Page 78 of Let Us Prey
“Guys! Come here!” I yell, way more excited than I should be, considering there’s an actual dead body a few feet away. Dropping to the ground again, I work to finish clearing the leaves and sticks off until it’s fully revealed. I hear them approaching, and turn to face the group, grinning wildly. “Look at this! It’s a marker of some kind. Do you think it leads to a secret door? Maybe it’s how the killer escaped.”
Renard frowns, crouching beside me. His Sexy Shakespearean trunks puff out when he does, and it takes everything in me not to snort. “That’s the symbol for the secret prey tunnels.”
“I know! And the prey tunnels go all over campus, so it has to be how the murderer got away. We just have to find the door… I mean, the fisher doesn’t look like he’s been dead long, right?” I ask, as I trace my fingers over the design. The silence is deafening, and I turn to look at my guys, finding them staring at me in return. “What? Do I have something in my hair?”
“Uh, no, Lo. You’re… awfully calm about finding a dead body, given that you’re… you know.” Nico trails off and I roll my eyes.
Why. Are. Men.
“Prey. You can say it; it’s not an insult,” I snipe back, irritated that they’re underestimating me because some kid I barely knew was killed. “It’s not the first dead body I’ve ever seen—even this close—and I’m sure it won’t be the last one I see at Apex.”
Cash gives me an amused look. “No, I suppose that’s true.”
The ground shakes a little as Aubrey lands behind them, smoke curling around his face. Oh, he’s all worked up about something. “I didn’t see anyone, but I stopped by the circle and asked Zhenga to call Henny, so we should have company soon. None of us have our phones because of our… attire,” his gaze turns to me and I grin, satisfied in my petty refusal to give them pockets in their dresses.
Welcome to my world, dudes.
“I think we should explore this door another time,” Renard murmurs as he moves to stand. He holds his hand out and I take it, moving out of the way so he can kick the brush back over the marker, clearly deciding we should keep its discovery to ourselves, at least for now.
After a minute, it hits me, and I squint at the spicy Shakespeare, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You’re only speaking in iambic pentameter. I knew you sounded weird!”
“For fuck’s sake, don’t encourage him,” Cash mutters, shaking his head at us.
“Sir, yes, Sir!” I say sarcastically, giving the wolf a salute. His eyes narrow, and I feel a sizzle of satisfaction zing up my spine at the thought of getting him riled up—and what that might mean for me.
“Cherry, quit trying to give him a woody,” Bash snorts, throwing his arm around me. “We’re gonna have an audience soon.”
I tilt my head, listening intently, and realize he’s right. There’s definitely people coming—Headmistress Henrietta and some of the administration staff. Of course, I do feel awful that the fisher cat was killed, but attacks like this are usually random, and I’m always watching my own back.
Plus, maybe I now have others watching it, too.
Welcome to Apex Academy
SIC GORGIAMUS ALLOS SUBJECTATOS NUNC
FORTY-FOUR
Stupid Feelings
Aubrey
Tugging on my bowtie, I watch the room as parents drift in well past the time Henny set for this wretched meeting to begin. They’re all dressed to the nines, casually gossiping like fools, and flanked by varying amounts of staff alternating between bored and psychotic. Despite the screeching outrage over the events of Halloween night, it took an entire week for the supposedly concerned guardians of the spoiled assholes who attend this school to make time in their busy schedules to gather here. Hell, the dead kid has been buried for days now, but these self-important twits have suddenly given the untimely death the attention it deserves.
Considering all the paperwork I had to do, one could say I find it rude.
I sigh, sipping my scotch. Once again, I was elected to be a presence at an official function. None of us wanted to endure hours of whining, blustering elite families, and lurking Council members, but we all agreed we needed to have eyes on the scene. This was to not only discern what motive there could be for killing a seemingly random student, but also to experience the Drews in person. Their daughter has wormed her way into our homes, and a clinical assessment of what threat they are to her—and how that may translate to us—is necessary.
Of course, Bash volunteered to come with me, because the last time we chaperoned an event here it was ‘ the night Cherry pretty much fell in love with me,’ as if this was an enjoyable excursion. Cash overruled that fairly quickly—he knows his beta wouldn’t be able to control his ire if her mother is as odious as her reputation indicates. Honestly, I’m not sure how I’ll react, either, but ironically, I was still the one everyone felt was most appropriate to represent our group as a whole.
There’s a fucking first time for everything, I suppose.
Speak of the devils and they shall appear. The room goes silent and all heads turn as Lucille Rostoff Drew and her brutish husband, Bruno, make their entrance. She’s unironically dressed like the loyal daughter of a Russian mobster, with a garishly red designer dress, stilettos, and diamonds dripping from every available surface. Hell, the woman even has on a huge black hat, like she’s going to a godsdamned polo match. Conversely, her toothy husband is in a boxy pinstriped suit with slicked-back hair, no doubt attempting to emulate a rich businessman. Unfortunately, the croc looks more like a lumpy mafia enforcer than a Don, and it’s immediately clear who is wearing the pants in this family.
“Henrietta Shirdal!”
The reigning leopard queen booms at the Headmistress as she glides across the floor, eyes disdainfully sweeping over every single shifter as she passes. They land on me for a moment, narrowing appraisingly before she turns to face the poor eagle running towards her like a frazzled chicken. When Henny stops, she adjusts her glasses to look up at the tall, vicious pred, and mutters a pathetic apology. Within seconds, she’s taken off again towards the dais in a flurry of motion. Lucille Drew clearly wants this meeting to begin.
Too bad it could have started half an hour ago, if she and her thug spouse had been on time.
