Page 17 of Let Us Prey
“Oh, sweetie,” Cori says. She put her hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me back inside so we can close the door. “It’s okay. My friends and I are going to help you stay safe. You seem like good people, sis, and those are few and far between in this hellhole.”
“Amen,” Rufus says, leaning in to sniff. “Now break open that food and share while we get you squared away. If we’re lucky, we’ll be done in time to catch The Real Housewolves of Chew York. I cannot wait to see if Rowena and Fenti are going to have a battle royale over Barnabas. He’s a total d-o-g, but he’s got an ass that just won’t quit.”
I look around the table, immediately grateful for the support system that seems to have adopted me, even if it’s difficult for me to accept it. For now, I can take their help and use it to stay alive, but at some point, I’ll have to distance myself from them again. I can’t have anyone else getting hurt because of me when the fur really starts flying, but until then, I can enjoy the brief respite from my loneliness.
When I finally get in a position to take my vengeance, though, that will all change. The ‘Fuck ‘Em Up, Sis’ list tucked inside my shoe is a constant reminder of what I came here to do, and every time something bad happens; I feel it like a tell-tale heart. It may take me the entire time I’m stuck in this deathtrap masquerading as a school, but I will teach those who crossed me who the real predator is—even if it damn near kills me.
That’s a promise I intend to keep.
ELEVEN
The Girl With The Flaxen Hair
Renard
Shuffling the papers on my desk, I look around the classroom I had constructed when I first arrived at Apex. I am the only professor who has an outdoor classroom for non-physical subjects, but the administration was so excited to have one of the few gargoyles living outside of our clutch on staff that they caved to my demands with little resistance. Thus, my literature classroom is in a garden extending from the recessed wall at the back of my Tower. Our view is of the lake so I can monitor my prey friends lest rowdy students give them trouble.
Over the years, I’ve made additions to my private oasis, including a wood-burning stove, hand carved chairs, lounges with pillows filled with ultra-plush goose down from a flock that migrates past the school, and a throne befitting a king that will support my weight whether I’m humanoid or fully shifted. Two years ago, I turned the foliage on top of the canopy into a self-sustaining biome, and the hanging vines and flowers allow students to enter, but also protect us from elements while inside.
This garden is one of my greatest joys, and if mouthy heirs mess with it, I simply shift and dump their asses in the middle of the lake. No one misbehaves in my classes—my wrath is not a well-kept secret. I wouldn’t have to worry about it being incurred if Henrietta would allow me to have first refusal for students signing up for my first and second-year classes, but since they are open to all, I haven’t won that battle. Yet. I hand-select the students who can attend the advanced portions and the two electives I teach for nocturnal and winged shifters.
Being the rarest shifter at Apex has its perks, and I am not above exerting my dominion to get my way. No other secondary academy in the world—not the Capital Prep, Accademia di Zanne e Artigli, Zhuanxíng U & M, or even Bloodstone—can boast one of my kind on their staff. It buys me a lot of leeway for getting what I want, including my private Tower and adjacent outdoor classroom, and forgiveness for my fury when crossed.
Of course, my quiet clock tower sanctuary stopped being entirely mine once Aubrey and I adopted the pack of Romulus castoffs a few years ago. I’ve mostly grown accustomed to their loud, bickering presence, and my old friend typically helps keep the shenanigans at bay, especially if he knows I’m in a brooding mood. The seasons affect how I relate to the world, and when the right moment strikes, I’m quite difficult to be around. Aubrey understands, though, as some of our deepest secrets have been shared over brandy and late night hunts over the centuries. The others couldn’t possibly comprehend what beings as old as us have been through—they are still perturbed about being exiled for ten measly years.
I haven’t seen one of my kind in centuries, and Aubrey only attempts to reconnect with other dragons once every quarter of millennia.Weknow what true banishment is. Cassius and I may have similar sins to pay for in the eyes of our respective families, but he hasn’t had to endure the loss of his people entirely. His brother Sebastian and Nicodemus came with him, and he’s still in contact with the Romulus head in Italy—Draconis and I did not have that luxury. We’ve spent many years forging our friendship by the light of his fire and the dark of my night. It’s why I so often concede to his diplomatic efforts when I lose my temper with the group—unless he suggests that jealousy is perhaps what’s fueling my short fuse.
Gargoyles do not get jealous of mere wolves and foxes; it’s undignified.
“Hello? Is this… uh, Gothic Literature? I’m early, but I didn’t know there was a classroom here… OOOH!”
My wings pop free and before I can stop it, I half-shift at the intrusion. Frustration hums through my veins as I gape at the beautiful girl rushing through the vines to look out over the lake full of exercising aquatic shifters. I am not normally so on edge, and half-shifting like a teenage boy popping a boner isn’t my style.
However, the external threats we are currently assessing at this school have me on a razor’s edge. Before I came to Apex, I was hunted, both for my rarity and by those who still sought revenge for my poor decision making in the past. I have not seen a poacher or a huntsman in many, many years, but poison is a favored method of their kind—so the events of prom were triggering, to say the least. I am not as convinced as my scaly companion that the situation at the dance was an attempt on Council heirs alone.
“Oh, my! This view is beautiful! And the flowers and the scent… I’ve never seen such a lovely space to learn in.” The girl turns towards me and the faint scent of cherries finally catches my nostrils. “I’m Delores Drew, by the way.”
Aine, give me strength.
This is the girl Sebastian has been droning on about all summer, and now I see the reason he’s been like a wolf pup with the zoomies for the past few days.
Delores Drew is as stunning as he and Aubrey have described. She has a classical beauty that normally wouldn’t lend itself to the rebellious body modifications she’s sporting. However, the tiny sparkles of diamonds and flower-shaped jewels only add to the picturesque roundness of her face and blonde waves that spill over her shoulders. I was loath to believe them when they both insisted that, unlike almost every single female pred stepping through the gates of this school, she’s not enhanced, but they are certainly correct.
Something about her is stirring urges I haven’t felt in a very long time.
The irritatingly sexualized uniform doesn’t hang on a malnourished frame, but drapes over supple hips and thighs. She’s tied her blouse at her waist—a uniform violation I’ll bet not one male professor has bothered to correct—and her slightly rounded belly is decorated with… oh, no wonder Bash loves this girl so much. Her damn belly ring is a diamond Preyboy Bunny symbol. Delores has the required kitten heels on, but she’s swapped the knee-highs for white fishnet stockings and her plaid skirt is rolled just enough that I can see bows at the tops of her garters.
Where in the courts of night and spring did this temptation come from?
I’ve been here since this school opened, and not once have I ever encountered a student who floated across the grass as ethereally as her. Of course, I’ve never had a student who is obviously prey with no business attending this school enter my classroom before, either.
“Professor? Did you hear me?”
I blink, shaking my head and flexing my wings in both embarrassment and irritation. I can’t decide if I’m angry at being interrupted, or embarrassed that I must have been staring at her like a full grown bat with a head injury. “Monsieur Renard, if you please. I’ve heard much about you, Delores Drew.”
Her brow furrows and she stomps her foot, her entire body transforming with rage. “Why does everyone keep saying that? Is there some sort of nasty flier up somewhere? I swear, I’ll put my fist through someone’s teeth if I have to! I barely made it out of that stupid cafeteria alive, and if it wasn’t for the ladies in the infirmary, some asshole dingo would have eaten me!”
That fire is intoxicating!Aubrey is going to love her smart mouth.
