Page 130 of Let Us Prey
The Heathers.
My ex-besties have thrown together a Pred-mart version of theCell Block TangofromChicago. It's easily the worst thing I’ve ever seen, and I’d say that even if theyweren’tmy nemeses. They’re trussed up in LaPreyla rather than lingerie designed to work on stage, and when they’re miked and moving, it’s a shitshow of nip slips and plumber’s cracks. Add to that their complete lack of rhythm, choreography that resembles a bad strip tease, and singing so off-key that it physically hurts, and you have a hot fucking mess acting like divas at Grrrammies.
I can’t decide if this is all on purpose to ruin our show or if they’re just this ignorant, but it’s making Rufus lose the plot.
“Dollypop, can youpleasetalk to that brainless twit in lighting about her timing? If they manage to disrobe on stage, I’ll fail this project and it’s a huge chunk of my grade. Iknowthe shifters in the audience won’t give a fuck about nudity, but not being able to control my cast will be a black mark on my resume, no matter what.”
I take pity on my friend, rising to walk back to the light board to talk to the owl running the spots and cans. She’s a nervous little thing, and Rufus has been taking out his frustration with the Heathers on her all afternoon. Her wide eyes settle on me through thick-framed glasses, and I give her an encouraging smile.
“Does this... " I gesture at the blinking lights, switches, and buttons. “...have programming? Like, can you cover our butts by putting something together that you could activate with a push of a button if they screw up and pop a seam? If so, that would helpeveryonerelax a little, I think.”
Specifically, a high-strung honey badger on the verge of a mental breakdown.
The tech girl nods quickly, a grateful expression on her face. “Yes, yes! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. I can set it to quickly activate and hide… inappropriate stage attire.”
I suppose that’s one way to put it. Full frontal nudity is another.
“Good. Please set it up, and also work with the sound guy to automate music to play when it cuts their mics. I appreciate it, truly. My friend isn’t a bad guy—he’s so stressed about his final grade that he’s about to pull his hair out.” She gives me a nod and a half smile, and I walk back to the row where my two friends are whispering.
When I join them, Cori throws an arm over my shoulders. “Dolly, it would probably be easier at this point just to kill the Heathers. Ru-Ru knows people who could do it.”
A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. “When they were trying to kill me, we ignored them, but when they butcher Kander & Ebb, it’s time for them to die, huh?”
Rufus harrumphs as he looks at his setlist, making scribbled notes in the margins about the various performers. The notes are hard to read and I get the impression that’s probably for the best; they may not be kind. It’s obvious most of the other performers didn’t spend the past six weeks rehearsing for this show like our crew did, and to say they are rough would be downplaying the situation. Cori’s exam was based on the costumes for our group, so she’s not as worried as he is.
“Excuse me… is anyone paying attention? My lighting is wrong again,” Heather E. whines as she stomps over to the proscenium.
I arch a brow as I look at her, unwilling to even dignify her antics with a response. E. and the Heathers’ mindless minions scared me when I first arrived, because I was alone and had no support. Now that I have Rufus, Cori, and my guys, I can see how pathetic their games are. Their own followers would leave them in a second if they found a better meal ticket, and the power they believe they wield is far less than they assume.
Herr Director gives E. a scathing look, his eyes traveling from her feet to her hair before he scoffs, “If you’d wear actual costumes, you wouldn’t have to worry about the lighting being unflattering. Since you’re determined to wear that... " he pauses and rolls his eyes. “...we don’t have a choice.”
“My father will—” Heather B. starts.
Cori whips her head around to glare at her, white fur shimmering over her form. “Look, you smelly trout. I am a good person—I do yoga, avoid red meat, and champion the little guys. But you and your friends are really testing my non-violent philosophy over here.”
My gaze cuts to Rufus and he shakes his head. Apparently, we reallydon’twant Cori to lose her whole peaceful warrior thing. If the bloodthirsty honey badger says it’s bad, I’m going to assume it’s really bad. He walks up behind her and puts a hand on her shoulder as she continues to stare down the plastics, and I mimic his actions on her opposite side.
The newest Heather goes to open her mouth, but Rufus bares his fangs. “Not the time to earn your stripes, Romulus. Back in line with you.” When the blonde slips back in line, he yells, “From the top! We’re not allowing this mess on stage if you can’t get your shit together.”
The house lights go down as the music starts, and I instinctively tense. Cori squeezes my arm and the tension seeps out of me. Ever since the whole ‘body on the balcony’ incident, I haven’t complained about sticking close to my friends or one of the guys. Even though I feel like I’m getting better at protecting myself, I learned a harsh lesson about goinganywherewithout a buddy. There’s no reason for my pride to get me killed.
As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I tilt my head and squint at the loge on stage right. My night vision isn’t as good as the other preds, but I’m fairly certain there’s someone up there. I don’t know if they have on a cloak or a hoodie, but their entire form is obscured by shadows—standing as still as a godsdamned statue, as if they’re trying not to draw attention to themselves.
If this is someone’s idea of a joke, it’s not fucking funny.
Elbowing Cori, I whisper out of the corner of my mouth, “Don’t look; don’t react. There’s some weirdo up in the balcony dressed like a fucking stalker. It could just be a creeper trying to catch a nip slip, but it could also be a psychopath.”
Maybe even THE campus psychopath...
To her credit, Cori remains calm as she covertly sneaks a peek before mimicking my tight-lipped hiss. “I see them. They don’t look big enough to have taken down some of the victims—I mean, that tiger shark shifter wasstacked, D. This idiot is probably one of the Heathers’ petty posse trying to Ghostface you on the way out.”
“My eyes are better than both of yours, ladies, and I promise that person would have to be venomous to have taken out the shark or the bear over winter break. I mean, unless they’re a fucking ninja trained in Batman skills.” Rufus’ gaze is back on the Heathers as they pranced around the stage like idiots, so he must have seen enough.
I guess I never went to watch them cheer back at Shifter Secondary. Lucille said anything but the professional Pred Games were a waste of time and energy.
Discreetly sliding my gaze back to the hooded observer, I murmur to my friends carefully. “What if there’s more than one person doing all of this? Is that possible?”
“I don’t know, Dolly. It would have to be someone who either works or attends the school. I’m not sure multiple strangers could run around the campus without being noticed,” Cori replies.
