Page 45 of Eat. Prey. Love. (Apex Academy Capers #5)

My leotard clings to me like a second skin, damp with the effort of today’s ballet class. The mirrored walls of the dance studio reflect a chorus of exhausted students, but I can’t help noticing my own outline, slightly more rigid than the rest, as if I’m still on high alert. It’s been a week since the museum heist—seven days of trying to blend back into the mundane rhythm of campus life.

But who could blame me for being tense? We stole shit from some unknown cult in a last minute raid.

“Come on, Dolly,” Cori coaxes, her voice upbeat as she tugs at my arm, pulling me toward the admin building. “You can’t avoid this place forever.”

I hesitate, memories of snarling dingoes and their cruel laughter at Apex biting at the edges of my mind. My stomach tightens, not from hunger, but from the thought of walking into another potential ambush. If the ladies in the clinic hadn’t helped me escape, I wouldn’t be here right now. It’s a sobering thought, despite the fact that I can defend myself now.

“It’ll be fine,” she insists, her eyes bright and reassuring. “Plus, Rufus needs to film some candid ‘student day’ stuff for his final project. He’ll pout if we don’t go.”

Rufus is fiddling with his camera, lens cap dangling from his fingers as he smirks at me. I sigh, the weight of loyalty nudging me forward. My friends have been on board with all my crazy shit from day one, no matter how dangerous it was. It would be shitty to let my stupid trauma from Apex keep me from helping Ru-Ru get his shots done.

“Okay,” I concede, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come along. It’s time I got past this anyway, right? Todd’s gone and none of his stupid dogs followed us here after Cappie. The cafeteria should be mostly mutt-free, unless that damn O’ Leary chick is there.”

A soft cough from my badger friend makes me turn and he shrugs. “There are other canines on campus, Dollypop. I want you to come so I can get you and Coco in my fabulous clips, but I’m not going to lie about what we might find there. It’s a dick move.”

Trust Rufus to be baldly honest with zero filter—it’s part of why I adore him

“Fine . It might not be flea-bitten mongrel-free. Got it,” I sigh as I grab my messenger bag. “At least I won’t run into the remaining Heathers. They keep to themselves if they’re not giving me shit in class. ”

“An important distinction,” Cori agrees. “Only your new bullies might be in the place you don’t want to go.”

Thanks, Cori. That’s super helpful.

Descending the stairway into the Alexandré building’s subterranean cafeteria, I can’t help but grumble. “Why do they always put these places underground? It’s like they’re trying to hide us away or something.”

“Probably because they don’t want anyone seeing preds scarfing down their lunch,” Cori quips with a smirk, her voice echoing slightly off the walls.

“Some of the prey work here, like Raina.” I give them both a nod as we finally approach the entrance.

We push through the wide double doors of l’Academie ’s cafeteria into a setting I’ve actively avoided since that first semester at Apex. I’m prepared for the scent of cooked vegetables and spices that doesn’t quite mask the underlying odor of cleaning fluid and deep-fried resignation. I hear the distant clatter of cutlery and the murmur of student chatter, but here, there’s an ornate host station blocking the entry to the dining area and the scent of roses.

What the hell is this?

“See? Not so bad,” Cori says, her hand still on my back, gently guiding me to the stand. Apparently, this isn’t a surprise to her, and I groan inwardly. If they’ve been here already, I look like the idiot who has no idea that she’s not going to find a normal college cafeteria that would trigger my fear.

“You could have mentioned that this place is different,” I reply calmly. My voice is steady, but my heart hasn’t gotten the memo. It thunders in my chest like a drum, resonating with every step. “It might have made this excursion a little easier, guys. ”

“Welcome to Le Jardin des Muses, ” the willowy swan shifter at the desk says. “Reservations are closed today, but you may find open seating in the back. Your server will bring menus and water once you are settled.”

Okay, this is insane. This place runs like a five-star restaurant!

The cavernous space is decked out like a museum rather than a place to eat. Murals loom large on the walls, depicting predators in various artistic poses, all gloss and glam. Gilded fixtures throw back the light in a show of unnecessary opulence.

“Are we sure this is a cafeteria?” I raise an eyebrow at Rufus and Cori as we weave our way between tables. “Looks more like they’re preparing us for a five-star dining experience.”

“We should find a spot away from prying eyes,” Rufus suggests, scanning the ornate dining room with a filmmaker’s eye. He’s looking for the perfect shot, and I’m just looking to get through a meal without bolting.

“Good idea,” I murmur, as I follow him to a spot in the back. My eyes skate around the room, taking in the sumptuous design, white napkins, and crystal barware. “This place is crazy. Who builds a cafeteria like this for college students?”

“Camille LaFragrasse,” Cori supplies with a mischievous grin. “You know, the famous chef? This is the only cafeteria in the world with two Michelin stars. It’s freaking amazing, which is why I wanted to bring you here. According to admissions staff, Camille herself stops in sometimes. She lives nearby.”

As I sit, I press my feet firmly against the tiled floor, grounding myself in the present, in the company of friends who have no idea how deeply the scars of past ridicule run. Luckily, the opulence of this damn room and the information Cori just dropped on me are very distracting. I turn to her with an arched brow, my expression wry. “You wanted me to come here because it’s swanky and nothing like Apex’s space, right? Fancied yourself an armchair shrink? ”

She flushes and shrugs. “Maybe. But I was right. You’re not losing your shit and every little piece of you that you wrest back from those assholes is something the new enemies can’t use against you, Dolly.”

Shit. She’s got me there.

Wrinkling my nose, I nod at her, letting her know I forgive the white lie. “Alright. Then let’s film his shit before the waiter gets here so we can just hang out. I don’t want to be doing taped stuff all throughout lunch. I like spending time with you guys.”

