Page 110 of In Prey We Trust

Lucille

Glaring at the idiots on the big screen, I lean back in my chair. Matilda scurries over with a fresh martini, avoiding Bruno as he lurks in the background. He’s been overseas checking in with his various vendors to make certain the shenanigans of these freaks aren’t disrupting cash flow to the Council businesses. I enjoyed having him gone and I won’t deny that I considered arranging for him to have an ‘accident’ while he was far away. It would have been convenient for several reasons, the least of which he wouldn’t be stomping all over my Berber like a bumbling fool now.

I refuse to stoop to the same bullshit the men on our Council resort to when they tire of their spouses—it’s so plebeian and boring.

I’ll deal with my lumbering oaf when I have fewer issues that outweigh his irritating presence. For the moment, I have bigger fish to fry. The escalation of kidnappings that occurred last week was a direct challenge to our authority. It forced me to have our nitwit government puppets pull satellite footage and comb through it since the beginning of the school year in hopes we’d find clues about our enemies.

Imagine my surprise when one of the eggheads approached me with clips of useless progeny and the Khan spare fighting off a band of magic users on their way to Capital Prep. Her skills and the way she hid this from every spy I have planted at that ridiculous place briefly impressed me, but then I realized what it meant.

Not only have the magic wielding scum crawled out of their holes to challenge us, but my daughter has been fighting them without my knowledge.

In our world, such ignorance can dethrone even the most powerful leaders, and I’m no exception. Bruiser took care of the wimpy analyst—he won’t be talking to anything other than Ouija boards—but that’s only half the problem. The attack on our most treasured school last year was no outlier. Indoctrination from birth will not prevent the younger preds from questioning what they’ve been taught if the spell casting trash use the internet as a platform.

That’s why I have the leaders from around the world on this wretched video call listening to them bluster about missing kids and the dopey Hopewell heir. I need to see them all to verify none of the current Council have wavered in their commitment. The history of our dominance over the other supernaturals is a legacy started by ancestors of the men and women on this call, but most of their lines have grown soft over the years. If the races of magic wielded have banded together to reveal themselves, this plan has been in motion for much longer than the past year.

I won’t stand for weakness and anyone who refuses to stomp them out as our families intended will be dealt with severely.

“And no one at this party saw a thing! How is that possible? Why wasn’t there security?” Hannah Hopewell booms her question like the brainless bear she is while her figurehead husband cowers behind her.

Her tone is unacceptable and I rise from my chair, crossing to stand in front of the screen. “Are you suggesting the Council are mind readers? I thought that sort of thing offended your deep faith.”

“Well, no, I don’t think magical scum tainted any of our members, but—”

“Perhaps you believe I knowingly put my heir in danger by not protecting a silly college party?” I arch a brow at them as I sip my drink, waiting to see how they respond.

“Come off it, Lucille,” Erickson snorts. “You sent that girl to the wolves after declaring her persona non grata last year. We all know you don’t give a rat’s ass about her.”

Look who thinks their techie toys are a substitute for a pair of balls.

“It is a tradition in the Rostoff empire to teach our offspring to learn to defend themselves. We don’t coddle our young like some families do. That’s why Delores isn’t busy waging war on a lost cause, like your daughter is.”

“No, she’s busy screwing half the fucking staff,” Barrington snarls dismissively. “Though I suppose we’re focusing on the wrong issue with your defective progeny. She’s prey, so it’s no surprise she’s a whore.”

My hand pauses on its way to bringing my martini to my lips. A slow, cruel smile spreads over my face as I meet his gaze. “You’d prefer she was pretending to be Bruno’s wife instead, Oliver? Your bumbling bimbo has achieved little to nothing in her brief life, save failing to quash the rumors that you replaced your mysteriously departed wife with your teenage daughter.”

My strike hits as he turns pale as a ghost; I always knew that old pervert wasn’t trustworthy around young girls.

“I have never…”

Bruno snorts, letting me know Barrington might not have fooled around with his dimwitted offspring, but I’m close to the mark. It’s guaranteed he’s been screwing high school girls and his daughter likely provided the buffet. My lip curls in disgust, but I’m not surprised by the lechery of old rich men. My father makes his fortune off of the weakness of men like him and that trade has been our family’s staple crops for generations. It will be a pressure point for all future negotiations. And… he handed me the gun to hold to his head on his own.

“We’ve gotten off-topic,” Septimus Charles says. He looks bored, but that’s the norm for the fifth-in-line moron the Charles family had to resort to naming an heir in his generation. Like the others, he’s weak willed and lazy, living off the profits from formulas developed by his more ruthless predecessors. “The real reason for this meeting is deciding how we are going to respond to this nonsense.”

“It didn’t matter when the missing students were lower tier preds,” Hannah sniffs. “Now that we know they tried to poison the heirs and have kidnapped one of them, we must act.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” I snort at the cowering fools. “Hannah, your mental prowess is astounding.”

“This bullshit has broken a third contract with Birkshire. I am owed recompense by the Council for their refusal to deal with this last year after the disaster at Apex!”

“And what recompense would you like, Bram? You’ve been granted new contracts for your useless son twice now. He wasted his opportunity with Delores by acting like a half-witted stray and you cannot possibly blame us for Maclachlan’s girl killing a random student. She was stupid enough to get caught. Is that the stock you want to breed?”

This kind of shortsighted blister is why I prefer meetings to be in person. They all feel powerful enough to question me from afar, but in person, I would destroy anyone who dared demand anything from me. Berkshire is a minor member and certainly not high enough to question the Society members. But he forgets himself on video—a mistake I’ll make certain he regrets later.

“Your daughter is damaged goods, just as Ollie said!”

That was his ultimate mistake.

“I’ll pass on your thoughts to the Raj when I’m negotiating her marriage to three of his sons. I’m sure the Khans will appreciate your perspective.” I snap at Matilda, who runs up with a stack of folders fearfully. “Likewise, I’ll mention it to the dragon king and the gargoyle queen.”

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