Page 87 of Let Us Prey

Interesting. Delores has grown a spine, has she?

I nod, pretending to look bored as I scan the room again. “That idiot Erickson should stick to his microchips, and his daughter deserves to be taken down a peg. Notice how he didn’t requestmyinput on the situation.”

“No, Madame. He was most insistent that Inotdisturb you with something so trivial. He said he would speak to Mr. Drew at the next Council meeting.”

Of course he did.

Bruno is so gullible that every male in that wretchedly ineffectual group thinks they can influencemeby starting with him. It’s laughable, if not deserving of a decisive slap during our next business negotiation. Perhaps I’ll require a hefty donation of Erickson tablets to the school as an apology.

Yes, I believe that will be a worthy tribute for his insolence and a beneficial tool to spy on my disappointing progeny.

“Henrietta, I want copies of every assignment my daughter turns in to her professors forwarded to my assistant. We must monitor our heirs to ensure they are representing their families appropriately.” She bobs her head and I turn to look at her. “I also want files on every student who attends classes with her, including their parents’ information from Admissions. I need to know exactly who my daughter is cavorting with at all times.”

As most of the students are not in the one percent of society, all I need to do is dangle the right carrots—either money or power. Eventually, my wayward rabbit will be the key to securing my spot at the top for good.

Carrot. Aren’t I clever?

Family

Chess

The amountof time we spend sitting in this living room discussing my angel is getting ridiculous. Like Fitz said last time, we really need to just invite her up here to join us. She’s smart and brave, so I don’t think a group of men trying to decide her fate without her will sit well.

It’s certainly not getting any of us closer to sampling what Fitz has.

His new feminist leanings make me chuckle; he’s never been a misogynist, per se, but he’s always been callous with his playboy attitude towards women. Delores Drew is subtly changing the bad boy of Bloodstone, and she doesn’t even realize how powerful that influence is.

Looking around at my makeshift ambush, I smile to myself. She’s having a similar effect on the others, too. Felix is more interested in the bigger picture at Apex than he ever has been—more like a true king. My book loving friend is still grumpy as fuck, but his smiles are more frequent and his humor less toothy. And the loner gargoyle joins us in the circle rather than grunt from his perch all the time.

My angel is turning us into a genuine family and it makes my heart squish because it’s what I’ve always wanted.

I don’t even mind that my cat is more demanding and present in my mind. His desire to protect her rides me constantly and though I’m the smallest pred in the room, I would charge a giant motherfucker like Gregor to save her, just as I would with Fitz and Felix. The cheetah looks at her differently than Fitz, but I think eventually they will be equal in importance.

If I can figure out how to approach her, that is.

“None of you were there, but I watched Lucille Rostoff Drew rip someone’s throat out in the middle of a meeting and no one did a damn thing. I can only imagine what she’s been doing to the lunchable most of her life.” Aubrey looks at each of us and though I know he’s not one to be dramatic about death, he’s trying to warn us of the danger my angel is in.

Renard snorts. “Don’t tell me it made your stomach turn, old friend. I know better.”

“Of course not. I’m not upset by the violence as much as her iron grip on everyone. You didn’t see how Delores behaved when her family was on campus afterward. The confidence she’s built up over the past few months dropped like a stone and she cowered like prey.”

“She is prey,” Felix reminds him. “But I understand your point. She may be capable of holding her own here against her old enemies and the students, but her parents are another level of fear she has yet to face. Their betrayal and decision to send her here to be killed must cut deeply, even for someone used to their abuse. I can relate to that.”

Wisdom like that from Felix is unusual since we left Bloodstone, and I tilt my head to watch his reaction. “It’s how you behave when your father or his minions reach out.”

Fitz glares at me, opening his mouth to defend his twin, but Felix gives me an impressed look. “Yes, Chess. That’s exactly what it’s like. Being victimized isn’t only for the weaker species; strong preds like me can have trauma that is triggered, too. My father definitely qualifies as one of those.”

Suddenly, my lover frowns and whips his head around to look at the dragon with narrowed eyes. “Wait a minute. Where the hell did you find my baby girl on Friday? I couldn’t find her anywhere and I even used the tracking shit I put on her phone. I checked with her nutty friends and even looked in on Three-Finger Todd to see if he needed a beating. But nada enchilada, man. The last location I saw on the network was your damn book dungeon, Lizard Lothario.”

That gets the attention of both me and my king; our eyes snap to Aubrey, who shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “When I ran into her, she was in a very precarious mental state, Fitz. I recommended she allow me to walk her to the townhouse or the Tower and turn her phone off. She needed rest and comfort.”

Renard snorts, shooting the dragon a knowing look, and I frown. He’s usually quite eager to poke at things, but this topic has him tight-lipped. Felix arches a brow, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees as he watches the two of them.

“Ooh, tell me more, Hot Lips. Did your special brand of comfort include a paper cut inducing roll in the pages of dusty old books where she worshiped at the altar of your teeny dragon weenie?”

Fucking hell, Fitz. Get us all roasted like pigs on a spit, why don’t you?

The dragon pops out of his chair, his wings spreading as he shifts while walking towards my big mouthed lover. Smoke billows from his nose as he glares fiery rings of promised pain at him and growls, “Fitzgerald Ulysses Castor Khan! That is none of your fucking business.”

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