Page 13 of Let Us Prey

Fitz grins as he holds his arm out for me. Sometimes his goofy shit kills me, so I take it. “Well, Chessie, that’s my long-term plan, but I’m going to need some help to convince the two winged weenies. Do you think you might help?”

“Maybe Felix can talk to them. He’s as much a king as they are and though ambushes work differently than clashes or clutches, they respect that he told your father to get fucked over Minerva. Not that either of them would eversaythat because they keep more secrets than a spy agency, but I can tell by the way they listen to him.”

“Mmmmm.”

That’s the noise he makes when he’s thinking, so I follow him out the door and towards the staircase. Both of our attentions are captured when the sound of giggles and laughter echoes off the marble of the atrium. Fitz perks up and I can tell he’s going to leap the rail to go after the object of our affection.

“Don’t.” He looks at me curiously and I shrug. “She needs friends who aren’t trying to fuck her.”

My lover blinks, then beams as he claps me on the back. “Excellent point, Chessie. We don’t want to lock her away in that Tower because she isn’t allowed to see anyone but us. We just want her to be safe. If I come on too strong, she’ll feel cornered like a little birdie.”

Blinking, I nod slowly. “Exactly. Let her hang out with Rufus and Cori. We’ll find her later, maybe.”

Who am I kidding? He’ll definitely be creeping into the Tower to watch her sleep and no one will stop him.

It’s Strange

Aubrey

Music streamsfrom my DiePhone as I relax on my throne—one of the few things I like about the cursed device.

This is one of my least favorite times of year, and I need the calming influence of EDM to keep from losing my shit as my Smackbook dings with a regularity that defies logic. Giving my newest mochi a squeeze, I inhale deeply, counting to ten slowly. My new stress ball is courtesy of Fitz, as are the new breathing techniques. He’s been strangely helpful in sharing stress relief techniques lately—something I would have never predicted nor believed if you’d told me it would happen.

Of course, until a few years ago, I would have called you stupid if you said I’d be friends with a tiger ambush, much less those from the Khan clan. That family is full of crooked, bloodthirsty criminals, and the entire shifter world knows it. Running Bloodstone for the Council is merely a side hustle that gives them unwilling victims to play with whenever they choose. No pred in their right mind goes anywhere near that wasp’s nest if they can avoid it.

When the three of them first came crashing into Apex, full of resentment and righteous anger, they differed from who they arenow. Felix is almost tolerable—when he’s not trying to boss around two royals older than his family line—and Chess has come out of his shell nicely. Fitz is still Fitz, but he’s a lot less overtly psychotic than he was when they first arrived.

Lately, though, he’s been almost… tame.

The start of the school year is a chaotic nightmare for most of us, but he usually spends the first month screwing his way through the first-years like he’s trying to win a contest. Renard actually makes us play ‘Fist, Fang, Claw, Bite’ to decide who has to applaud his conquests, but not this year. It’s very odd, especially paired with his happy-go-lucky helpfulness over the break. Every time we needed anything, Fitz volunteered to run errands or grab supplies in town, jumping on his bike so fast you’d think they were giving away pred-stasy samples.

If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t ponder their motives, but Fitz…

The near silent creak of the main doors rouses me from my musings, and I leap to my feet. Betsy, my ostrich assistant, is working in Admissions this week, helping with passwords and other shit I’d never touch, so the intruder can’t be her. No one should be in my haven right now but me. I’m long past thinking my clan would send someone after me—my detractors have gotten what they wanted over the centuries, be it land, power, or wealth.

However, Apex is still a dangerous place on any day, and after the poisoning of students at the Shifter Secondary prom, I refuse to be surprised.

I know they cloaked the upper level in shadows, so I fold my wings in and quietly creep towards the balcony. Much like my gargoyle companion, I prefer the dark, and my night vision is superb. Whoever is invading my library won’t be able to see me until I?—

“Um, hello? Is anyone here? I’m supposed to be anaide? Hello?”

Who in the hell signed up to be a library aide and why in Anubis’ name wasn’t I consulted?

Rage bubbles up in my gut as I stalk to the railing, forgetting my half-shifted form as I jump over it and crash to the oak floor far below. Shaking my foot out of the hole I created for what might be the hundredth time, I let out a roar of frustration. I hate being unprepared as much as I hate having these idiotic rich prats in my beautiful sanctuary of knowledge.

“I did not consent to having some vapid twit lounging around my?—”

The insult catches in my throat as my gaze lands on the girl standing in front of the main doors. It’s the Botticelli-esque cherub from the prom, clad in the ridiculously sexy school uniforms they insist on putting the girls in. I didn’t get to speak with her that night because some slavering hyena was dragging her around like an accessory, but I’ve thought about her all summer long.Purely intellectually, of course, because she was one of the few students who didn’t barf all over the ballroom like they were trying to recreate the Nile.I’ve been working with the nursing staff and the scientists at the DHHS to identify the toxin and what specific properties of the laced punch counteracted it, so her input would be valuable to our studies.

I’m interested in her for research purposes, that’s all.

Fitz talked Renard and me into letting her reside in one of the lowest floors of the Tower because of an ‘emergency’, but surprisingly, she hasn’t broken our boundaries. Her respectful behavior means this is the first time I’ve spoken to her directly since she got here and I don’t know why that makes me so angry. It’s not like she’s looking up Felix or my gargoyle friend, either.

“Um… are you the librarian?”

Her question startles me out of yet another twisted train of thought that hasn't fully formed, and I rumble in frustration. It would be much easier to find answers if there weren’t so many blastedpeople trying to speak to me all the time. “I am the caretaker of the Draconis Memorial Library, yes. Who are you?”

A slight furrowing of her brow and a pout forming around her cupid’s bow mouth tells me she’s getting upset. “I’m Delores Drew, sir. When I visited last spring on my tour, they signed me up to be a library aide three days a week, in the evening. That’s why I’m here.” Her blue eyes widen as she looks up at me. “Didn’t anyone… tell you?”

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