“Ready when you are, Dolly,” Rufus says, lifting his camera, a silent promise that he’ll make this as painless as possible.

Once Rufus gets what he needs for his ‘mock-u-mentary,’ our conversation inevitably steers towards more personal stuff—specifically, the triplets and Rufus. The details he crows about are risqué as hell, and I can’t help the laughter that bubbles up despite my earlier anxieties. The badger has truly found men who make him happy—in more ways than I needed to know—and it’s amazing to see him glow with that emotion.

However, our gossipy exchange is cut short when a capybara waiter approaches, menus in hand. His small stature is no match for his beaming smile as I greet him. “Hi, there. We’re friends of Raina, and we wanted to check out the food here.”

“Miss Dolly!” His excitement vibrates through the air. “Raina told us all about you. I’ll make sure you’re all taken care of; no need to even look at the menus.”

“Uh, wait a sec…” I squint at the nametag before I continue, “Floyd. We aren’t quite ready to order yet because we just got those…”

“Raina’s instructions were very clear about what to serve should you visit. Leave it to me, Miss Dolly.” With that, he scurries away, leaving us in a collective moment of bemusement.

“Great,” I sigh, a touch of sarcasm tinging the word. “I hate being famous.”

“Come on, it’s not so bad,” Rufus chuckles, clearly amused by the capybara’s earnestness.

Rolling my eyes, I nudge Cori, bringing the conversation back around to something other than my fame. “Your turn, girl. What about those new Pred Games uniforms? Tell me all about your big project.”

She hesitates, cheeks flushing with a secretive glow that speaks of more than just fabric and thread. Yet after a soft elbow jab, she relents, pulling out sketches from her bag. “Well, they’re not quite done, but it’s close.”

“Wow, Cori... these are...” Words fail me as my eyes trace the black and silver designs meant for the Pred Games. They’re sleek, intimidating, and positively dripping with style. “We’re going to outshine everyone on the field.”

“Exactly,” Cori grins, finally riding the wave of pride in her creations. “That’s the plan.”

Rufus leans back in his chair, eyeing the uniform sketches spread across our table. The silver threads on black fabric gleam even in the dim light of the underground cafeteria. “These look amazing, Coco. But how long until Dolly can actually wear one? The spring scrimmage is this weekend.”

The polar bear taps a pencil against her full lips, calculating. “I should have a prototype ready for Dolly to try since she's the captain. But we’ll need to see it in action during practice before we outfit the whole team.” Her eyes glitter with anticipation, clearly envisioning her designs in motion.

“Ugh, about that scrimmage...” I wrinkle my nose, folding my arms over my chest. “Facing off against the Cappie team won’t be a walk in the park. They’re still holding grudges from the fall. I know they’ll be gunning for me now that I’m not a team mate.”

“Plus,” Rufus says with an arched brow, “the campus will be swarming with their team and the rest of their staff by Friday. Cappie snots and their hangers-on, here for days is a torture I’m not looking forward to.”

Cori’s grin doesn’t fade. “All the more reason to stun them with your captain’s swagger, right? Show them what real Pred Games royalty looks like.”

“Royalty or not,” I mumble, half-dreading the influx of visitors, “it’s going to be a long weekend.”

My friend’s laughter bubbles up, light and infectious. “Hey, at least Rufus’ ‘supposed ‘documentary crew’ won’t have to sneak him off campus with phony excuses for their booty calls. The gates will be wide open for the public,” she says, nudging Rufus with her elbow.

“Yeah, it’ll be one big happy family reunion,” I say, sarcasm lacing my words. The sound of my forced laughter is hollow even to my own ears. My brain is picturing the throngs of visitors milling about as my ex-teammates make themselves at home on our new turf. My tail gives an involuntary twitch beneath the table, the escaping bunny betraying my annoyance.

Rufus raises his eyebrows, a smirk playing on his lips. “You love the spotlight when you’re in your element, Dollykins. Don’t pretend you’re not looking forward to showing off your vicious skills in front of a crowd.”

“Maybe,” I concede, “but there’s such a thing as too much company.” I gaze past them, lost for a moment in the thought of the impending chaos. It’s then that realization dawns, hitting me with the weight of a missed leap in ballet class.

“Guys,” I interject, leaning forward, “we’ve been so wrapped up in chasing clues for this mystery that we forgot about the open campus. It’s going to be a zoo out there.” My mind races, thinking of all the preparations we’d need to consider.

This school has far less security than Cappie, and it’s laid out with a million places to hide.

“We’ll need to inform my cousin and his couriers what’s coming their way,” Rufus adds, reaching for his camera. He’s always thinking a step ahead, ready to capture the next pivotal moment for his documentary. “He’ll want to make certain that your various unwanted stalkers aren’t hijacking your moment for their own gain.”

“Not to mention simple safety,” I say, tapping a finger on the table, feeling a sudden surge of anxiety. “We’ve got to plan for a fully open university. Security should be tight, but discreet. We can’t let anything—or anyone—slip through the cracks. This would be a great moment for another Fae attack or another mass kidnapping.”

My icy bear friend nods, her earlier mirth replaced by a look of determination. “Rufus can talk to Farley and I’ll take the Captain’s crew. You need to plan with your men, Dolly. They need to be on their toes with so many outsiders around.”

“Thanks, Coco,” I say, relieved to have her take the lead on this. I’m usually the leader, but with all the pressure of needing to call my mother and decode this shit from our heist, I’m swamped in extra work at the moment.

“All we can hope for is this scrimmage goes off without a lot of collateral damage,” I add, trying to push aside the unease. “We know it won’t be perfect, but if we can minimize the risk, that will have to be enough.”

At least, I hope it will be.