Page 22 of Let Us Prey

Being attached to Fitz will paint another target on Barbie’s back, and my cat doesn’t like that one bit.

At least I figured out that our grouchy bastards have finally encountered her in class and can weigh in on the topic. Aubreyspent a good deal of the night huffing smoke rings while he angrily read some ridiculous old book with gloves on, like a butler. All he would share is that they assigned her to be an aide in his library without his permission, but he’d decided she could stay to help with his special archives. That asshole won’t letanyonedown there, so we assume it’s where he truly sleeps. He won’t confirm it, but I’d bet a hundred bucks he curls up down there like a fucking weirdo, surrounded by old books as if it’s his golden horde.

As for Renard, he refused to discuss it at all beyond saying she has him for a class in the magical greenhouse. Fitz tried to pry more information out of him when he started brooding on the balcony earlier than normal that day, but he puffed up like a giant winged puffer fish and took off into the sky without a word. The lizard rolled his eyes and took off after him, leaving the rest of usnon-wingedpreds feeling like dicks as we waited for them to return from his tantrum.

Those two were lucky that we all have our flaws, and we were all raised to be part of entitled rich royal families. None of us handle shit as well as we should for our age and we make exceptions for stupid ass behavior like that. The two of them barely complained when I returned from the fighting ring night after night, drunk and bloody, for the first three years of our tenure here. They wouldn’t give me the same leniency for messinessnow, but until I got my shit under control, they gave me space to be a stupid ass motherfucker.

I appreciate that—we all do.

Leaning back in my chair, I stare at the ceiling. My friend group is experiencing growing pains because of her presence, but that’s nothing compared to the bullshit I have to endure while I’m trying to teach. My focus is shot to hell and back the second she walks in, especially once my animal senses her in the hallway. The nasty little shits who seem to know her snark, prod, and bait her at every turn, even when she’s being quiet as a mouse in the back row. I have to give menacing looks at the hyenas who sit with that packat least once a class for some filthy commentary about her bedroom skills or virtue—a feat which is difficult because my tiger wants to fuck them up something fierce.

But Delores simply sits in her seat in the back, her eyes observing the room for danger in between taking diligent notes. She doesn’t give them the time of day while she works; instead, she focuses on me with an intent I suppose is borne of my resemblance to my twin. It’s like she’s risen above the childish behavior of her peers and she will not respond unless she truly feels threatened. It’s an impressive display of control and exactly what I try to teach the new shifters regarding their animals in my class.

I wonder what happened to her to give her the ability to mask her emotions so well at such a young age.

Fitz might know. He seems to have the inside track to all things Delores Drew because he’s been stalking her, with permission, I might add, all summer long. He’s recounted every trial and triumph he saw while she navigated the changes in her life, so it’s not a stretch to assume she might confide in him about what’s going on behind closed doors at the Drew mansion. The rumors about her father aren’t great, but her mother is a whole other enchilada. I know for a fact she has dealings with my asshole patriarch and nothing about that is good. Delores grew up amongst vicious, greedy adults who likely fobbed her off on the staff more often than they paid attention to her. Yet she seems more grounded than I would have expected from that kind of upbringing, so her nanny must be a fucking miracle worker.

Why do I care so much about this? It’s ridiculous!

Frustrated beyond belief, I stand, walking over to the bar to pour myself another bourbon. I toss it back and pour another immediately, uncomfortable with the conflicting emotions warring in my mind. Our girl is in constant danger at Apex—in class, walking around, eating… everywhere is a potential death sentence. But she walks around with her head held high, ponytail bouncing as she moves from place to place confidently. It’s as ifshe’sthe biggest pred around, not the only prey animal not employed as maintenance staff. She does it without being escorted by Fitz everywhere, which he hates, and without asking the friends Chess says she has in the drama program, either. Delores Drew moves through her days like she doesn’t give one single fuck if people try to kill her, and that bothers the hell out of me.

And she’s not ‘our’ girl, I remind myself.

“... I wish I knew what her animal is, you know? I feel like I could protect her better if I at least knew if it was big or small, had hooves or horns, or even if she had any defense mechanisms. But it’s rude as fuck to ask and she hasn’t offered it up. Felix hasn’t forced them to shift yet, so I can’t even cheat…”

Aubrey lumbers up next to me, giving me a ‘help us’ look as he pours his scotch. I grin a little, shrugging at the large lizard man. I might be Fitz’s Raj, but I’ve never used that power over my twin unless he’s doing something that puts us all in danger. Flexing the ‘alpha’ influence over your siblings and friendsneverworks how you think it will and I watched my father turn his loyal soldiers and counselors into sniveling worms who lied and betrayed him constantly because he did that. I won’t do it to people I care about andespeciallynot to my brother.

