Miscreants: Next Generation Read online

  He was shaking so badly the chain began to sway.

  “Let’s use him to block the door, just in case. Can we make him unrecognizable?” Samael asked.

  “Remove his hands and his head?”

  “That works. Break his legs first so he can’t go anywhere.”

  What was this?

  “No!” I broke free of Samael’s grip and rushed to Felix’s side before he could grab me again, glaring at both him and the creepy deer-headed asshole. “What are you doing? He helped us!”

  “Lilith.” He said my name with a sigh, as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. “He’s an old man and a driver. He’s served his purpose.”

  “Such a renowned since of justice. You’re sure she’s a Savage?”

  Samael gave him a flat look. “Handle him. I’ve got this.”

  The stag laughed and began dragging Felix by the chain wrapped around his neck.

  I’d tried to stop it, but once Samael took hold of me there was nothing I could do. My mind whirled. I didn’t understand what was happening.

  “But he’s one of us,” I found myself saying.

  “Not anymore.”

  What? With my back to his chest, I had to partially twist to look at him. “What does that mean?”

  “That’s not important right now. We need to leave.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  For the longest seconds of my life, I thought he wasn’t going to answer me, but even when he did it wasn’t what I expected.

  “Because you’re mine.”

  Did that answer account for what he’d just done?

  I trusted him.

  I trusted him long before I fell for him.

  Blindly.

  Foolishly.

  That loyalty was my Achilles’ heel.

  When it came to Samael, I ignored every obvious warning sign and disregarded common sense.

  Following him was the biggest catalyst of my life.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Present

  I hid it well, but because of him I loved bloodshed as much as the next girl. Overt displays of violence tended to make my heart race with excitement.

  This… what had been transpiring for the past twenty minutes… It was wholly unnecessary and beginning to bore me. Not to mention the clean-up was going to be a pain in the ass.

  That wasn’t my problem, though. I never dirtied my hands if I didn’t have to.

  An audible crack reached my ears as Brody’s giant black boot connected with Jim’s face. He bellowed in pain as his jaw shifted from the impact, going abnormally far to the right. I couldn’t see any in the glow of the bonfire, but once the sun rose, I knew I’d be able to find half this guy’s teeth scattered about.

  I wondered what he did to deserve this. The newest recruits always went through a probationary period before being fully inducted as a proselyte. You didn’t allow just anyone into your faction, no matter how eager they seemed.

  The people you surrounded yourself with would be your family. They’d be the ones at your back and by your side, helping you survive. Those who didn’t make it all the way in were almost guaranteed to end up like this man.

  Dead.

  He may have been alive right now, but his death was inevitable.

  Brody’s large form cut off my line of sight, shifting a second later as he undid his jeans and began pissing on Jim’s face. Raunchy laughter erupted from the other men, a few whipping their dicks out to join in.

  Always so classy, these guys.

  As their urine rinsed the blood from Jim’s face, he coughed and gagged, unable to prevent some from entering his mouth. An overwhelming stench of ammonia began creeping towards the pine tree I was leaning against. My nose scrunched in disgust. Someone seriously needed to start drinking more water.

  Taking this as my cue to leave the area, I pushed away from the tree and prepared to take my ass to bed, faltering when Brody moved again.

  Samael’s weighted stare met mine as he approached the group of barbarians from the opposite direction.

  He didn’t seem surprised to see me out this late or standing near the pits. But then, he’d always had the freakish ability of knowing exactly where I was and when. I used to find comfort in the fact that he could find me no matter what. Now I couldn’t stand it.

  I turned and kept walking, flats moving over the leaves littering the dirt path. There were only a few yards between this end of the camp and the other, sparsely separated by a thicket of trees.

  Samael called to me as I rounded the first slight bend. I didn’t answer. Our last conversation—if you could call me yelling while he remained infuriatingly impassive a conversation—hadn’t gone anywhere but sour. I wasn’t up for a continuation.

  I’d been doing all I could to avoid seeing him at all recently—a task so much easier planned than implemented when he was the equivalent of a king around here. Even when I didn’t see him, he was there. In revered whispers. Inspirational speeches.

  Executions.

  I hated bearing witness to his uprising while on the outside looking in, but it was a necessary measure to guard an already battered and bruised heart.

  “Lils,” he tried again, closer than before.

  Dammit.

  I forgot how fast this man could move. Despite knowing how irate he got when ignored, I still didn’t slow. Besides, I’d asked him to stop calling me that nearly a year ago.

  I could feel him coming up right behind me. It was impossible not to when his aura was bigger than everything that surrounded us.

  It had been this way since we were young. The first word that came to mind when I tried to describe it was ‘smoldering.’

  His aura burned so intensely, you were damned to be trapped within it, happily falling victim to the blaze, or fighting not to become enflamed.

  This was exactly why I should have moved faster. He wouldn’t have been able to reach out and grab hold of my wrist, leaving me no other option but to stop walking.

  “I know you heard me calling you.” His fingers held firm as he maneuvered himself in front of me, effectively blocking my path.

  I tested his grip by trying to pull free, scowling when it tightened. I lifted my gaze to his, skimming over his shirt-clad chest.

