Page 54 of In Prey We Trust

“Despite Heather’s inability to do basic math, I was not nor will I ever be, sleeping with half the staff of Apex. My fluffle consists of five men who are my fated mates, so sorry if you were hoping to fill out an application, Prof; I’m full up and you wouldn’t make the cut.”

His eyes widen and he starts to stomp over to my desk, but I hold up my hand with a crazy smile straight out of Fitz’s playbook. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. The last Shifter History professor who crossed me hasn’t been heard from in a while.”

“I knew it,” Gold growls under her breath. “Daddy couldn’t find him anywhere when we moved to Cappie.”

Turning my distinctly unhinged look on her, I just stare until she looks away. “Make no mistake: I am not the Delores Drew these girls knew in high school and I’m not the one who started Apex with no one by my side. If you’re coming for me, I suggest you attend the first Pred Games match Saturday night and see who I am now. That’s your one chance to make a better choice.”

I watch all the phones lower, making sure I don’t back down an inch as I gather my things. Flipping my hair in a Heather-esque move, I stalk over to the door, turning to blow the room a kiss and flip them off before I slam out the door.

Motherfucker that felt good.

The elevator is too slow as I ride down and a small shred of regret creeps in. The guys are going to kill me for mentioning Abel, especially after we worked so hard to cover up his death with the explosion. My outburst is one of the things César was working on with me—taming my bunny’s fury—and I’m going to get a lecture from him, too. It might have felt great to fuck up all those people, but I’m definitely going to pay on so many levels. I might even—

The phone in my pocket buzzes and I’m so distracted, I pull it out without checking the Caller I.D. before I answer. “Go for Dolly.”

“Delores Diamond Drew, that is not how you answer the phone!”

My eyes widen and I almost drop it when I hear her voice. Lucille has been noticeably absent since the guys finagled my early trip here and I was almost convinced she stepped on the wrong toes and someone killed her. Or was that hoped? Fuck if I know. I take a deep breath, ratcheting back the temper that I allowed out for my classroom outburst. That won’t work with Lucille and I’m not in the mood to add Bruiser to board today.

“Lucille,” I purr. “Please accept my apologies for the rudeness. Today has been a stressful day and I answered without checking to see who was calling. It won’t happen again.”

The venom in her voice is palpable. “It had better not because I’ve seen your little performance today at that low-rent academy.”

Holy shit does she have a fucking ‘Delores’ alert on the Preynet or something? I bet she does.

“Lucille, I—” Before I can respond, she growls into the phone and I fall silent.

“Delores, I never thought I’d be in a position to say these words and I’m furious to lose a perfectly good yacht over it. However… today you were the perfect image of what a Rostoff should be.” She sighs heavily and I hear her sipping a drink, so that must have physically pained her to say. “Your grandfather texted me to pass on his approval. You’ll find a large bonus in your account from the family coffers.”

I blink, unsure what the hell I’m going to say. Dmitri’s dirty money is not something I want and I sure as hell don’t need his approval. I don’t even want Lucille’s fucking praise and I’ve figured out just how much I like that shit lately. Her words just make my skin crawl and I shiver as I stare at the phone.

“Delores, are you there? You’d better not have hung up on me, you little—”

“No, Lucille. I’m sorry. I lost service in the elevator for a moment,” I lie smoothly. “But I appreciate your call. I hadn’t heard from you in so long I was concerned. I almost checked in with Mattie to confirm your safety.”

Her scoff is incredulous. “Never be worried about me, my chunky lagomorph. Lucille Rostoff Drew is a force to be reckoned with, not a tragic headline. I had Council business to attend to and the renovation of Apex is more complicated than we assumed. Those things are far more important than verifying my disappointing progeny is alive.”

And there’s the real Lucille.

“I understand. In the future, I’ll remember that.” I look around, hoping to see my next escort here early, but there’s no one here. I don’t want to stand around until the stupid appointment with Coach Cuntface, so I’m going to head over to the Admin building alone. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Lucille?”

This time, her voice carries a threat and its unmistakable. “You chose to enter the Games with our name, Delores. Your father, grandfather, and I will not tolerate a loser wearing our name in public. Whatever it takes, you will win that match or they won’t know where you went afterward. Do you understand?”

I swallow hard, biting my lip until it bleeds. Coach Z has been working with me and I’m doing well, but I don’t know shit about my opponents. The rosters for each team aren’t released until after the first match of the season to prevent ‘unsportsmanlike conduct’ in the pre-season. It’s code for murder and maiming, but no one seems to bat a lash. However, my mother just made it very clear that if I don’t win, she’ll have me dispensed with.

“Yes, Lucille,” I murmur, working hard to keep the wobble out of my voice. “I understand.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing your victory.”

She hangs up abruptly and I dig my shades out of my purse so no one can see the uncertainty in my eyes as I walk across the green to the offices. If her goal was to throw me off my game, she’s succeeded for now. The great manipulator knows exactly how to push my buttons so I lose my confidence and my strength.

That’s because I wasn’t lying to Rockland last time we spoke: Lucille does not make idle threats.

Firework

Delores

After my first ‘appointment’ with the damn nosy coach, I know for certain we have to put a stop to her shit. She started out fairly normal, asking questions about my childhood and my parents. Despite wanting to out Lucille and Bruno, I kept my answer vague so she couldn’t play back any hidden recordings to use for notes. I’m already dancing on a wire with my mother, especially considering my pimp grandfather has taken notice of me. Rockland is stupid enough to give hints about her work in progress to press or online sycophants—any of which could find their way back to my sociopathic family.

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