Chapter Fourteen

Atlas

Nocturnus House is so quiet you can hear a pin drop. With only a few new recruits, there's a strong absence of the chatter and movement from before when the house was full. It used to annoy me, but now I kind of miss all the noise.

But we have to ensure that these new initiates fall in line. Part of that is tracking down this motherfucker who's threatening my pretty girl. I plan to put him on full display so everyone can see what happens when you fuck with our firecracker. When you betray Nocturnus. I thought sending the others to Absentia Asylum would have been warning enough.

The air is cold as fuck this morning. Spring is coming, but winter is still hanging on by a thread. Just like the ravens. One squawks at me as I make my way past the graveyard toward campus. I pull my hood up around my head and ignore them. They don't come to my window anymore. Not since we initiated Maureen. I pick up my stride, wanting to get today over with as fast as possible.

By the time I get to the faculty café, I've downed three vials of nightshade. I'm high as fuck and ready to flay someone. Just thinking about the things I'm going to do to this asshole gets my adrenaline racing.

It's not just about protecting her. She's more than capable of handling herself. No. It's about principle. Maureen Blackwell is ours. Mine. And anyone who thinks they can send my girl disgusting text messages is soon going to wish they were never even born.

I storm into the café and smirk when I spot my target. Professor Harker. I slap him on the back, making him spill his coffee. "Morning."

He glares at me from behind his wiry glasses. "What do you want, Thorn?" Dorian Harker isn't much older than me, but he dresses like an old man with his tweed suits and distinct side-part.

"A word." I motion for him to sit down at a corner table, far away from the curious stares and prying ears of the other faculty members. Miss Tempest has been stirring her tea for three minutes straight, pretending not to pay attention to us. And that new fucker, the one who gets off on watching us fuck our girl, is lurking at the condiment station, taking way too fucking long to put milk and sugar in his coffee.

Professor Harker rolls his eyes before taking a seat. "Cut the dramatics, Atlas. I've paid my debts to your father. I'm done with all that."

I smile tightly, my lips pursed. "I don't care about your little poison habit, Dorian. I'm here about a stalker."

He chuckles. "Oh, poor, handsome rich boy has a stalker. Shocking. I'm surprised you didn't think that one of your indiscretions wouldn't come back to bite you in the dick someday."

I slap his hand like he's a fucking child. "It's not my stalker, you fucking imbecile. Don't worry about who. Anyway, I know you have access to records here. You're going to find out who's number this is." I hold up the screenshot from Maureen's phone.

He swallows down his pride, his frustration, his fucking balls. His cheeks burn bright red as he struggles with the fact that my family fucking owns him. We know things that could ruin his entire fucking life. But I'm still a student, and the fact that I hold any power over him… it must drive him insane.

He takes a small bite of his scone and washes it down with a sip of coffee. I can't help but notice the way his fingers tremble around the mug. "I can't just give you confidential records, Atlas. I could lose my fucking job."

I snicker. "You will lose your fucking job if you don't, Dorian. Or did you forget about what happened last summer after the garden party at my father's house?" He got so hopped up on poison that we found him having an orgy with three of my classmates in the pool house. I sure as fuck took a video of that shit.

His gaze darts around the room as all the color drains from his face. "How long are you going to hold that one over me? I was not in a good place. But it was all consensual."

I shrug. "I don't really give a fuck if it was or wasn't. Doesn't make the video go away. But you know what does, Professor Handsy? You getting me that info. Today."

"You… you'll get rid of the video?" His throat bobs as it beads with sweat.

"Sure. That's just one of them. But it's probably the most incriminating. I'll hang onto the others. That must have been one hell of a fucking summer vacation for you," I taunt.

His cheeks redden again. "Fuck you, Thorn. Fuck you and your whole fucking psycho family."

I arch an eyebrow. "Should I post the video on the Tenebrose page first? Or maybe I'll start by emailing it to the dean."

"No. Stop. I'll get you what you want."

Of course, he will.

"Good. I'll meet you in your office in fifteen minutes. Don't want any of your peers to see us leave together. They might get the wrong idea." I wink and swipe his scone as he reaches for it, taking what's left of it with me as I strut out the door.

I help myself to a swig of whiskey from the bottle I find in Harker's bottom drawer and make myself comfortable in his chair.

He shuffles in, glaring at me. "You going to threaten me for having that in my desk too?"