  “What do you want?”

  “Ah, so you’re at phase three.”

  “I’m at what? What’s phase three?”

  I tried to pull away again. He tsked at me in mock admonishment. “The more you struggle, the tighter I’m going to hold.”

  He emphasized his point by tightening his grip even more. It didn’t hurt, but I knew he could easily change that. As his calloused fingers rubbed against my skin, the thought of using my teeth came and went. If I bit him, he’d bite back harder. I knew from prior experience that was liable to lead to our clothes coming off.

  “You don’t need to hold onto me. I’m not going to run away."

  “You just were.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” I lied. “What do you want, Mal?”

  Mal. Because it was either this or Malum these days, and I refused to call him by any other name than his own. At least I could convince myself Mal came from Samael.

  “Did you know you go through four phases when you try to be pissed at me?

  “One, you’re mad. Two, you’re over it. Three is where you pretend to still be upset.”

  “And four?” I drawled dryly.

  “That’s when you remember you’re hopelessly in love with me and nothing I say or do will ever change that.”

  I kept my face blank. I was well versed in expecting the unexpected when Samael opened his mouth. You never knew what he was going to say until he said it. Phase one through three was bull, but four? That hit much too close to the malignant truth.

  “I am mad at you,” I deflected.

  “Liar.”

  “Don’t you have anything productive to do? Maybe you should go babysit those Neanderthals and tell them to put their dicks away.”

 
His fingers flexed around my wrist. “You aren’t allowed to talk about dick.”

  I would’ve laughed, but I knew he was being serious.

  As we grew up, his possessiveness matured right along with us.

  I pulled against his grip again, somewhat surprised when he let me go. A little confused but not daring to waste any time pondering his behavior, I continued on my way. I didn’t make it far before his large hands were grasping my hips, easily manipulating my body so that I was facing the opposite direction once more.

  I should’ve known this was coming.

  Expelling a loud, exaggerated sigh, I peered up at his partially obscured face. The bonfire continued to rage from behind him, the flames casting a faint orange glow onto the path.

  He was sporting fresh stubble, bringing attention to a jawline that was to die for. One strand of dark hair had broken free from the swept back style he kept it in and now rested on his forehead.

  Samael readjusted his grip, purposely dragging the pads of his thumbs over the skin my midi tank didn’t cover.

  “Stop that.”

  I slapped at his hands and blocked the shiver that attempted to race down my spine. There wasn’t anything I could do about the goosebumps or the way he made my stomach flip.

  “You sure?” he taunted, an edge creeping into his tone. He attempted to repeat the motion with his thumbs.

  I grabbed both of his wrists and held them in place to prevent him from doing anything else.

  “What do you want?”

  “Day after tomorrow, I’m going to oversee a run. Do you need anything?”

  A run? Again? He’d just gone out two weeks ago. He was always careful and meticulous about supply grabs. I couldn’t think of a single thing lacking right now.

  I didn’t like the idea of him leaving the camp unless necessary. There were way too many assholes that would love to take out the infamously mysterious leader of the Stags and Lazarus.

  I kept my lecture to myself, though. It wasn’t as if he’d heed anything I advised. Warnings were nothing but triple dog dares to Samael.

  “I do need something…” I trailed off, playing up the small traces of innocence I still possessed.

  “Which is?” he asked, back to sounding as impassive as ever.

  I smiled sweetly. “My freedom.”

  His grip tightened; a quiet laugh unfurled between us, causing my heart to flutter and my stomach to flip again.

  “You’re a little too old to believe in shit that isn’t real. Do you want a unicorn, too?”

  “Yes, then I can shove its horn up your ass.”

  “Where did my sweet girl learn to talk like that?”

  “You.”

  He laughed and used my grip on his wrists to pull me closer.

  “Sammy?” Dawn’s soft voice carried around the partial bend, slicing through the tension that was rapidly rising between us.

  Ugh. That nickname made me want to sprint down the path and drop kick her into the bonfire. She was the only other person I knew that called him something close to his real name. I had no idea why he allowed it. He’d despised being called that when we were little. Hated it. I did too. What the hell was Sammy? It sounded like something you’d call a dog.

  Ha. I smiled up at him. “Your lover’s calling for her pet. Be a good boy and go see what she wants.”

  Catching how bitter I sounded, I cleared my throat and once more attempted to get out of his hold.

  He still wouldn’t let me go.

  “Something the matter?” I couldn’t see the smirk, but I knew it was there. Of course, he’d detected my disdain. He picked up on practically everything.

  “I think you should be more worried about being caught in a compromising position.”

  He laughed again and easily broke free of the hold I had on his wrists. Hands slipping around, he applied pressure on the dimples in my lower back and pulled me flush against him. I swallowed, breathing him in as I did.

  He always smelled so good. Tonight, the comforting aroma of smoke and flames intermingled with his mint scented body wash.

  I brought my palms up to his chest to keep some semblance of space between us, feeling the outline of his physique through the shirt he had on.

  Samael wasn’t one of those ridiculously muscular beef-heads that walked around with their arms in the shape of a constipated U. He was muscled and proportionately toned in a way that made you want to run your hands over every inch of him.

