. “What did she tell you?”

“She didn’t.” I don’t want to admit she told me she was an orphan and that her parents were dead, because I think that would be needlessly hurtful.

Astrid sets her fork down after only a few demure bites of greens, and the server returns to take her plate almost immediately. We all remain quiet while the dishes are removed.

“There was no choice, but she still decided to leave. I wish things would have been different, but you’re here now, and I can’t be anything but happy about that,” Astrid finally tells me.

I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to know this conversation is hard for her, and there’s a part of me that’s worried about rocking the boat too much. That doesn’t mean I won’t keep looking for answers, but I’m sure there are other people I can talk to besides my grandparents.

“I’m excited for the chance to get to know you.” I don’t intentionally leave out Rory, but he’s just so quiet and standoffish. I wonder if he thinks I’ll disappear from their lives like my mother did, or if there’s some other reason he’s so aloof.

“We are too, Nova, more than you know.” Astrid is smiling again, which makes me feel better. “Is your room okay? Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes, everything is…more than I could ever ask for.” It takes me a moment to come up with the right words.

“Wonderful. I called Tabby. She’ll be by tomorrow to get your measurements.”

“Measurements for what?” Please do not tell me Cadieux has a uniform. It’s a college, not a high school.

“So she’ll know your size, dear. She’s been my shopper for years, and I trust her implicitly. She’ll take care of everything you need.”

“You mean clothes?” I want to make sure we’re on the same page.

“Yes, and anything else, like shoes and bags.”

“I brought my things,” I tell her, but she must know, because someone had to give the okay for the luggage, right?

“Of course, dear, I just want to make sure you have what you need. I thought you might need a few other options for the weather and school events, but if you don’t want to see what she has to say, I’ll respect your wishes.”

Dang it, when she says it like that, I feel bad for rejecting her kind offer, and it’s probably better if I do have some nicer stuff. “You’re right, I could probably use a few things. Thank you for thinking of it.”

Her smile is wide when she responds. “Certainly, I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too,” I answer automatically, but there’s some truth to my words.

The conversation slips into more mundane topics. Astrid asks for more details about my flight, how I like South Carolina so far, and what I think of my room and the house. I answer everything dutifully, but I’m really dying to ask more about my parents and what they could possibly need from me like Alden implied.

When dessert is served, I allow myself one more burning question. “Do you know anything about my dad’s family?”

Astrid’s lips purse the tiniest bit before she thins them, however it’s Rory who answers. “His mother died of cancer while he was a senior in high school, and I do not believe his father was ever in the picture.”

It’s sad, but it’s actually kind of comforting to know not everything my parents told me was a lie. “Thank you.” I let him hear and see how grateful I am for the information.

“Do you need Bridgit to show you back to your room? I’m sure you’re tired,” Astrid asks after only taking a small bite or two of her tiny cake.

“I think I can find it, unless…unless you don’t want me wandering around?” I make sure they hear it for the question it is.

“Explore, this is your home,” she replies. “And if you ever need me, I’m usually in the north wing in the evening, or you can just ask one of the staff to find me. I’ll make sure you have my numbers too.”

“Okay,” I agree softly, feeling slightly better knowing that they don’t expect me to stay holed up in my room like a prisoner.

I start to push back from the table to rise when Rory adds, “Please notify Alden if you plan on leaving the house so he can be with you.” His words remind me of my escort.

“Why does he need to be with me?” I’m not expecting him to come right out and say it’s because they want to make sure I don’t take off like my mom did, but he catches me way off guard when he replies.

“It’s for your own safety.”

“From what?” I press.

“He’s being overprotective.” Astrid waves her hand good-naturedly at her husband, dismissing his worry.

Rory ignores her. “I can ensure your welfare here and at the school, but Alden will make sure you are protected when I can’t.”

It’s almost on my tongue to ask from what, but Astrid catches my attention and rolls her eyes as if to say, please just indulge him.

“Okay,” I agree, still unclear of his motives.

“Sleep well, Nova. I’ll look forward to tomorrow.” Astrid lays her hand over Rory’s and gives his fingers a soft squeeze while speaking to me. “If you’re up for it, I’d love to take you on a tour of the college.”

“I would love that.” I don’t have to fake my enthusiasm. I can’t wait to get a look at the school.

“That’s settled then. We’ll meet with Tabby in the morning, then we can visit the school after lunch.”

“I’ll let Alden know of your plans,” Rory says, but I can’t tell if he’s speaking to me or Astrid.