Page 97 of Let Us Prey
“Dolly, queen of the downtrodden—it fits you, girl.” He chuckles and waves at Cori, trying to get her to stop flirting with an artsy-looking aquatic shifter by the lake entrance. “Coco needs to shake a leg; I’m starving.”
Before I can respond, a ridiculously realistic-looking newspaper is plopped on the table in front of me. I turn my head, and like a bad case of the clap, the Heathers are back. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with, my ex-friends seem determined to continue harassing me like creepy stalkers, even though I avoid them. Rufus picks up the paper, not even giving them the courtesy of looking in their direction. When he sees the headline, he hands it to me with a huff of annoyance.
SHOULD APEX ACADEMY ENACT A MORAL CLAUSE IN ITS HONOR CODE?
A Student Perspective by Heather Barrington
Apex Academy has a long tradition of excellence.
Its students are known for representing the school and their families with the utmost refinement and grace, whether in public or in private. When the administration allows unworthy students to not only attend our school but also flaunt their deviant behavior, it reflects poorly on all of us.
Our current honor code does not have a moral turpitude clause like many other honored institutions around the world; however, recent changes in the student body and their relations with multiple staff members calls that decision into question.
Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose. It’s getting easier to write these pathetic losers off because they’re so incredibly off-base in their accusations that it’s laughable. Between the four of them, they’ve slept with more guys than I have and I’m dating five. I don’t care who they fuck, or even who they procreate with, but I’m getting mighty godsdamned tired of being slut-shamed for my own business.
The least they could do is get it right if they’re going to publicly call me out for my private life.
Cori glares at the Heathers as she approaches, hand on her hip and murder in her eyes. “You know, this article is already all over social media. Now it’s in the school paper. It seems to me that this kind of accusation—made with school resources, no less—might constitute… bullying. Aren’t there a few lines in the honor code aboutthat?”
I nod. “There are more than a few lines, Coco. In fact, I’m fairly certain it’s grounds for expulsion.”
Heather E. crosses her arms over her chest, looking at her acolytes for confirmation before she speaks. “I believe you’ll find nothing libelous in this article, DD. If you can even know what that word means.”
Smartest fish in the room, right here.
Rufus barks a laugh, turning to her with bared fangs, morphing from fun-loving to gangster in the blink of an eye. “Oh, honey. You’re going to want to trot your bleached-fried bobbleheads elsewhere with that legalese. My family doesn’t worry much about the courts; we have our methods of meting out justice when necessary. Don’t you winter in Vail? I have cousins out that way... "
“Skiing can be pretty dangerous,” Cori says, tapping her lips with her sparkly nails. “I’d be fine stranded on a snowy mountain, but I don’t think you hot-blooded fish faces would do too well.”
Amusement quirks the corner of my lips, and I’m grateful once again for my new friends. Who else would threaten to murder my ex-besties as casually as they discussPrey’s Anatomy?
“That’s a threat! I’m going to the Headmistress’ office immediately!” Heather E. fumes.
“Good luck with that. Bye, Felicia!” Rufus calls as they stalk off as a group. He looks at me and then at the paper. “Dollypop, you are a drama magnet and I amhere for it.I haven’t threatened anyone in days. I almost couldn’t remember how.”
Wiping my hands down my face, I groan. “I’m glad you enjoy it because I am beyond over it. We need to work on a plan to deal with them, because I’m sure they’re not done, and I definitely cannot do four more years of that dance.”
Leaning in, Cori gives me a crafty smile. “It’s all about making them look bad and you look like the next big thing. I think we can come up with a plan.”
Did I mention these guys are the best friends a bunny could have?
FIFTY-THREE
A Little Wicked
Lucille
“Matilda!”
Where in the name of Croco Chanel is that useless bird?
“On my way, Madam!” The panicked squawk echoes through the house, and it makes my lips curve up.
I can imagine her huffing her way from whatever hole she was hiding in while I completed my evening beauty regimen. That is a task I do not include my witless assistant in—no one needs to know what lengths I go to, in order to maintain my flawless appearance.
Information like that would end up on PredMZ in the blink of an eye.
The master bedroom is my domain, with every item placed for my convenience. Unlike some wives, I don’t have to worry about my oafish husband stomping around my space, as Bruno hasn’t slept on the same floor as me since Delores was conceived, which pleases me to no end. I only open the doors to my boudoir for those worthy of sharing my bed—young, fit shifters who haven’t been coddled since birth.
