Page 1 of Let Us Prey

Bad Reputation

Delores

I crankthe music up to max volume as I speed down the highway. My hands drum on the steering wheel of my vintage Mustang as I dance along, hair whipping in the breeze as the convertible takes the curves far better than a car of this age should. It’s my first day at Apex Academy, and I need every ounce of encouragement I can get.

This is the place I’m supposed to die.

After the events at prom in the spring, when I emerged as a bunny instead of a predator, I was a pariah at Shifter Secondary. My former besties and ex-boyfriend filled my days with cruel pranks, dangerous threats, and promises that, once I got to Apex, the ban on killing underclassmen would lift.

You’d think that would have me running as far away from Apex Academy as my thumpers could carry me. Unfortunately, given the Council’s decree that I attend Apex rather than get killed for emerging as prey, I don’t have a choice in the matter, and my classmates know it. I deleted every speck of social media to keep the maniacal look in their eyes out of my head when I didn’t haveto be at school, and the absolute rage that lack of contact unleashed in the Heathers was terrifying.

Regardless, I kept my head down and endured the trauma of my last month of school by counting the hours to summer. My home life was even worse, however. If my mother wasn’t calling me into her drawing room so she could spend half the evening drinking and berating me, my father was licking his chops as if he’d prefer to eat me and get it over with. The Council decreed I could fight for my life at the Academy. That didn’t keep Bruno from eying me like a ribeye every single time he had to tolerate my presence.

I suppose it didn’t help that I spent the entire summer defying every single edict they’ve handed down my entire life.

My text to Monsieur Growlvinchy secured a job at his fashion house for the duration of the break, and Lucille couldn’t do a damned thing to stop me. Politics in the fashion world are as treacherous as they are in the Capital, and he assured Lucille that if she denied him the first apprentice he’d chosen in decades, he’d make certain she was at the bottom of every Fall Line preview list. She backed off immediately and allowed me to accept the position, which was the only thing that kept me sane.

Working got me out of the house for long stretches, gave me real money of my own rather than scraps of change, and allowed me to hide from my bullies. They would never take a job—even an internship as prestigious as this—so I could avoid contact with the people I wanted to see the least.

I had one small run-in with douchebag Todd, but luckily, it was outside of the underground goth club I was hanging out at. He threatened me and I wanted to break out the mace my summer friends had me buy, but a gorgeous feral tiger leaped out of the darkness to save me. I thought I recognized the look in its eye when I petted its head, but the fingers that appeared on my windowsill later confirmed it.

My flirty professor friend from Apex was watching me and he continued to leave presents and notes so I’d feel safe. I’d never had that before and it melted my frozen heart a little.

Wrinkling my nose, I sigh as the track changes on my playlist. That night at the club underlined a few things I’d been wrestling with for months. While it would be easier to associate with prey animals as much as possible because that’s what I am, it won’t work. I came back from the incident outside to find friends cowering along the back wall as the preds circled the dance floor looking for weak ones to cull.

I could never do that. Besides the danger of provoking more vengeful preds by simply socializing with them, Bruno and Lucille brought me up to act like a pred. I couldn’t stomach hiding along the wall for the rest of my life; it’s not in me, especially after I spent the entire break reclaiming my agency.

Okay, that’s a super fancy way of saying ‘finding myself’, but I read a lot of psych and self-help books at night.

I had countless hours to fill once I came home from my job, since I had few people to talk to. I texted with my work friends, but since I had to escape from social media to keep my inboxes from filling with death threats, they excluded me from group chats. I wrote songs, but a girl can only write so many sappy betrayal songs or hate filled anthems before it gets depressing. So I buried my nose in books of all kinds to keep busy. I tried to keep my reading preferences a secret from Lucille, so I bought e-books instead of going anywhere with Bruiser to buy them.

After devouring everything I could on how to ‘reignite my fire’ and why I should just ‘wash my fur’, I finally realized that the key to surviving this year at Apex was to grab my future by the balls and squeeze.

That led to a flood of fantasies about hot professors featuring library stacks, gym mats, and art tables. That led to buying another boatload of books with the professor/students trope. Ieven found some books where the guyssharedthe girl—man, did that do it for me. Todd was a dud, and I didn’t have the slightest interest in dating anyone my age, so more Amazon orders were necessary for fueling my book boyfriend fantasies. I hope that will hold me over until I get out of this hellhole Academy, and after that, I’ll have to re-assess.

I mean, no way I could date a prey animal—not after being immersed in the world I lived in for eighteen years. But how could I ever trust some salivating pred dickhead not to chow down on me like I was the goddamn Cadbury Bunny?

Ugh.

Like I said, I’ve accepted that dating is off the menu. That’s why I have a box full of distractions to hide under my bed in my dorm. We’re lucky enough to have singles at Apex because the alumni are so wealthy. Given that so many mated pairs meet at Apex and form alliances, you’d hardly know single people exist by the time graduation rolls around.

At least, that’s what my Google searches revealed.

Hundreds of message boards have sections dedicated to preds finding their mates between the different secondary academies via video chat and messaging apps. I carefully avoided using anything that could be traced back to me, but I had to know what I was walking into. My skunk friend, Clotilda, worked in a cafe nearby and she made sure we cleaned my phone of tracking and spyware. Unsurprisingly, it had malware on it from both my parents and my bitchy ex-friends.

Trust Gold—of the tech-giant Erickson family—to know absolutely everything about everyone so she can spread her venom. The girl has no life outside of maliciously bullying others or trying desperately to get validation through her circle of dimwits. I still can’t believe I put up with those nasty girls for as long as I did. I’m still a salty Sally about my exes—friends and otherwise—and the way everyone cast me aside. I don’t want to be in their circle again, butI want them to pay for treating me like a used Kleenex.

My rage at a lifetime of betrayal fueled me in a way nothing ever has before. I worked long hours for the first month, earning enough to buy myself a car so that I didn’t have Bruiser lurking about like a shark in blood-filled waters. Lucille was furious, but Luc walked me through the paperwork. I’m eighteen, so there was nothing she could do to stop me—especially since I didn’t keep it parked at the house. I paid for it in bruises and blood, and it was my first taste of freedom.

Since that day, I’ve physically transformed myself into the person I’ve always wanted to be.

I’m still blonde—because it’s natural—but as soon as I had enough money, I started altering my body and style in ways that felt more genuine than Botox and French tips. My friends at the boutique used remnants to make me an entirely new wardrobe—a sort of goth/punk mash-up that makes me feel rebellious and hot. I snuck out late one night with my Flamingoth friends to get a tattoo—one I’ll probably show no one because of its location. It reminds me of who I want to be and I love it. I traded my kitten heels for knee-high combat boots, and my dusting of neutral makeup for black liner and smoky eyes.

Yeah, I know. It’s pretty basic to go from good girl to bad bunny, but I spent far too long being squeezed into a box I didn’t want to be in. It’s only fair that I get to rebel now that I’m free.

Frowning, I think about the prey friends I’m leaving behind. At Apex, I won’t have any support nearby—even Luc will be an hour away. Preds’ll surround me, and I’m fairly certain the Heathers—like their parents before them—will take over the social hierarchy of Apex Academy as quickly as possible. That means the likelihood of me making any actual friends or allies is nil.

As the music changes, I roll my head on my shoulders to get the tension out of my neck and think about the surprise ‘gift’ someoneleft on my doorstep last night. Todd’s fingers showed up on my window about two a.m., and while I’m concerned about retaliation, I suspect the responsible party will help me. The necklace I lost on prom night appeared not long after, along with various other ‘presents’.

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