Page 71 of Made in Malice

“What did they say?” Lucian asks, watching Nova.

“Nothing, the doctor needs to read it,” she responds with a hint of attitude in her voice.

“Is it broken?” He turns his question to the girl with us.

“I didn’t see anything obvious, but the doctor will take a look at it and let you know. I’ll make sure he has everything he needs,” she says and heads back the way she came, taking the guy who brought me back with her.

“Did this really happen the other night?” I’m looking between Nova and Lucian.

“Yes.” Nova sighs and enters the room Lucian was waiting near, then drops into a shitty green chair.

“You got hurt when you fell, and you didn’t say anything?”

“It’s not a big deal,” she hedges.

“And she didn’t get it looked at until I made her,” Lucian adds.

“You didn’t make me do anything. We have an arrangement,” she argues softly as if she’s too tired to fight with him.

“What arrangement?” I question my brother with interest, but Nova answers for him.

“I came here, and he has to tell me what he knows about my family and the founder crap.”

I smirk in Lucian’s direction, knowing how badly it must piss him off that she got something out of him. “Shut up. She screamed when I barely touched her.”

I raise my hands in surrender. I’m totally fine with a mutually beneficial trade, especially if it helps gain her trust. “Works for me.”

Dr. Amboni, our family physician, walks through the door in a pair of tan pants and a polo. He looks like he was pulled off the golf course to come here, but he probably just dresses like a yuppie under his coat all the time and I didn’t notice.

He inclines his head toward me and Lucian. Even he can’t tell us apart without asking. “Morningstar.”

Lucian doesn’t bother with a greeting. “Results.”

“Sprain. From the way you described the fall, I’m not surprised.” I glance over at Lucian, wondering if the doc knows he was the one who caused her to fall, not that he would care either way. He’s paid to keep his mouth shut and do what we ask.

“We’ll wrap it to help with the swelling and keep it immobile. You should be fine in six weeks.”

“Six weeks?” Nova cries out, clearly shocked.

“Could be four, but there’s some ligament damage.” Dr. Amboni gives her a little shrug.

“It’s not a cast though, right? I’ll be able to work?”

Lucian barely moves his head from left to right in denial, but the doctor sees it and reacts accordingly. “Not for a few weeks at least. Why don’t you come by the office the week after next, and we’ll do another X-ray to see where we are?”

“I’m going to lose my job,” she mutters morosely. I almost feel bad, but then I remember she shouldn’t need to work. I don’t even know why the Umbras make her.

“What should she take for the pain?” Lucian asks.

“Ibuprofen works great for swelling, unless you want something stronger.” The doc specifically addresses Lucian, even though he’s not the patient.

“I’ll take Tylenol,” Nova mutters.

“Bad reaction to ibuprofen?” Amboni asks.

“Bad kidneys,” she responds, causing Lucian and I both to say, “What the fuck?” in unison.

“Not your concern.” She glares before speaking to the doctor. “Are we wrapping this up or what? I need to get home.”

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