Page 113 of Her Rabid Beasts

Henry is excited to be out and about, and I give him his own bubble of invisibility so he can zip around corners and let me know if anyone’s approaching.

We make it into the elevator and, to my surprise, it lets us up without trouble. When the doors slide smoothly open on the third level, the floor is dark and Georgia’s desk is unoccupied. As soon as I step out of the lift, the lights blink on and I jump back, heart pounding.

But Henry does a lap of the space to show me no one is there. It’s just the automatic lights.

Blowing out my nerves in a huff, I hurry to Lyle’s office door and video call Minnie’s phone. At first, all I can see are Sabrina’s tits in her new push-up bra as I kneel before the door.

“Alright, I’m here,” I say, taking out her second set of lock picks from my bra.

“Okay, show me the goods,” she cackles, like this is great fun.

Sabrina and Minnie squabble in the background as Sabrina squints down at the phone. I show her the lock.

It’s as lovely as the rest of the finishings of the old dragon mansion. Heavy yellow gold, with the doorknob itself moulded into a dragon’s head. The attached lock is that same gold, but it has been modified into the modern style.

“Alright,” Sabrina purrs, “go in like I showed you. Real nice and slow.”

Stacey snorts behind her. “You forgot the lube Lia!”

“Dirty animas,” I mutter. Henry picks up one of my tools with his beak and offers it to me. I take it, blowing him a kiss because it’s the right one. I insert the first pick to hold back the lock’s tumblers and then grab the second one to make my manoeuvres.

Sabrina guides me through the process, just like we practised on her training locks. After five minutes of jiggling the pick around, nothing happens. “Shit, I think you’re gonna have to come here and do it for me,” I say. I have one eye on the elevator the whole time to make sure there’s no one on the way up. At least I’ll get a warning if the elevator pings downstairs.

Sabrina swears. “Ireallydon’t want anything else on my record.”

She’s right. Our leopard friend has a number of small felonies on her record for breaking and entering as well as theft. She called herself one of the best jewellery thieves in the state and only got caught because various boyfriends snitched on her.

“Open, you bastard!” I mutter, smacking the golden handle.

The lock clicks and the door swings wide open, revealing the dark, empty office inside.

“What happened?” Stacey shouts.

“Gotta go!” I end the call.

Grinning madly, Henry and I inspect the door. There’s no hiss of magic as we peer in through the doorway, because I sure learned my lesson that time I got caught in Xander’s trap. When I detect nothing, Henry and I bolt into the room.

This is like being in Lyle’s bedroom, only it feels more devious because I’m actually here doing something illegal. Adrenaline and excitement make me near-giddy as, for the first time ever, I freely cast my gaze around the space without the boss man to distract me.

Every time I’ve been to Lyle’s office, it’s been the same: super clean and organised, with not a paper or pen out of place. On the right and back sides are his set of wall-to-wall bookshelves, and snooping at the titles reveals they’re only academic texts and manuals for the school.

But the student files are what I’m after, specifically about the rabid students. He has to keep them around here where it’s easy for him to access. Eagerly, I plonk myself down in his chair and wiggle around, checking out the view from this angle before looking at the desktop. His computer monitor sits to the left side and I notice with chagrin that even his keyboard is squeaky clean. Honestly, it’s unnatural. Tapping one of the keys, the screen comes on to the login page. I have no chance of guessing the password, so I move on. There’s a pen cup with a couple of the fancy fountain pens he uses, and next to that is a carved piece of wood I recognise with a jolt.

The peeling blue paint has faded to a near-white, and it’s carved with clumsy hands into the shape of an angel. The wings are round and small. You can barely make out the female shape because it’s worn from over handling.

I hold it gently in both hands, cradling it like a baby. The backs of my eyes burn as I register an old memory that’s not mine.

Quickly, I put it back in its place.

“Focus, Aurelia,” I mutter.

Henry squeaks in agreement, tapping his beak on the set of drawers on the right of the desk. I try to yank it open, only to find it locked.

Henry and I get down on the floor, and this modern, silver lock I can actually crack. It comes open with a satisfying click and I congratulate myself on a job well done. There are student files in the drawer, arranged according to year level and then alphabetically. I run my finger down them, checking the names.But they’re arranged by surname. I pass my own file, and when I see Titus’ first name, I quickly pull it out.

It’s huge, with over a hundred pages of documents, all detailing his daily activities while he was in the rabid unit, presumably Lyle’s special cages underground. It’s detailed right down to every bowel movement.

My face flushes as a brief thought of Lyle monitoring my own bowel movements enters my mind. I shake the thought off and scan the rest of Titus’ details.

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