  Add his ridiculously good looks on top of that, and you had the living, breathing definition of a thirst trap.

  “Maybe it’s time she learns the truth. We should let her see how hard I can make you come in sixty seconds.”

  I scoffed and leaned back slightly, keeping my mouth away from his. “Do you have to be such a vulgar pig?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t get off on it. I vividly remember a time I fucked you with nothing but my words.”

  I remembered that, too. This wasn’t okay, though. That coming from the woman insanely possessive over him. Dawn didn’t deserve to be hurt because of our inability to get our shit together.

  “She deserves better than what you’re giving her,” I hissed, hearing soft footfalls approaching.

  “You’re right. She should get all the parts of me you lost the privilege of having.”

  Ouch. I bit back the reply that immediately sprang forward, determined to hide any indication that those words had found a mark.

  “Was that supposed to bother me? I chose to drop my baggage, remember? I commend her for taking on the burden of such irreparable damage.”

  I regretted the jab as soon as I said it. I’d gone too far. A voice in my head screamed at me to take it back, but I couldn’t.

  It was too late, and, despite the words being untrue, their venom would burn all the same. He took a step away, letting me go with the smallest shove, his jaw clenching. That small display of emotion told me I’d just hurt him far more than he’d ever let on. He was always so controlled and cynical, keeping his troubles and secrets to himself.

  “You didn’t choose shit. If I wanted you, I’d have you.” He shook his head. “Your brother told me you’d never amount to anything more than a warm body.”

  “I—"

  “He said I should fuck you once or twice and then drop your ass for good. And to think I ruined his life over him telling the truth…”

  I knew precisely which brother he was referring to, and holy fuck. That was a low blow. It felt like he’d just sucker punched me in the gut. My mask momentarily slipped; my throat bobbed as I swallowed.

  Don’t you dare cry, the voice in my head seethed. I turned away just as Dawn caught up to where we were standing.

  “Hey,” she chirped. “Is everything okay?”

  I could hear the genuine concern in her voice as she picked up on the obvious strain.

  I didn’t bother looking back or listening for his response. I couldn’t take seeing them together right now, and I didn’t want to dig the hole I was in any deeper.

  You weren’t supposed to allow words to hold power over you. You weren’t supposed to let them hurt.

  And they didn’t.

  They obliterated.

  They burrowed into my soul and engraved themselves on the bleeding pieces of my heart. It was impossible to argue with someone who seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. Every time pointless hate spewed from our mouths, the decision I’d come to weighed on me that much more.

  If we kept this up, there’d be nothing left of us when the shrapnel from our bullets finally turned to dust.

  CHAPTER SIX

  He said wildflowers made him think of me. Every morning there was a fresh bundle waiting when I woke.

  Today wasn’t any exception.

  A triangle of early morning light shined through my Tiffany Blue curtains, and there on the dresser, just in front of the window, sat a white bouquet, handmade and carefully wrapped together with a thin black ribbon—black being my f
avorite color.

  Whoever said it wasn’t a color could kiss my ass. Black was the outcast on the spectrum, often used to represent darkness. It reminded me of him. Maybe that’s why I loved it so much. Samael had never forgot that either.

  I don’t know where he went to get the flowers, or why, but he never skipped a day and always made sure I was asleep before slipping in here to deliver them. I’d tried to catch him in the act, failing time and time again.

  I anxiously anticipated when he would stop. I didn’t deserve this gesture from him in the first place, but no matter how badly we cut each other down, regardless of how we made the other hurt, he continually reminded me he wasn’t going anywhere. He hadn’t forgotten about me.

  In that regard, he kept the promise we’d made to one another.

  Tossing the comforter off by kicking at it, I sat up and swept a hand through my hair to move it out of my face, blinking to clear the sleep from my eyes. Aside from the faint squeaking sound coming from the main room, the cabin was still and silent. If Samael had slept here last night, he was long gone by now.

  The clock on the far wall had stopped ticking at a quarter past midnight going on three days ago. I really needed to do something about that, but then what would be the point? It wouldn’t matter soon anyway.

  If I had to guess, it was breakfast time, which meant I needed to get my butt in gear. I got up and shuffled over to the dresser, opening a few different drawers to compile a simple outfit. Underwear. Bra. Shorts. Simple tank, socks, and an overshirt. I’m sure you can guess what color everything was.

  Bundle of clothes in hand, I pushed through the piece of fabric that served as a door to my room and cut across the sole portion of the cabin. It wasn’t a big space, but it was undeniably cozy. The AC in the front window was the culprit for the squeaking. This machine was a life saver. Without it we’d be like pigs roasting on a spit in here.

  There was a living area, kitchen, and a small space for a table. While the furniture was scarce, all of it was in fairly good shape. Amazing shape, when you took into consideration that it had to be brought to what was basically the middle of the damn woods.

  A perusal of the sofa showed everything exactly as it had been the day before. The two plaid pillows and matching throw hadn’t been disturbed. The chest and small dresser where Samael kept some of his things looked the same as well. Normally I’d have to resituate everything once he left.