Suddenly, an obnoxious sound rings out in the high-ceilinged living area, blastingShort Skirt/Long Jacketby Cake, and I arch a brow. It’s an odd choice for my brother—who prefers rap for its fast beats and lyrics that fit his ADHD like a glove—and it’s even more odd for him to have his ringer on.

I mean, I haven’t had mine on since the early 2000s, for fuck’s sake.

“Oh, hi, baby girl! I was just talking about you. No, nothing bad. Of course, I wasn’t making fun of you. I’m upstairs with the guys relaxing… Well, I can. Do you have that book still? I mean, I know you told me not to hack your Amazon account, but I had to so I could find what you needed replaced.Yes, I know it violatesprivacy, but I replaced all your dirty books, didn’t I? You have fresh spank bank mater—ow! Don’t yell!”

Every single head in the living room turns to watch him stalk away to take the rest of the call in the stairwell with wide eyes. Obviously, we’re glad it distracted his incessant prattle, but even Chess looks a little shocked at what we just overheard. Fitz Khan invading someone’s privacy is no surprise, butapologizingfor it is another thing entirely. And doing it simply to replace some creature comforts and maybe personal items to make her happy? He hasn’t even touched her yet! I say that with certainty because he wouldn’t be able to keep his fat mouth shut about it for sure; he can’t even shut up about what she eats for breakfast.

“So, did anyone else find that weird?” Chess says from where he’s curled up on the fat loveseat he and Fitz usually share.

Aubrey huffs and rolls his eyes. “Fitz is eternally baffling, Chess. I choose not to indulge his hyper-fixations because they often fade within a few weeks.”

I nod, agreeing with his premise on the surface. Delores Drew may not prove to work similarly—and I believe she won’t—but my twin gets obsessed with shit and drops it pretty often. “It’s strange, Chess, but we all know how Fitz is.”

“Instead, I’d like to point out that I’ve found something interesting in my research.” The dragon leans back in his chair, sipping his expensive single malt with relish. “They amended the current laws of the Khan ambush when your father was a child. Codicils about the role of the consort to the king were added, and it allowed for a vast overreach in the power of the current ruler regarding their heirs.”

My eyebrows shoot up and I lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees as my eyes flash golden. “Tell me more, Aubrey.”

“The change gave your father the power to demand you follow the wishes of your intended wife or be stripped of your status. I haven’t been able to figure outwhythis was added because,according to the history, that was never something your people gave a shit about. Males or females wanting to marry into the ambush’s royal line were made aware of existing relationships and had the choice to accept it or walk away.” His expression is puzzled and I know it must conflict with how dragons work, but Aubrey shares nothing with us he doesn’t want to.

I ponder that for a moment. A great deal about my father’s rise to power is under royal seal. He doesn’t discuss how the power switched from the Rajah, who was my great grandmother—who now lives in Thailand in some massive estate—to my grandfather and ultimately, my father. No one says a bad word about the old gal, but our history books and education gloss over the period as if it just magically took place in a single night with a ceremony handing over the crown. Never mind that in every other transfer of power, it occurred because they killed the former royal in battle or died of natural causes. No one seemed to question it, but it always bothered me to have a living relative on my mother’s side we couldn’t contact.

I just chalked it up to my father being a fucking sociopath and let it go.

“What my scaly friend is trying to convey is that something very sketchy went on during that time and someone is helping your father conceal it—even to the level of alteringverysecure archives at the main library in D.C. If we can find out what it is and why he’s hiding this information, you may challenge your exile,” Renard adds from where he’s perched on his throne.

I blink, looking at my friends in amazement. Fitz’s determination to find a loophole in the Khan law never seemed like it would pan out, so I didn’t take it seriously. But here we are, amidst two ancients who believe they might thwart my father’s will with a technicality. The only question is… do I even want that anymore? That’s not a sentiment I can share publicly right now, so I nod at them.

“That would work if I had a consort or a potential mate, but that ship sailed long ago.” Lifting my hand, I scrub it down my face asI sigh. “I’d rather stab myself in the gut than present Zhenga as the next queen, guys. She’s the only person I’ve been anywhere near in years and the only person with the balls to go on this kamikaze mission.”

“Unless…” Chess whispers softly.

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