Page 12 of Come Out & Prey

The dock has a small structure on it, and by the smell wafting along the breeze, I can only assume that it houses fish for the water shifters to eat. The sea lions are crowded around the edges of the dock, trying to wrangle food forcibly from the staff members that are distributing it. Unfortunately, they’re prey animals, and though they are larger than normal, they are struggling with the aggressive herd.

That’s not even the most amusing part.

The unlucky bastards are a band of fucking raccoons dressed as pirates. I’m not sure why in Hades they’re dressed as pirates unless it’s going along with the aquatic theme, but one of them is poking an angry bull with a sword to fend him off.

Who in the name of Poseidon thought letting prey animals feed preds was a good plan?

Before I can pull out my phone to call the main office for help, the sky goes dark as an enormous flying shifter literally blocks out the sun as it swoops down from above. I watch as the planks of the dock buckle with the weight of the winged warrior as he lands, his roar echoes off the hills, louder than any I’ve heard so far today. The herd of sea lions scatters so fast that you’d think the wrath of Zeus was about to rain down on them and perhaps it is.

I’ve never seen a pred that looks like this one. His skin is as dark as obsidian, and his eyes glow like the seas during a storm. His hair is flowing down his back, the raven tresses blowing in the breeze as it gusts over the water. He turns, his gaze sharp as he glares at the herd of sea lions cowering on the shore, and then his wings spread wide.

“What is thisnonsensedisturbing my peace in the Tower?” The beast roars again, revealing a mouth full of fangs as he looks around accusingly. “Whodaresto threaten the Captain’s crew? Have I not made itclearthat they are under myprotection?”

It’s like time stops as every water shifter freezes in place. From the shiver of great whites to the leaping orca pods to the sunbathing seals, no one moves an inch or utters a single word. There’s no place for me to hide, so I stand as motionless as possible, hoping that will keep his stormy eyes from landing on me. No one wants to incur the wrath of this monster.

“Renard, your most gracious gargoyle-ness, we are grateful for your protection,” the raccoon wearing the captain’s hat says as he salutes.

That’s how quiet the lake is now—I can hear a raccoon supplicating to a gargoyle from across the water. It’s more interesting than a pin dropping, that’s for sure.

Waving his hand at the Captain dismissively, the gargoyle—who knew they ever left their clan lands?—strides over to the end of the dock and snarls. “If I hear ofonestudent giving the crew trouble, I will ensure every predator involved will suffer so greatly they will wish I had simply drowned them. You have beenwarned.”

With that, the winged guardian pushes off the dock, taking flight with ease. His path curves towards the top of the tall clock tower, and I realize why the school placed one on the grounds. Gargoyles favor them, and some legends are apparently just as much fact as fiction.

I put my hand on my chest, feeling my heart beating rapidly again. For the fourth time today, I feel desire coursing throughmy veins like warm honey. I’ve got to get to the damned gym and find my friends. I adjust my sunglasses and start walking towards the Leonidas Gymnasium at a rapid clip.

Otherwise, I won’t be held accountable for my actions when the next toxic alpha asshole crosses my path.

Girlfriend

They proppedthe doors to the gym open, and I breeze through them, marveling at the size of the structure. Everyone knows Leonidas Pride controls every major sporting outlet, athletic wear company, and runs all the competitive sports leagues both nationally and internationally. Their reach is almost as big as my parents’, and definitely on par with the Ericksons and their tech.

It makes perfect sense that they’d build a professional grade tribute to themselves at the premier pred school in the country. From the mechanical bleachers to the shining basketball court in front of me to what smells like an Olympic sized pool hiding somewhere, this facility is beyond state-of-the art andfartoo nice for a school.

The boys are over at the back of the court getting chewed out by…

Oh, no—not again.

“Icannotcatch a break today!” I mutter to myself as I scurry over to the gaggle of giggling Heathers.

If I’m lucky—which I probably won’t be—I can hide behind my friends, so the buff guy I watched pound the adorably nerdy professor doesn’t see me. The encounter in the art studio clarified that the watching was a two-way street, and I am not equipped to go head to head with the other half of that duo.

What the hell is he doing here?!

“DD,wherehave youbeen?” Gold grouses. “Justlookat that spectacular specimen of man meat over there with the boys. He’s been yelling at them for five minutes, and it’s sohot.”

A flush creeps up my neck because I absolutely know how hot this specimen is, and I refuse to tell the Heathers about my flirtation with voyeurism. I know they’re my friends, but lately, they seem to shrug everything I tell them off like it’s no big deal. Something in the power dynamic has shifted, and I don’t know what it is.

I force a smile, knowing that Gold’s tapping foot means she’s getting impatient, waiting for my reply. “I went to tour the arts building while you guys came here. I got caught up talking with a professor.”

That much is true, and it should be bland enough to keep Gold from questioning any further.

“You were gone an awfully long time,” Purple remarks, her eyes narrowing as she studies me. “What could you possibly have talked about that would take that long?”

I’m fairly certain Purple can barely read, so it doesn’t surprise me she’s jumping to a conclusion with no facts. She’s the most sniveling of all the Heathers, and the one whose family has the smallest empire. The Honeywells built their fortune off of flashy temples and televangelism—if it’s religious and crooked, theirhands are in the pot. I could easily call her Heather Hypocrite instead, but I’m mostly trying to keep out of sight until the deliciously sweaty hottie lets the boys off the hook.

It figures—with a body like that, of course, he’d be in the fucking gym at three p.m.

“You’re turning red, DD,” Pink chimes in. “I think H. has found a hole in your story. What were youreallydoing? Were you trying to lure buff college preds withoutus?”

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