Page 54 of Eat. Prey. Love. (Apex Academy Capers #5)

I crouch low, my muscles coiling beneath my skin—every fiber alive with the thrill of the hunt. Today’s prey isn’t one that requires my tiger’s strength or ferocity; no, I’m hunting with a different set of claws. The click-clack of keys under my fingers is as satisfying as the crunch of bones, especially knowing the chaos it wreaks in the digital world.

I’m about to fuck up some dicklickers’ worlds and it’s almost as good as an orgasm or killing—almost.

“Got ‘em,” I mutter, the grin on my face feral as Renard watches over my shoulder. The satisfaction of deleting Asani, Midori, and Rockland’ s semester work from the system courses through me like adrenaline. No backups, no traces, just a void where all their efforts used to be. It’s a beautiful kind of destruction—silent but devastating.

“ Parfait ,” Renard murmurs, his own devious streak lighting up his eyes. “They’ll be redoing projects until next Christmas. This is a beautiful kind of chaos, my feline friend.”

“They’re about to have the fucking days they deserve,” I growl, the thought of them upsetting Dolly turning my blood hot with anger. No one, absolutely no one, gets away with harming our mate. If my twin wasn’t so level-headed, heads would roll—literally.

I’d love to display a mounted version of that dead body diner with her new rainbow rat’s nest above the fireplace in here; the very thought makes my tiger want to preen.

“What’s next on the agenda?” Renard asks, rubbing his hands together gleefully as we shift focus. “I am enjoying your spin on my usual mischief. I don’t get to have a partner when I make trouble most of the time.”

“Security profiles.” I chuckle darkly as I upload corrupted bio data, replacing the legitimate pictures and confirmation scans with fake info, then scrambling all of their access codes. “Imagine their fury when they’re locked out of everything from email to door locks. They’ll flip their lids when they can’t get back onto campus after leaving. It’s enough to force stupid moves and bad choices.”

“Technological poetry, Fitzgerald. I approve.”

I grin, winking at the gargoyle. “Now, we move to phase two of our plans. Are you ready for more physical-type shenanigans?”

He nods as I close my laptop and grab my phone. “ Absolument , mon ami . I am eager to get even with the people who made our mate feel so attacked and betrayed. ”

Together, we slip out the back door of the library, our steps silent as we head towards the tunnel leading to the staff dorms. No one is around, and when we come out, it’s a relief to see the area just as empty. At Cappie and Apex, we all paid a lot more attention to movements of the rest of the professors, but here we are treated with a distinct disdain that means we avoid interacting with most of them. Zhenga and the Captain’s crew are the only ones we actually speak with because we know we can trust them.

Here, too much is hidden under a veil of snobbery and French speaking fuckwits.

Renard glances around the village, frowning. “It’s weird they allowed us to come here and assigned so little student interaction, non ?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Not at all. Whether they allowed it because of our girl and the forces conspiring to use her or because of our names, it’s been obvious since we arrived that they think we’re all mouth-breathers, Ren. You’re French and they don’t even interact with you, man.”

He pauses to consider my words, then sigh. “ Oui . You nailed it perfectly, Fitzgerald. I have felt their smugness as well, but I thought it was because I have not been back to my homelands for a long time. I was wrong; they’re purposefully treating us like unwanted house guests.”

“Exactly. Now, are you ready for some real fun?” I ask, my voice low and dangerous. “Because I’m ready to fuck some shit up and ruin people’s lives.”

“I was born ready,” Renard responds, the excitement palpable in his voice. “Chaos is one of my favorite states. Where are Midori’s accommodations?”

Pointing down the lane, I grin as we head for the fanciest fucking place in the entire set-up. I can’t help but relish the thought of the pandemonium that will ensue once these assholes discover the mess we’re about to make. The pranks are juvenile, but effective .

It’s not about the acts themselves—it’s about sending a message about what we will tolerate and what is off-limits.

“Let’s make sure they never forget this lesson,” I say, determination lacing my words. Renard nods, his own resolve is as unwavering as mine.

“Nobody messes with our petite lapin .”

The scent of decadence hits me as we push open the door to the headmistress’s quarters. My eyes roam over the gilded edges of furniture, the silk drapery that pools on the floor like liquid gold. Renard whistles low under his breath, a sound that vibrates with both admiration and disgust.

“I wonder how many scholarships for less fortunate preds could be funded by just one of these vases?” he muses, his fingers hovering inches from a porcelain monstrosity.

