Page 50 of Judas

“Sure are quick.” His words are dry.

Asshole.

“The letterhead said Sortiger. So, you’re also a convict.”

“Another point for Gryffindor.”

“Slytherin.”

“What?”

“Slytherin house, it’s the—no, don’t get off topic. Were you in for kidnapping? You made it seem like you knew my mom, she’s in Bluitt, nowhere near Sortiger.” I rapidly fire questions at him, still standing here, not wanting to get closer. More concerned with having those questions answered than figuring out why he took me. I’m sure that will come out in the wash.

“Eat,” he responds, ignoring my inquisition.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

“What did I say about liars, Sadie?”

“I’ll eat when you answer my questions.”

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” He slides a plate across the island that I didn’t see before. There’s meat on it, beans, corn—he got all of this from the abandoned pantry?

“Because you are one?”

Flicking my eyes back up to him, he’s grinning at me. Pinching my brows together, I can see him better in the light now. He has scars all over the place, some on his neck that interrupt the ink on his throat, then his arms are covered too. I don’t mean a cluster of ten or fifteen near the wrist, I mean they are everywhere. The pale lines leave the tattoos across his skin jagged and no longer aligned. This guy really fucks himself up.

“You’re funny. You get that from me.”

“I don’t get shit from you. What the hell did you do to your arms?”

He scowls then. “Atonement, Sadie. You’ll learn about that soon enough.”

“I think the fuck not. I don’t cut.”

“Yeah, then what is it that you do to punish yourself for your sins?”

Oh for fucks sake, he’s one of those people.

Listen, I don’t judge, I have no ground to do so. But when you force feed religion it makes you unbearable and kills my vibe. We already know it’s fucked up as it is. Especially when the three rummaging around in my head—who are oddly quiet—let me know just how fed up they are with something like religion.

Samael, no Uncle Lucien, Lucien, Luci? Lulu? Fuck that, we’re not on nicknames basis yet. He’s ’creepy fuck’ right now. Anyway, he’s staring at me, waiting for my answer but he isn’t getting one until he answers mine. I guess it dawns on him when I cross my arms and go quiet. The atmosphere grew heavy all over again. Watching him like a hawk, he reaches out and snatches up some of the meat on the plate and starts feeding himself, ignoring my behavior. Or, at least I thought he was until he spoke next.

“Multiple homicide.”

“Huh?”

“Daft girl. I’m answering your questions. I was convicted of multiple homicide, not kidnapping. I’ve known your mom all of my life. Long story short, we both had crappy lives. She went the better route but we still ended up at Darkwater together. Nadia as a prison guard, where she met your father, and of course me as an inmate.”

Lucien doesn’t look up as he takes a few more bites, followed by a few spoonfuls of cold canned produce.

Nadia. My mom’s name is Nadia. Father and Mother never told me, and her name isn’t on my birth certificate either. I would have found her if I at least had her name and now that I do—it seems surreal. He knows my—well,knew—my parents. And is the only bridge I have between my life and the one I should have had with them. There are so many questions I need to ask but I don’t think he’s going to be as forthcoming as I want him to be.

“So, when my father said she was a sex offender, it’s because—“

“Yes, she had an illegal relationship with your sperm donor. Don’t worry, though, I fixed it,” he said, cutting me off.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

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