I chuckle and set it down on the desk, leaving a whiskey ring on a stack of papers. "Nah. The dean keeps a stash of weed in her desk. Doubt she'd care about this. Man, this job really brings the addict outta all of you. I think you might need to get your dick sucked more."

"I'm good on that, thanks." He grumbles and curses under his breath as he fumbles with his coat and briefcase, getting tangled up in both.

I turn his laptop around to face him as I've no intention of getting up from his desk. I set my phone with the screenshot down next to it. "Search. Now. Tell me who this number belongs to."

He sighs and leans over the screen. "It's going to take a bit. This system is old. I can't just do a Google search."

I take another swig of whiskey. "You better get started then. If you're not done in two hours, your pool orgy goes viral."

He wants to punch me so badly. I can fucking feel it in the tension between us. The way he chews on his lower lip, preventing him from saying something he can't take back. I'm a loose fucking cannon, and he knows it.

"Alright. Let me get to it then." He sits down and begins typing away.

As my boredom quickly sets in, I start pacing around the office, opening up drawers and file cabinets. Not that I'd expect to find anything juicy in here.

"You're going to kill whoever this is, aren't you?" He doesn't look up from the screen, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

I lean across the desk, so close he can feel my breath on his face. "Do you really want to know, Professor? Does that change things?" Like this fucking idiot is suddenly going to develop a conscious.

He peers up over his glasses, narrowing his eyes at me. "No."

I chuckle. "Didn't think so. Self-preservation always beats morality." I take another long pull of his whiskey before slamming the bottle on the desk. "Fuck, I love this shit."

I spend the next hour rifling through his stacks of books, critiquing them, and spoiling the ending of at least three that I can tell by the look on his face. Watching this man try not to come unglued is my new favorite pastime.

"Have you heard from your cousin, Libra, by the way? She's not back at school yet."

I shrug. "I don't keep tabs on her. She's probably waist-deep in designer bags, champagne, and fuckboys. I think our family gives this school enough money to allow her a few extra days of winter break."

Maureen hasn't heard from Libra either, but I'm not going to start worrying yet. My cousin is known for disappearing on benders for weeks at a time.

Dorian's breath hitches, and he stops typing. "Fuck."

My stomach knots. That did not sound like a good fuck. "Who is it?"

He snaps his laptop shut. "You… you don't want to know."

The rage billows inside me. I lift him out of the chair by his collar and slam him against the wall. The sigil on my chest flares. It sears my flesh, digging into my muscles like an invisible dagger. My need to protect, to defend, to avenge consumes me.

"FUCKING tell me," I roar in his face.

He whimpers but holds my gaze. "The texts came from a phone registered to Barnaby Withers… He's an errand boy for your father."

It feels as if all the veins in my neck are about to burst. I pin him against the wall, my forearm pressed into his neck. "What the fuck are you talking about? That name means nothing to me. You're lying."

He shakes his head. "I swear. He used to bring me nightshade every Friday after class. I thought I recognized the number at first, but it's been so long… I wasn't in my right mind back then."

Fuck.

I let him go, and he drops to the floor with a thud. "You will tell no one about this." I wave my finger in his face.

He pushes his glasses back up his nose. "I'd say we're square now, don't you think?"

This motherfucker. Tit for fucking tat. I snicker. "I'll get rid of the pool video. But I'm keeping the rest. And if you're wrong? Fucking hell. There won't be a place far enough away for you to run to."

He nods. "I'm not. Er, wrong or running. I might be a coward, but I'm not a liar. Maybe this guy acted on his own."

I side-eye him. "Come on, Professor, you know my father better than that. He loves leverage more than he does his own family."

"I'm sorry you were brought up that way. Truly. This world we live in… well, it's hard and unforgiving. No matter where we go, our demons follow us." His eyes are haunted, dark, and disturbed.

I suddenly feel bad for the guy. There's a reason he got hooked on poison to begin with. "We all have our vices, Professor. But eventually, not even they can keep the nightmares at bay. They end up making them worse."

"Believe me, I know," he murmurs.

I snatch the bottle of whiskey on my way out the door. "I think I need this more than you do right now."

He nods, his face pale, but he doesn't utter another word. I think we both hope that we don't have to talk to each other ever again.

