Page 9 of Come Out & Prey

“Uhhhh…” She dips her head and looks sad as she mumbles something under her breath.

The animal inside of me strains at the look on her face, and I swallow hard.Shit.I definitely can’t handle this if my cat is furious with me for making her look upset. I look at the students on the stage for help, but both of my stars just give me innocent looks. Before she takes off running, I blurt out, “If you’re with the Secondary tour, I think they’re at the gym going over the physical education electives for the fall with Professor Khan.”

“Yeah.” Her face reddens again, and she’s quick to add, “I mean, I know, but I really wanted to check out some arts programs, so I came to the theater, and it was open…”

I’m saved by the tattooed gangster that comprises exactly half of my serious theater students. We have a top-notch facility at Apex and a few extremely talented exiles who are professors, but the arts aren’t a favored major of the rich preds who attend this school. That’s how I ended up being made head of the TheaterDepartment despite my decidedlackof credentials to back that title up.

Luckily for me, the dance and singing programs have specific professors, so I only have to manage the technical aspects of performances. I’m a fair hand at scripts and text, but I depend on Rufus and his best friend, Cori, to do the lion’s share of the production work. I would have been much more suited to the English department, but those positions won’t open until one of the old crones or our ancient friend, Renard, kicks the bucket.

People don’t get exiled to Apex for a brief spell; once you’re here, it’s for life.

“Stay put, sweet cheeks!” The honey badger yells from his spot near the piano.

I watch as the adorable girl gapes at his rough exterior as he strides to the proscenium. It’s hard to blame her—Rufus is one of those shifters who looks exactly like you’d expect them to once you realize what business their family is in. Though he's not actively part of the Pred-stasy empire now, Rufus, the gritty looking punk rocker who adores musical theater, was raised there. She wouldn't be allowed to hang out with him at home, but that might change if she comes here.

Even I have trouble saying no to Rufus.

“Walk towards us,” the badger says, jerking his head at his friend. “I want to see something.”

My cat wants me to interject, but I know Rufus isn’t ogling her. He’s definitely not being a creeper; Rufus has a much celebrated reputation for dating every guy on campus who will let him. The angel looks unsure for a moment, but steps into the aisle and does a quick catwalk back and forth for him. I see the wheelsturning in his head as he watches her glide over the carpet and when Cori nods, he grins toothily.

“You’re a dancer. I can tell by how you move. So if you want to skip out on the testosterone fueled circle jerk at the gym, you’re welcome here. We have drama and dick, but we could sure as fuck use a choreographer.”

Cori rolls her eyes at the overly gruff badger. “You’re so full of shit, Ru-Ru. If you thought there were jocks jerkinganythingat the gym, we’d be looking at a trail of smoke as you took off.”

That makes me smirk a little because the polar bear is right. She shakes her purple hair—this month’s color—and sighs as if she should get a medal for putting up with all of us. “I, of course, have no such interest in man meat. But I’m down with you staying to watch or ask questions.”

Talk about a proud teacher moment.

“Yes, Coco prefers the tah-co. Thank you, dear.” Rufus runs his hand through his black and neon green hair as he chews on his lip ring and studies Delores again. “I think you should join us and see what fun the small but mighty theater department is at Apex.”

That seems to shock her, but her apprehension turns to a shy smile as she walks to the stairs on the side of the stage to do as he suggested. I can’t help but grin when she walks across the boards with more confidence now that my motley students have invited her, and I almost put my hand to my heart in an emotional, albeit dramatic, gesture. Her eyes flick to me and when she sees my encouraging expression, her face lights up like the sun is shining on her.

Do not start spouting poetry, Chess. You’ll freak her out.

But her hair is like spun gold…

When I finally check back into reality, Rufus is talking animatedly, his hands waving as he points to different parts of the theater and I have to wonder how long I’ve been composing couplets in my mind. I catch him eyeing me as she responds to his questions and I wince—he can probably smell the arousal coming off me like a dead fish in the middle of the room. He grins wickedly, winking before he taps a finger against his lips. “DD, I think you should take a tour of theentirearts building while you’re here. Fine Arts isn’t a popular major because most of the snooty snoots won’t let their kids do anything but prepare to marry rich or run their empires, but the Shirdals spared no expense when they paid for these facilities. I’ll bet our favorite professor here would justloveto show you all the nooks and crannies in this place. He’s such a supportive faculty advisor; Iknowhe’ll make time for you.”

I might not be the biggest pred, but I grew up on Bloodstone, so I know when someone is baiting me.

Clearing my throat, I give him a stern look. I ignore his and Cori’s consistent dress code violations and let them operate with very little oversight, andthisis how he repays me? That little shit is going to pay for this once I think of an appropriate punishment. Of course, he won’t care—Rufus loves to stir the pot, and he enjoys watching people squirm even more. When I turn back to Delores—excuse me, DD—she’s looking at me with wide, expectant eyes. Between inhaling her scent unconsciously, like a fucking creeper, and plotting my revenge on my meddling diva, I haven’t responded.

“Yes. I could… definitely do that,” I say lamely, avoiding glancing at the two would-be matchmakers, who are no doubt grinning like fools. “Follow me.”

The angel dips her head, nodding at me as she walks behind me quietly. The silence is oppressive as we walk through the wings and down the hallway that runs alongside the orchestra level. When we reach the double doors to exit into the main hallway, I look over at her curiously. “DD, huh?”

Merciful Apollo, I’m never this awkward. I’m the nice one, for fuck’s sake.

Her eyes crinkle at the corners, and she gives me that shy look again. “That’s what my friends call me. My real name is Delores Drew, so…”

Drew? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“I go by Chess, but it’s not my real name, either,” I reply as we head up the curving staircase to the second floor. “Don’t ask me to tell you what my full name is—I’m convinced my mother was high.”

That makes her grin, and she makes a motion like she’s zipping her lips. The twinkle in her eyes is absolutely adorable and I feel my cock stir again despite how thoroughly Fitz worked me over earlier. I have to look away before I say something stupid, like how her eyes are like tide pools in the Caribbean. I still can’t believe that the one female I’ve taken an interest in since puberty found her way to my rehearsal after she watched my consort jack me off like a beast. It’s like the Fates are conspiring against me.

Before I can make a monumental error in judgment, I realize we’ve reached my personal studio. She tilts her head, looking at me curiously, and I open the door for her. “This is where people can find me when I’m not teaching or in rehearsal. I dabble in a lot of hobbies, so when the former visual arts teacher passed, they let me settle in here. Unfortunately, I’m hopelesswith drawing, but I enjoy pretending I can paint or throw pots. Working with my hands gives me time to write, too.”

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