Page 125 of Let Us Prey

Finally, I hit the bottom of the list, and my eyes widen. My dragon’s fury hits me before I can stop it and I half-shift in the middle of her room. Wings flex and smoke puffs out of my nose as I fight to rein in the fire and brimstone my animal wants to use to lay waste to everyone he can find who is involved with this.

Who am I kidding? He’d lay waste to this entire hellhole except for the few people I give a shit about.

“Aubrey, is that you?” Her voice is so small again. It makes my chest ache and the fire burn hot inside of me as my dragon rumbles about mates and enemies and murder. “Why are you down here puffing like a magic dragon?”

I snort, almost laughing at her ability to be adorable even when she’s clearly in pain. “I… came to, uh, leave a note…but the lights were off and the door was open…”

She sniffles and shakes a bit on the bed for a second, then takes in a breath. “Did I hit you with the phone?”

“No.” I pause for a moment, looking down at the email that has my wings, tail, and fangs twitching. “But my dragon needs to knowwho. did.this. to. you?”

She sighs and shrugs, looking more defeated than I’ve seen before. “One of the Heathers—she’s bragging about it to her followers because apparently, it’s completely okay for her and her cronies to get me kicked out of school. It’s only my future they’re messing with.”

It takes a massive amount of control not to roar like a beast. The spoiled assholes who attend school here are rarely aware of anything beyond their own needs, but this reeks of a level of narcissism I’m not used to dealing with.

What kind of person gambles with someone else’s future prospects over a petty squabble?

I know the answer to that—one with no moral compass and a troubled psyche. But my realization isn’t helping my dragon calm down, nor is it helping our girl feel better. Fixing her problem will come after I comfort her, when she’s ready to hear potential solutions. So despite my half-shifted form, I walk over, dropping onto the bed, and gather her in my arms.

Delores wraps herself around me like a spider monkey, clinging to my chest as she lets the water works out again. I assume this trivial problem is bothering her more than the murders and people hunting her because it’s such an unnecessary addition to her already full plate. It didn’t need to happen and the fact that she’s stuck dealing with the machinations of vicious backbiting instead of more important things chafes.

“It’s just so h-h-hard. I’m busting my ass to do well in classes and keep out of the line of fire, but every time I succeed, those bitches roll up to knock me down again,” she says in a raspy voice.

Stroking her back gently, I nod as my wings wrap around her as well, forming a cocoon. “We all see how hard you’re working, lunchable. Even Fitz knows, and getting him to pay attention to anything that doesn’t involve you being naked is almost impossible.”

That makes her giggle a little and I almost fist pump in excitement. Score one for the old ass grouch who has no idea what he’s doing. Maybe I’m not the worst person for this situation, after all.

“He really has two modes—hyper-focused or off the rails.” I feel her smile fondly against my neck. “It’s endearing once you learn to work with it.”

I blink. “You know how to get Fitz to flip the switch? Really?”

She shrugs, her fingers tracing patterns on my skin that leave fiery trails of sensation. “No, it’s more like I’ve figured out how to work with him, no matter which mood he’s in. I adapt instead of making him adapt, and it’s much easier.”

Son of a two-faced chaos god, she’s brilliant.

“Well, if you’re smart enough to figure out our resident psycho, you sure as hell don’t need to plagiarize a fucking Shifter History paper.” I growl softly, furious that no one brought this to my attention before they issued edicts. I certainly have the damn software to check for that shit and even if I didn’t, I spend much of my time authenticating texts.

“That asshole hates me, anyway. He’d believe the fucking moon is made of green cheese if one of those girls told him so. I can’t decide if he wants in their pants or in their parents’ graces.” She sighs heavily, a shudder rippling through her. “Either way, I’m the one getting screwed.”

My smile is more of a grimace because I feel her heat against me and this is the absolutely wrong time for my body to agree with her declaration. Instead, I press a kiss to the top of her head, hoping that helps soothe her jagged edges. “Probably, if Fitz has his say, but I think if you give me a chance, I might help.”

She looks up at me with teary eyes, her expression hopeful. “Really? How?”

“Fitz is quite skilled with nefarious online things and I believe if he can get definitive proof of their bragging, plus I can match thepaper in question to someone else’s work, we will have enough proof to present to Henrietta. She won’t be able to ignore it if two professors show her powerful evidence.” I pause and tilt my head. “I’ll need a copy of the original paper you submitted as well.”

“I can give you that. I mean, it’s the one I worked on upstairs last week. All of you answered questions for me when I asked, even Fitzy. It’s not like I didn’t do the work.” She sighs again and burrows her face against my chest before muttering, “But that didn’t matter because some jizz stain must have switched them after I turned them in or something.”

“It’s possible—or the girl who accused you is crazy enough to have claimed your work is hers. I think it’d be just as easy for someone who isn’t as smart or talented, but very petty, to have reported you with little proof and this happened as a knee jerk reaction. Henny despises conflict and bows to power to avoid it.”

Dolly sits up, looking at me with disbelief. “You’re saying she might have just taken this bitch at her word with nothing to back it up? Expulsion would ruin my future and the morons in charge might have just said ‘okay, your word is good enough for me’ before they sent that email?”

I nod, my expression rueful. “Possibly. You stood up to three of your tormentors so far, according to Felix. They may have gotten the message, but someone looking to get in their good graces wouldn’t worry about it.”

Her voice is dripping with bitterness as she mutters, “Fucking Yellow. I knew that simpering little twat was going to be trouble, especially after Professor Z started slapping her down.”

My eyes narrow when my dragon hears its target. I lift her chin, looking at her as I ask carefully, “Who the fuck is Yellow?”

Eyes sparkling, she shrugs and says, “I call the Heathers by their color because it’s easier. That one is Heather M. She’s new this semester—a transfer from Bloodstone, she says. I doubt that, though, because I’d think she’d be… tougher? But she’s not.”

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