Page 112 of Let Us Prey
“Nonsense, girl. Birth control is not something toput off.” Argyle gets up and heads for their locked medicine cabinet in a huff. “I can forgo a full belly soyoudon’t get a full belly.”
Clarice sighs and leads me to the exam table. “Don’t mind her. Being gruff is her love language. I promise she likes you.”
“If she didn’tsprayyou, she likes you,” mutters Bettina.
Well, that’s comforting.
“Don’t fret, Dolly—we’ll have you all fixed up in time for Valentine’s Day,” Clarice adds with a bright smile.
My eyes dart between the skunk, the hedgehog, and the possum.
Did she just say… Valentine’s Day? How in the hell am I going to handle that—eeney, meenie, money, moe?
SIXTY
Don’t Be Shy
Renard
After Dolly nearly sprinted out of Zhenga’s classroom, it feels fitting that I’m the one escorting her on the next date. Whereas the wolves and Flames are overwhelming at times, I'm a soothing presence who allows her to spill all the worries she keeps bottled up.
Or, I would be, if my gargoyle wasn’t on a rampage.
I assume she’s gun-shy because there are so many intricacies to shifter sexual behavior thatno onein her family saw fit to educate her on. The ‘legend of the freaky cocks’— as the lioness so eloquently put it after the film on knotting—isn’t helping her feel less ignorant, and I sense that she’s keeping her distance as she tries to process everything. Aubrey thinks I can broach the topic of her safety on campus. I have no idea how I’ll bring up that topic during our outing without making her angry, but I promised I’d try.
That’s a future Renard problem.
Mycurrentproblem is figuring out what to wear tonight, and how I’ll keep my…issues…under control.
I originally planned to take her toLa Belle Epoque, to dine under the stars. However, after recenteventsconcerning a certain fox, I changed my mind. I’ll save soaking in the moonlight for a time when my inner monster is calmer. He’s been prowling under the surface for weeks, and though I know what happened isn’t Dolly’s fault, I’m having more difficulty controlling him than I ever have in the past.
“Did the Captain drop off my keys?” I yell. Flames is in the bedroom, reading in his chair, but he should be able to hear me from the depths of my closet. Tilting my head, I wait for the huff of irritation and grin when I hear it.
“Two hours ago. They’re on the dresser. Take a chill pill!”
I cover my face with my hands, shaking my head at how ridiculous the dragon sounds when he starts spouting slang. Sebastian is always teaching him that shit, and though it’s funny, he gets touchy when it doesn’t quite land. “I’mnothyper!”
That’s probably not true. I am a little hyper.
His lack of response isn’t unusual—despite how long it took for the grumpy book dragon to let me in, he’s eerily aware of how to deal with my emotional states. I suppose knowing one another for centuries makes things smoother, but our easy companionship didn’t take long to form. He calls me out on wanting to take care of people, but the nest he built on Christmas Eve was created because he knew it would make me happy. Gargoyles sleep in groups—similarly to wolves or cats—and unfortunately for me, exile stole that comfort. It made my first few decades at Apex a nightmare.
Aubrey figured it out within a week.
But he won’t be with me tonight, and it makes me nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve operated without a wingman, and even longer since my gargoyle has been this agitated. When I’m angry, even the hundreds of years of practice soothing my instincts fall to the wayside. Unfortunately, that iron fist of control has been shaken by the reckless actions of another, and addressing it should really be Cash’s responsibility, as Nico’s alpha.
For my part, I will make sure she’s not blaming herself for actions she didn’t comprehend the depth of.
I walk through the closet, pawing through all of my clothes as I try not to panic. Delores reminds me so much of someone from long ago, and that ended in epic tragedy. What if my stars are aligning the same way? I’ll ruin it for everyone if I scare her off because of my temper and…
“I can hear you freaking out from the bedroom. Why aren’t you dressed yet?” Aubrey appears in the doorway, studying my face before he continues. “Are you brooding?”
I roll my eyes, turning to walk towards the casualwear end of the closet, so I don’t have to face him. “I amnotbrooding; I’m considering my wardrobe.”
He takes off his glasses, stuffing them in a shirt pocket—a sure sign he’s frustrated and doesn’t know how to address it. He, too, is pacifying his inner animal after the incident, and I know it’s even harder for him to keep his fury under wraps. Flame spewing rage is his Achilles heel, and even his squishy toys aren’t helping of late. We’ve gone onfarmore hunts recently than are necessary, but the carnage seems to cool him down for a little bit.
Other extracurricular activities would help, as well.
“Rennie, the snacklet likes you. She likesallof us; that’s why she agreed to this weird pentagram dating thing.”
