Page 12

Renard

Shuffling the papers on my desk, I look around the classroom I had constructed when I first arrived at Apex. I am the only professor who has an outdoor classroom for non-physical subjects, but the administration was so excited to have one of the few gargoyles living outside of our clutch on staff that they caved to my demands with little resistance. Thus, my literature classroom is in a garden extending from the recessed wall at the back of my Tower. Our view is of the lake so I can monitor my prey friends lest rowdy students give them trouble.

Over the years, I’ve made additions to my private oasis, including a wood-burning stove, hand carved chairs, lounges with pillows filled with ultra-plush goose down from a flock that migrates past the school, and a throne befitting a king that will support my weight whether I’m humanoid or fully shifted. Two years ago, I turned the foliage on top of the canopy into a self-sustaining biome, and the hanging vines and flowers allow students to enter, but also protect us from elements while inside.

This garden is one of my greatest joys, and if mouthy heirs mess with it, I simply shift and dump their asses in the middle of the lake. No one misbehaves in my classes—my wrath is not a well-kept secret. I wouldn’t have to worry about it being incurred if Henrietta would allow me to have first refusal for students signing up for my first and second-year classes, but since they are open to all, I haven’t won that battle. Yet. I hand-select the students who can attend the advanced portions and the two electives I teach for nocturnal and winged shifters.

Being the rarest shifter at Apex has its perks, and I am not above exerting my dominion to get my way. No other secondary academy in the world—not the Capital Prep, Académie des crocs et des griffes ? 1 , Zhuǎnxíng U it’s undignified.

“Hello? Is this… uh, Gothic Literature? I’m early, but I didn’t know there was a classroom here… oooh!”

My wings pop free and before I can stop it, I half-shift at the intrusion. Frustration hums through my veins as I gape at the beautiful girl rushing through the vines to look out over the lake full of exercising aquatic shifters. I am not normally so on edge, and half-shifting like a teenage boy popping a boner isn’t my style.

However, the external threats we are currently assessing at this school have me on a razor’s edge. Before I came to Apex, I was hunted, both for my rarity and by those who still sought revenge for my poor decision making in the past. I have not seen a poacher or a huntsman in many, many years, but poison is a favored method of their kind—so the events of the prom were triggering. I am not as convinced as my scaly companion that the situation at the dance was an attempt on Council heirs alone.

“Oh, my! This view is beautiful! And the flowers and the scent… I’ve never seen such a lovely space to learn in.” The girl turns towards me and the faint scent of honeysuckle finally catches my nostrils. “I’m Delores Drew, by the way.”

Aine, give me strength.

This is the girl Fitz has been droning on about all summer, and now I see the reason he’s been like a tiger cub with the zoomies for the past few days.

Delores Drew is as stunning as he and Aubrey have described.

She has a classical beauty that normally wouldn’t lend itself to the rebellious body modifications she’s sporting. However, the tiny sparkles of diamonds and flower-shaped jewels only add to the picturesque roundness of her face and blonde waves that spill over her shoulders. I was loath to believe them when they both insisted that, unlike almost every single female pred stepping through the gates of this school, she’s not enhanced, but they are certainly correct.

Something about her is stirring urges I haven’t felt in a very long time.

The irritatingly sexualized uniform doesn’t hang on a malnourished frame, but drapes over supple hips and thighs. She’s tied her blouse at her waist—a uniform violation I’ll bet not one male professor has bothered to correct—and her slightly rounded belly is decorated with… oh, no wonder Fitz loves this girl so much. Her damn belly ring is a diamond Playboy Bunny symbol. Delores has the required kitten heels on, but she’s swapped the knee-highs for white fishnet stockings and her plaid skirt is rolled just enough that I can see bows at the tops of her garters.

Where in the courts of night and spring did this temptation come from?

I’ve been here since this school opened, and not once have I ever encountered a student who floated across the grass as ethereally as her. Of course, I’ve never had a student who is obviously prey with no business attending this school enter my classroom before, either.

“Professor? Did you hear me?”

I blink, shaking my head and flexing my wings in both embarrassment and irritation. I can’t decide if I’m angry at being interrupted, or embarrassed that I must have been staring at her like a full grown bat with a head injury. “Monsieur Renard, if you please. I’ve heard much about you, Delores Drew.”

Her brow furrows and she stomps her foot, her entire body transforming with rage. “Why does everyone keep saying that? Is there some sort of nasty flier up somewhere? I swear, I’ll put my fist through someone’s teeth if I have to! I barely made it out of that stupid cafeteria alive, and if it wasn’t for the ladies in the infirmary, some asshole dingo would have eaten me!”

That fire is intoxicating! Aubrey is going to love her smart mouth.

I wonder if I can lure him into a bet…

She keeps looking at me and I wait, unsure of what I should say. That would have been unfortunate and quite humiliating, even if she didn’t survive her first week, but some don’t in a place like this.