I empty a vial of oleander into the whiskey bottle and shake it up before taking a huge swig. My fingers twitch, and my pulse races as I head toward the Nest to go track down Barnaby Withers. Murder would be a mercy. But I have no fucking mercy in me today. Not until he tells me exactly what my asshole father has been up to.

It takes me less than fifteen minutes to find out which room this prick is in. When you're Atlas Thorn, all you have to do is give a few girls a little extra attention, bat your pretty blue-green eyes, and they squeal like fucking pigs.

I approach the door and take a deep breath, closing my eyes as I siphon my power into the doorknob. I lift its internal latch, unlocking it within seconds. I can smell Barnaby's fear the moment he sees me barge through the door.

"Hey, you c-can't just come in here," he stammers.

My skin tingles as the fibers between my veins stretch out and pulse, filling with adrenaline and rage. I cross the room to him in two large strides, grabbing him by the throat when I'm within reach.

"You've been a naughty boy, Barnaby. Time to answer for your crimes," I threaten.

A steady stream of piss shoots out, soaking his jeans. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

I dig my fingertips into his neck, aching to crush his windpipe, knowing that I can without breaking a sweat. But I need him alive. For now.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. And you're going to tell me everything. Starting with why my father hired you to torment Maureen Blackwell." I lighten up on the pressure just enough to give him a chance to speak.

His eyes bulge, and the uptick of his pulse beats against my palm. "I-I didn't want to do it. But you know how… persuasive your father is."

Of course, I fucking know. I know him better than anyone. He's charming, good-looking, and butter could melt in his mouth. The complete opposite of Holden Graves, my father presents himself as a fucking saint. But I know better. His deceit and depravity are subtle, but they're there, simmering below the surface of his expensive suits and shiny white teeth.

"What does he have on you?"

As Barnaby shakes his head, a stream of snot drips out of his nose, landing on his upper lip. "Nothing."

Fuck. I'm losing patience with this sniveling idiot. I really want to snap his fucking neck. "Then what did he promise you?"

His eyes dart from side to side, and his snot-covered lip quivers. "He said I could play with her whenever I wanted."

My sigils surge with power, particularly the one she carved into my chest. "The fuck? You must have one hell of a death wish. She is not yours to play with." I don't know if I can stop myself from killing him. I need to breathe and calm the fuck down. At least until I find out everything.

Tears stream down his cheeks. "But he said she would be."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I need to focus. "How did you get into her dorm apartment?"

"Your father gave me the elevator key. He told me to just take a picture of her room. But I couldn't help myself… I took out a pair of her panties. They smelled so—"

I slap him hard across the face, leaving a handprint on his cheek. "You sick fuck. She belongs to me. To Nocturnus. How dare you even fucking look at her." The motherfucking audacity. I slap him again. "If I wasn't planning on killing you, I'd take you straight to Absentia Asylum right now. I'm sure they have a straitjacket with your name on it. Unfuckingbelievable."

I'd done some sick fucking things in my life but never to someone who wasn't already interested. This guy hasn't ever even had a conversation with Maureen. He's probably been creeping on her since she got here.

Barnaby pisses himself again. "Kill me? Wait, why?"

This kid is clearly delusional. If I were a better man, I'd take pity on him, show mercy, and take him to the asylum. But I possess zero empathy. I have my father to thank for that. All I care about is keeping Maureen away from him and anyone else who comes for her. My father included.

"All right, Barnie boy, time for a little nap." I tighten my grip on his neck and cut off his circulation. I don't want to kill him just yet, but I need him quiet and docile so I can get him back to Nocturnus House.

He claws at my wrists. I enjoy watching him turn from pink to blue. I let out an exasperated sigh when he finally goes limp in my arms. "Fucking weirdo."

I hoped earlier that I wouldn't have to talk to Harker again, but I need one last favor. He answers my call on the first ring.

"You were right, Professor."

He clears his throat, "I'm sorry that I was."

"I need you to give me and Barnaby a ride back to Nocturnus. He's unconscious, so I can't have anyone seeing me drag him through the woods."

He's silent for a few beats before finding his balls. "I'm guessing you're at the Nest? Take the elevator down to the cellar. There's a tunnel that leads to some brush by the forest. I'll pick you up there."

Good man. I nod even though he can't see me. "Consider us completely square after this. No more videos. We're done."

"Thank you, Atlas," he murmurs.

I click end call and snarl down at the unconscious pervert in my arms. "Me and you, on the other hand, are just getting started."