Page 99 of Let Us Prey
Her voice is wobbling when she protests, so I know the bulbs in her dim mind are flashing in panic. “Well, Delores, if you can’t manage to locate a reasonable replacement for the hyena, then as your parents, it’s our responsibility to see you’re provided for.” I wait again, my lips curving up as I sip the martini. “I encourage you to open a dialogue with whomever has piqued your interest, because if you have not announced a courtship by the end of the school year, we will do it for you.”
Matilda walks in, and I know my machinations have ended. Even though I’ve cut off their communication, I know better than to trust anyone in overhearing my plans.
The walls have ears, as they say.
“Delores, stop babbling. I’m tired of this conversation, and you’ve heard my decree. Remember to beautify yourself before you go to bed; your looks don’t have too long of a shelf-life, and on that note, I suggest you entice someone soon, or we’re marrying you to the highest bidder.”
Ending the call, I glare at my assistant, annoyed that she interrupted my threats, just as I was getting on a roll. “Bring that tray over immediately, and freshen my drink while you’re at it. Talking with my daughter dehydrates my fur.”
“Yes, madam,” she mumbles as she walks over to do my bidding. Her expression is crestfallen and I have to hide the smile on my face at her pathetic loyalty to my daughter.
“Don’t get your wings in a twist, Matilda. I’m only looking out for Delores. She’s not meant to succeed in our world, but for better or worse, she’s been raised to be a part of it. Bruno and I have to ensure she finds a husband so she won’t be on her own.”
She looks suspicious, and I don’t blame her—I’m not one for compassion. However, I force my face into a mask of concern that eventually wears the hawk down. She nods and murmurs, “Miss Delores needs solid allies on her side, madam. As always, you are correct.”
I almost snort; it takes monumental control not to. What my daughter needs is to be sold off to Vito Romulus, so I can at least make a profit off of her. Otherwise, our investment in her life has been a waste of capital.
We’ll consider that Plan C.
“Of course I am, Matilda. Now leave me alone while I finish my maintenance routine. Your presence makes my eyes ache.”
She curtsies, and I roll my eyes as I watch her leave. I wonder if I should allow her a relationship with Delores again, if only to have another way to gather intel. After all, what kind of leader would I be if I didn’t use all the tools at my disposal?
And they arealltools.
Laughing at my joke, I sip my drink as I continue to scheme, having no intention of snoozing anytime soon.
Sleep is for the weak.
FIFTY-FOUR
Snowman
Aubrey
When I awoke this morning to find the campus covered in snow, I sourly stomped to the sitting room with my coffee. My kind is more suited to hot weather, and winter chills make the Tower drafty. It randomly occurred to me during my correspondence with several sister-school archivists in various climates that the cold might be just as difficult on Delores. Our girl isn’t an Arctic hare, and from what I’ve seen of her fur, it won’t be enough to keep her warm while she’s here during the break.
Plus, it’d be harder to get her to naked if she’s… Nope. That line of thought is off-limits for the moment.
It took a bit to rouse Rennie—he’s not a morning person in the slightest—but once he was coherent, he agreed, and was more than happy to fly into town with me to purchase a myriad of space heaters for the frequently-used spaces in the Tower. He also insisted on purchasing an extra desk with materials for homework, about twenty cases of Dr. Pupper, and other household junk I’ve always talked him out of before. This time it’s to make Dolly feel welcome, so I simply watched indulgently. It was good to see him throwing things into a cart like a kid in a candy store, and the smile on his face made it impossible to grump about spending a fortune on silly, decorative bullshit.
That bunny has us all wrapped around her little finger, and I doubt she has the slightest clue.
Since her mother called to confirm she was staying at Apex for Christmas, our girl has seemed a tad…pensive.I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, because she’s hid it well, but there’s something bothering her that she doesn’t seem to want to talk about. I tried using her truth game, but all I got out of her was that her middle name is Diamond, that those bitchy ex-friends of hers had dosed her with pred-stasy one night last spring, and she’s planning some brand of revenge with her new friends for the talent show in the spring.
“Flames, what else can we have delivered to the Tower? We’ve never really celebrated the holidays together before, and I want to make sure Dolly feels at home,” Renard says as he thoughtfully looks around the vast store.
I snort, arching a brow at him. “I’m fairly certain anything we do will make her happy, if it doesn’t resemble her parental home, Rennie. But I don’t disagree—she deserves to have a nice holiday.”
He wanders over to a nervous-looking tapir shifter, talking to him animatedly for a moment before returning. “I have plans.”
Uh-oh. I’ve somehow activated mother hen Rennie.
“You realize Dolly can’t… move… anywhere, right? At least, not at the moment,” I say carefully, remembering the last time he had plans was when my quarters were upgraded.
The gargoyle looks at me as if I’ve lost my marbles, scoffing. “Of course not. That is far too presumptuous. We’re going to look at winter gear while that gentleman’s staff makes arrangements for decorations to be delivered to the Tower, along with every pillow, blanket, and cushion they have in stock. Now, quit frowning and let’s go!”
Vengeful Ra, the Tower is going to resemble a magazine spread from Pred Simple.
