Page 12 of Let Us Prey
Probably me, let’s be honest.
My adrenaline settles as I work. I know Cash was simply resolving pack tension just now—and that I wasn’t in any real danger—but something was still off about our interaction. He hasn’t been the same wolf since we got here, and I worry about how much he’s still carrying alone. Our alpha fully shouldered the blame for why the three of us ended up at Apex, but I don’t believe either Bash or I consider him responsible. This is just a guess, since it’s not like any of us have evertalkedabout what happened, much less how we feel about it.
A Romulus isn’t supposed tofeelanything—unless it’s domination flavored with a side of vengeance.
Now that we’ve left Bloodstone, Cash is technically free to do whatever the hell he wants, yet he still behaves like a man doing penance. I shouldn’t judge, and it would be hypocritical of me to pretend I don’t have my own demons to contend with, or a cargo hold full of my own baggage.
I know better than most how it feels to want what you can’t have.
“…and I swear, Nico, when I’m around her I feel like… like I’m hungry all the time or like I drank too much. I dunno, but it’s fucking weird. Anyway, D’s really interesting and you need to give her a chance and stop being such a squirrelly little bitch about the whole thing.”
I'm astonished to realize Bash has been enthusiastically talking to me this whole time, about agirl.About a girl he wants tohang out with,outside of the bedroom—an angelic-looking, artistically-inclined, candy-scented girl who I find myself drawn to in ways I don’t fully understand. And thanks to some glitch in the matrix, my notoriously jealous beta is okay withmebeing insanely attracted to someone else, despite past experiences.
I suddenly realize Cash includedhimselfwhen he said this girl is getting under ‘our’ skin. Considering what happened the last time we all found ourselves in similar—frowned upon—situations, there’s no way this can end well, for any of us.
I sure hope the other guys don’t run across her as well…
EIGHT
It’s Strange
Aubrey
Music streams from my DiePhone as I relax on my throne—one of the few things I like about the cursed device. This is one of my least favorite times of year, and I need the calming influence of EDM to keep from losing my shit as my Smackbook dings with a regularity that defies logic. Giving my newest mochi a squeeze, I inhale deeply, counting to ten slowly. My new stress ball is courtesy of that meathead, Sebastian, as are the new breathing techniques. He’s been strangely helpful with sharing stress relief techniques lately—something I would have never predicted nor believed if you’d told me it would happen.
Of course, until a few years ago, I would have called you stupid if you said I’d be friends with a pack of wolves, much less those from the Romulus clan. That family is full of crooked, bloodthirsty criminals, and the entire shifter world knows it. Running Bloodstone for the Council is merely a side hustle that gives them unwilling victims to play with whenever they choose. No pred in their right mind goes anywhere near that wasp’s nest if they can avoid it.
When the three of them first came crashing into Apex, full of resentment and righteous anger, they were different from they are now. Cash is almost tolerable—when he’s not trying to boss around two royals older than his family line—and Nico has come out of his shell nicely. Bash is still Bash, but he’s a lot less overtly psychotic than he was when they first arrived.
Lately, though, he’s been almost… tame.
The start of the school year is a chaotic nightmare for most of us, but he usually spends the first month screwing his way through the first-years like he’s trying to win a contest. Renard actually makes us play ‘Fist, Fang, Claw, Bite’ to decide who has to applaud his conquests, but not this year. It’s very odd, especially paired with his happy-go-lucky helpfulness over the break. Bash isn’t known for volunteering to run errands or grab supplies in town, but every time we needed anything, he jumped on his bike so fast you’d think they were giving away pred-stasy samples.
If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t ponder their motives, but Sebastian…
The near silent creak of the main doors rouses me from my musings, and I leap to my feet. Betsy, my ostrich assistant, is working in Admissions this week, helping with passwords and other shit I’d never touch, so the intruder can’t be her. No one should be in my haven right now but me. I’m long past thinking my clan would send someone after me—my detractors have gotten what they wanted over the centuries, be it land, power, or wealth. However, Apex is still a dangerous place on any day, and after the poisoning of students at the Shifter Secondary prom, I refuse to be surprised.
My wings fold in as I quietly creep towards the balcony, knowing the upper level is cloaked in shadows. Much like my gargoyle companion, I prefer the dark, and my night vision is superb. Whoever is invading my library won’t be able to see me until I—
“Um, hello? Is anyone here? I’m supposed to be an aide? Hello?”
Who in the hell signed up to be a library aide and why in Anubis’ name wasn’t I consulted?
Rage bubbles up in my gut as I stalk to the railing, forgetting my half-shifted form as I jump over it and crash to the oak floor far below. Shaking my foot out of the hole I created for what might be the hundredth time, I let out a roar of frustration. I hate being unprepared as much as I hate having these idiotic rich prats in my beautiful sanctuary of knowledge.
“I did not consent to having some vapid twit lounging around my—”
The insult catches in my throat as my gaze lands on the girl standing in front of the main doors. It’s the Botticelli-esque cherub from the prom, clad in the ridiculously sexy school uniforms they insist on putting the girls in. I didn’t get to speak with her that night because some slavering hyena was dragging her around like an accessory, but I’ve thought about her all summer long. Purely intellectually, of course, because she was one of the few students who didn’t barf all over the ballroom like they were trying to recreate the Nile. I’ve been working with the nursing staff and the scientists at the DHHS to identify the toxin and what specific properties of the laced punch counteracted it, so her input would be valuable to our studies.
That’s all.
“Um… are you the librarian?”
Her question startles me out of yet another twisted train of thought that hasn't fully formed, and I rumble in frustration. It would be much easier to find answers if there weren’t so many blasted people trying to speak to me all the time. “I am the caretaker of the Draconis Memorial Library, yes. Who are you?”
A slight furrowing of her brow and a pout forming around her cupid’s bow mouth tell me she’s getting upset. “I’m Delores Drew, sir. When I visited last spring on my tour, they signed me up to be a library aide three days a week, in the evening. That’s why I’m here.” Her blue eyes widen as she looks up at me. “Didn’t anyone… tell you?”
Of fucking course they didn’t tell me.
