Page 120 of In Prey We Trust

I push Fitz back, hopping off the shelf to walk over to my grumpy book dragon. Standing behind him, I put my hands on his shoulders and dig my thumbs in, hoping to release some of the tension making him rigid. “I know you’re worried, big guy, but we all are. Everyone is doing their best and we’re not going to figure everything out today. It’s going to take time, even if we don’t want it to.”

“Guys?”

Chess interrupts us before Aubrey can grumble his answer. He’s holding up a handful of scrolls that look as old as the book my dragon is working on. “They feel like someone has misfiled them. And since this is all more recent stuff, I’d say they probably did it on purpose.”

“Wait. Do not unroll them,” Rennie says as he leaps off the tall shelf. He walks over casually, but I sense the tension in him. He takes the scrolls from Chess gingerly, placing them on the table and gesturing for Aubrey to come over. Once he gets the gloves and tweezers from him, the gargoyle unrolls the first leathery scroll slowly. “These are not to be trifled with, mes amis. I recognize the way they are crafted.”

Aubrey huffs a few smoke rings as they unfurl. “That’s the ancient shifter language. We used it before the Treaty. Afterward, the various groups reverted to their species’ language or that of the region they lived in. Schools stopped teaching the universal tongue, and it went the way of Sanskrit. But I do not know what the other markings are.”

“High Fae,” Rennie whispers softly. “The other writing is in High Fae.”

We all look at him, and he ducks his head in shame. My eyes cut to Aubrey, asking the question the rest of us are wondering. “Do you speak the old shifter language, Aubrey? Is it something the mythicals still know?”

His jaw grits, and he nods. “When I was young, it was still in use. I’m uncertain if the rare breeds still use it now, though.”

“They taught it in my childhood,” Rennie says with a sigh. “I suspect it still is. Remember, shifters like Aubrey and I are not usually found outside closed groups. The manticore you killed was also an exception.”

Fitz growls under his breath, stomping over to the gargoyle with an angry expression. “Do you speak High Fae, fucker? Because I’ve been really sensitive about your moping, but the longer you wait to tell us, the more danger Baby Girl is in. And I’m just about at the end of my rope with you pretending to be a giant chicken instead of a fucking gargoyle.”

“I do.”

The room fills with growls and snarls of fury, but I can’t let frustration break us apart or eclipse the actual problems we’re facing. As angry words are flying, I climb onto the chair, standing above them slightly before I put my fingers to my lips and let out a whistle that pierces my own ears. All five of my men stop where they are, their mouths hanging open as they look at me.

“Yes, he’s been holding back and yes, we could be further along. It doesn’t matter now because it’s done. We need to use Rennie to read every single thing we find with this writing, and maybe we’ll find clues. If the hoods planted old shit in one box, they probably did in others. We have a day and a half to go through what we have here and go back for more if we don’t get it all. After that, people will be back at the school and we’ll lose our chance. Spending this time fighting is dumb and it won’t solve shit, so put them away.”

They’re all silent for a moment before Felix starts a slow clap and within seconds, they all follow him. I give him a dirty look as I hop down, my face so red I feel like a damn tomato. How I became the grown up in a family full of men twice to a bazillion times my age, I don’t know. Huffing, I stomp over to my table and flop into my chair, not looking at any of them as they chuckle.

“Shut up,” I mutter as I pull on the gloves. “Someone had to tell you assholes to stop waving your dicks around or we’d get nothing done.”

“As opposed to when she wants us to wave our dicks around so she gets done,” Fitz amends with a lecherous grin. “And if we don’t get this shit done, none of us will get done, either.”

“Thin ice.” I point at him, trying to stay serious as he pulls his usual pervy jokes to make me crack a smile.

Chess comes over and bends down, brushing my hair out of my face. “How about I go get some snacks ready? Maybe we’re all a little hangry and it’ll help keep our minds on the task.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as I lean my forehead on his. “That sounds perfect.”

When he pulls away and heads for the door, Aubrey picks up another box, smacking it on an empty table. “Everyone, get to work. We’re on a tight timeline before the school re-opens and from what we’ve found so far, we’re being given bread crumbs to help us solve this mystery. If we sit around, we might miss the next set.”

What he didn’t say was: who knows what they’ll do if we don’t play their game the way they want us to?

Look At What You Made Me Do

Renard

The first day back from the break has been a grim one.

According to the email Henrietta sent to the staff, thirty-five more students failed to get to their homes or back to school so far. Included in that number are several high-profile kids like her dickless ex-boyfriend, Heather Charles, Jaiyana Faiz, and the O'Leary heir. The Council is up in arms as all their children were accompanied by what sounds like security battalions and they’ve disappeared as well.

It’s hard not to feel responsible—a guilt I share with ma petite. The email came in during breakfast and a bit of quick math told us the number of kidnapped students now tops a hundred. I watched her rub her battered arms as emotions warred on her beautiful face. And I knew. She’s blaming herself for being their prime target and feeling awful because she wished the Heathers and Todd would get what they deserved.

I didn’t tell her whatever the hoods are doing is likely more than anyone deserves; it would only make her feel worse.

“The things we translated yesterday show the birth rate for mythicals dipped after the Treaty. They weren’t rare before it, and that means magic had to contribute.” She looks at Aubrey and me, her eyes questioning. “And suddenly, we have the hoods and a public mythical fighting in underground rings despite death being on the table.”

“I haven’t seen a manticore in so long,” I reply as I think about it. “I don’t know if they’re usually that bulky or not. There used to be nests in Europe and South America.”

“Perhaps we should tell her what the most common mythicals were in our youth?” Aubrey sips his coffee, frowning at the table. “If births have secretly been on the rise because of a partnership with the magical folk, we could encounter far more than a single manticore in the coming months.”

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