“Too many,” I mutter, my claws itching to shred the opulence to tatters. But we aren’t here for destruction—not the physical kind at least. “Time to get to work.”

Renard grins, and it’s all teeth and no mercy. “After you, Fitz.”

I lead the way, slipping through her private sanctuary. Heading for the device I spy on the table, I grin.My fingers dance across her tablet, a few swipes and taps granting us full access to her digital life thanks to the back doors I installed earlier. It’ll take her weeks to untangle the web of destruction I’m weaving. Her inboxes will be full of spam and phishing and dating site requests that will make it impossible to do anything. Personal information will be leaked all over the dark web, allowing anyone who wants it to wreak havoc on her finances and image.

The thought is so delicious it makes my cock twitch.

“Remember, subtlety is key. We don’t want any of them to be able to point the finger at us or our girl,” I remind Renard. We’re both cut from similar cloth and vengeance is an art form to us. Mine is usually bloody, but having him along helps keep me focused on non-maiming methods of revenge.

“Of course,” he replies, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that says otherwise. We reset her alarm to blare at odd hours, invert the controls of her smart home system, and program her coffee maker to spew out only decaf. Even her entertainment systems get scrambled with incorrect playlists full of screaming garbage and porn—which may or may not upset her, but it sure makes me snicker.

Petty? Absolutely. Satisfying? Even more so.

“Done with the basics,” I say, a smirk curling my lips. “What else can we do?”

We slip through the corridors to her office. The room has a scholarly clutter to it, books piled high and papers strewn about. It feels fake, though, especially since we know she spends very little time on campus. This room is for show, but I bet we can still create damage from it.

“We make it look like a poltergeist hit her,” Renard suggests, already at work dislodging pages from their bindings. “Even if she doesn’t use this room, fixing it to look used will take time and effort.”

“An absolute nightmare of mess coming up,” I say, setting up a loop of error messages on her computer that will mock her relentlessly. I can almost hear her frustrated groans, the sweet music of retribution filling my ears. Any calls to tech support will go unanswered by me, and the other IT people she has working here won’t ever be able to undo my genius coding.

“Calendars are cleared, deadlines... adjusted,” Renard reports, a laugh hidden within the words as he works on the laptop on the other side of the desk.

How that woman is supposed to be working with none of her devices on her person is beyond me—but we know she’s not actually running anything in this damn place .

“Good.” I feel the thrill of the hunt, the predator within savoring the distress we sow.

“Time for Asani’s place,” Renard declares once we’ve finished, his silhouette a dark specter against the backdrop of Midori’s disrupted academia.

“My dear cousin won’t know what hit him.” I say as we leave the ostentatious dwelling.

Ren and I walk down the lane again, keeping our posture casual as we head for the building I know contains my trecherous relative’s bachleor pad. Felix and I have been there before, but this time, the intent is less about finding clues than fucking up his universe thoroughly enough to make him want to leave this place.

I don’t waste any time when we get to his door. The lock clicks quickly, a sound sweeter than a siren’s song. Asani’s door swings open, revealing the gross jungle swinger motif that makes me want to barf yet again. It’s a stark contrast to Midori’s over-the-top opulence, but Asani’s shit is easily as expensive, it’s just selected to look like a slimy 70s lair instead of a fancy hotel. Renard wrinkles his nose in disgust as we slip in, making me muffle a laugh.

“Computer systems first,” I mutter as we head inside. Once I find a laptop, I look for a place to sit that doesn’t make me worry about catching something. After I’m settled, my fingers dance across the keyboard with vicious intent. I implant a virus that will cascade through his files, corrupting data beyond recovery. His plans, his work, everything he has on here—it all evaporates into digital oblivion.

Fitz-1, Slimy Chucklefuck Cousin-0.

“Isn’t this a bit... excessive?” Renard hesitates, watching as the screen flickers erratically. “You seem to be doing more to his system than Midori’s, mon ami . I’m not certain, of course, because this is your area of expertise…”

“Excessive?” I scoff, my voice low and dangerous. “This is the tiger whose lies nearly buried Felix six feet under.” My twin spent half a decade alone, drowning in whiskey and guilt because of Asani’s deceit on Bloodstone. “He deserves worse—and he will get it eventually, but for now, this gives me the satisfaction of ruining every bit of his life that I can like he did my twin.”