“Can you imagine? A Drew eaten by a measly dingo . Lucille would have a vodka-soaked aneurysm. Bruno would probably let Bruiser eat my corpse so the family shame wouldn’t get publicized. Then they’d all win, because even though I have no control over how the hell I was born a goddamn bunny rabbit when my parents are a crocodile and a leopard, somehow they blame it all on me!”

I don’t think this rant is going to end soon, and since it’s amusing me, I drop into my throne and sit with my chin in my hand, settling in for the show. This girl reminds me of someone, and the memory is creating a warmth in my gut. The talisman at my neck pulses briefly, and I roll my eyes. I have plenty of time before nightfall to fully shift, but the damned thing likes to send me little reminders throughout the day.

“You know what sucks the most? Everyone abandoned me after I emerged. Not one of my so-called friends or family has tried to help me learn to stay alive. They want me dead. The only people who have tried to help me are prey animals—both here and in the fashion community this summer. Even though I’m prey, I don’t belong with them and we all know it, but at least they tried. Luc also tried. And Fitz.”

Leaning forward, I eagerly await more information about that budding relationship. Fitzgerald isn’t known for doing much to be helpful beyond getting someone off, and while he’d surely offer those services here, I feel that’s not all he’s doing with this girl. I’m curious to find out why her name seems to come up every time he invades my tower, so getting the tea from the other side is tantalizing.

“Fitz is the only one who’s made me feel safe. And I don’t understand why because I mean, clearly he’s a player and I’m just a silly rabbit with a small-dicked hyena for an ex and a bunch of bitchy dogs chasing me. What exactly could I offer him, or an artist, or even a grumpy… Oh, frosty goat balls, why am I saying this to a professor I just met?” she gasps, her eyes finally meeting mine from across the room.

Chuckling, I shrug. “My kind are excellent listeners, Miss Drew. We’re accustomed to perching while people make long dramatic speeches. Most of the time, you wouldn’t even know we’re there.” I wink, enjoying the squirming she’s doing as she approaches. “It’s the whole statuary thing.”

Her eyes widen before she squints at me as if trying to figure something out. “Rock? So it’s true? Like head to toe? I mean, I’ve never met a gargoyle before.”

That’s a question she’s probably not ready for me to answer truthfully.

I roll to my feet, stretching my wings out as I approach her. “Well, yes. Obsidian is my form, and others vary, but you’re not likely to see another soon. Gargoyles keep to themselves for a multitude of reasons, Delores.”

“It’s Dolly,” she replies distractedly, as her eyes rake over my bare chest. “How come you’re not like the dragon or the wolves or lions or whatever? They all have to strip or risk tearing their clothes. It looked like yours just... shooooooop!” Her hands make a vague gesture as the sound effect echoes off the stones.

“That, my dear, is not a secret I am comfortable sharing with someone I just met, even if she spilled half of her diary in one continuous monologue,” I reply, giving her a gentle smile.

Her face reddens, and she ducks her head. “I’m sorry about that. I’m trying not to let what happened get to me, but it’s been a very difficult couple of months and I have no one to talk to. All I’ve learned is you can’t trust anyone, even if you’re in love with them, you know?”

Ouch.

I absolutely know about the dangers of trusting those who don’t deserve it, and she hit me right in the Achilles’ heel with that sentence. “Yes, I do,” I sigh, turning away from her for a moment. “I understand being betrayed by those you love very well.”

“But being betrayed by a stupid, idiotic boyfriend who made a stupid video when he was the one who—just trust me, it’s so much worse,” she mutters, kicking a rock before she plops down on a lounge as if I made it for her.

Arching a brow, I don’t correct her na?ve assumption that an embarrassing video is the worst thing that could happen to her. After all, she’s young, and has much to learn about love and loss. Instead, I murmur one of my favorite poems softly. “ She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro' the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side ? — ”

Delores rolls her eyes as if I’ve given her advice from a teen magazine, holding up her hand as she finishes my verse, “ The curse is come upon me! Yes, yes, any lit student or teenage Goth knows the Lady of Shallot , Renard. Sheesh. Next, you’ll try to comfort me with The Raven or something.” Her head tilts, and a smile creeps over her lips. “Though if you don’t shift back, I suppose the black wings would be fitting.”

My mouth drops open, both at her familiar use of dropping the Professor title from my name and her intelligence. I didn’t expect this side of the girl in front of me at all. She’s beautiful, and that’s all Fitz needs. Aubrey said she was sassy and liked books, so that explains why he’s been grumpy. Chester has been awkwardly quiet on the subject, which I don’t get because it sounds like she also has an affinity for the arts and poetry.

I’m uncertain what the standoffish tiger Raj thinks, but if I believed a girl on this planet existed that could capture the attention of all the outcasts in our little family, here she is. As I watch her swing her legs over my handmade chairs like she belongs here, I doubt I have any hope of resisting her pull, either.

I am incredibly, unequivocally fucked.