Renard nods, the uncertainty wiped from his face by the reminder. “Good point. Ensure that he’s too entangled in his own mess to ever think of crossing us again, and get the revenge you crave, Fitzgerald. I understand completely.”

When I’m done with the laptop, I put it back and rub my hands together. “On to more trouble for the dickface.”

Together we lay traps both cunning and cruel—ink cartridges filled with permanent dye, shoes lined with substances that’ll make every step a sticky nightmare, food containers altered to allow them to go bad without being noticed. We sabotage every semblance of normalcy, ensuring his day-to-day becomes a labyrinth of frustration. Some of the tricks might be overkill and slightly dangerous, but I don’t give a hairy rat’s ass. If Asani gets sick or injured? More’s the better as payment for his sins.

It’s not enough, but it will do for now.

“Rockland’s next,” I say, a dark anticipation coiling within me.

We’ve saved the best—or rather, the worst—for last. After locking up Asani’s lair, we slip down the hallway and out of that building. I know where the nasty corpse sucking bitch’s place is as well, so the path we take is quick and efficient.

The air shifts as we approach her door, charged with the promise of retribution. Rockland, whose venom has seeped deep into Dolly’s psyche, needs a taste of her own medicine. I won’t be content with mere inconvenience; I crave to see her undone.

“Remember how she treats Chessie and how close she comes to breaking what’s ours. Every week, she tries to do what those bitches and her mother failed to do,” I remind Renard, my voice barely above a growl. We’re not just avenging Dolly now; we’re protecting the future prey from Rockland’s twisted games.

“We will wreck her world,” Renard agrees, fury mirrored in his eyes. “I do not want to see ma petite come back from another one of those sessions looking so angry and upset.”

We enter, and immediately set about turning her sanctuary into a trap-laden hell. I rig her personal devices to malfunction at critical moments, weave tripwires that blend seamlessly with her extravagant carpets, and tamper with her beauty products, mixing in compounds that will leave her skin itching for days. Ren works on spoiling food, staining things, and making sure her appliances are set to fail or break with use.

Like Asani, this isn’t enough for me, but it will sate my cat for a small time.

“She needs to feel a fraction of the pain she inflicted,” I whisper, satisfaction curling in my chest like a contented beast. I sit at her desk, hacking into her desktop computer with a dark grin. Sending as many of her files as I can to my own servers for examination, I chuckle, then get to work on finanaces, identity documents, and putting her life up for sale on the dark web. Once that’s done, I move to destroying any connections she might have by sending malicious malware to them from her.

“Done,” Renard says, a finality in his tone as he comes in from the other rooms..

I nod, taking a few more minutes to set Rockland up for as many horrible online experiences as I can before I push back from her equipment. “Okay.”

Stepping out into the daylight, I look around carefully. The chill in the air seems to dance mockingly on my skin, pairing with the satisfaction that twines through my veins after our little caper. We move with stealth as we retreat from Rockland’s quarters, a minefield of carefully orchestrated chaos left in our wake .

“Think she’ll ever suspect it was us?” Renard muses, his voice low and laced with mischief. His eyes are bright with the thrill of our covert operation. I doubt he’s going to get over doing this for quite a bit; in fact, he’ll probably want to get a hit of the excitement again later.

I can live with that.

Shaking my head, I smirk. “Not a chance. We were careful to be ghosts—unseen but felt.”

As we leave the tunnel, the main campus is quiet, a stark contrast to the tempest we’ve just unleashed behind closed doors. Our footsteps are muffled by the grass as we make our way back to the library. The air feels charged with the energy of our deeds, a silent acknowledgment of the balance we’ve tipped in Dolly’s favor.

“Today, we struck back and that feels good,” I state, my tone resolute. Renard nods, the grim satisfaction evident on his face.

“We did it without spilling a drop of blood,” he adds. “Which means we’ve followed Felix and Dolly’s requests not to make things worse before we know who is pulling all the strings. They wouldn’t have thought we’d get this creative, Fitzgerald, but we did it.”

“Desperation breeds innovation,” I reply, feeling the weight of our actions settle comfortably within me. “For Dolly, I happily rewrote my usual rules of engagement.”

Renard claps me on the shoulder, a silent signal of a job well done. “Me, too, mon ami . I feel a modicum less rage at her treatment now that we have served them some well earned punishment.”

Hopefully, it will hold our beasts in check until we can mete out the real justice in the future.