Page 13

Aubrey

The library doors swing open at precisely three p.m. and I watch as the infamous Delores Drew sashays into my lair once again. The flurry of gossip surrounding this girl in the minuscule time she’s been on campus is both annoying and intriguing, but I so rarely engage in such trivial matters. The only matter I’m giving my attention to is that she’s infuriated, inflamed, and piqued the curiosity of my entire social circle with her behavior, both in class and out.

I, however, am not as sentimental or horny as the others, so I refuse to allow myself to get caught in her youthful drama. She’s not the first shifter with a tragic backstory to grace our halls and she won’t be the last. If they assigned her to assist me in the library, I will train her to the best of my abilities and see her to the door when her time is up—nothing more, nothing less.

I’ll be damned if I let Rennie win yet another bet. His smugness is already out of control.

Her bag drops on the table with a resounding thud as she looks around, no doubt checking for hidden dangers. As the only prey animal to attend Apex as a student, she must be on high alert. She’d be a fool not to be, and she doesn’t strike me as stupid, although perhaps a little na?ve. I don’t even have to shift to scent the fear and doubt emanating from her as she walks towards me full of faux confidence.

It’s almost like she’s wearing a mask.

“My friends say you’re ancient. Is that true?” she asks, blowing a bubble and popping it with a smirk.

I snort, seeing everything I need to know about her mental state from the way she’s presenting herself compared to her last visit. This is a girl desperately trying to make people believe she has everything under control, and she’s using that bravado to counter the prey instincts of an animal she doesn’t yet understand. “I am the eldest shifter on campus, yes. That is why I do not suffer fools or games, Miss Drew. There is no need to pretend within these walls.”

Her brow furrows, and she studies me for a moment before defiance flares in her gaze. “Who says I’m playing games? I’m here for my work study, Professor Draconis.”

Renard was right—she’s got a temper—and despite her occasional bouts of insecurity, there’s strength in her.

She’s definitely bright, although judging by the quality of company she kept at prom, she’s spent a lot of time hiding her true self to keep from threatening the insecurities of those around her. The idiot who dragged her away during the vomit incident didn’t look as though he could play Memory with a two card deck, so it’s doubtful she’s accustomed to someone treating her as if she has value besides being arm candy.

That will change during our time together.

“Indeed. While you are a guest in my library, you will drop the act and behave like a student that scored just shy of perfect on her ACTs.” Her jaw drops and I smirk at her in satisfaction. “You are not the only one who can research their coworker, Miss Drew. I could not in good conscience allow an imbecile to assist me with the most valuable artifacts in our possession, if you were not up to the task.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, raising her chin as she glares at me. When I don’t respond to her bratty posture, she rolls her eyes and sighs as if I’m the most tiresome shifter she’s ever encountered. “Look, Professor, I have my reasons for being the way I am and I’m not about to explain myself to you. I don’t owe you my story.”

An actual smile ghosts over my lips at her keen observation. I spent many exhausting centuries draining my resources to help people understand my past, and it never led to the enlightenment I’d hoped for. Giving curious bystanders weapons to use against you will never make the shame or helplessness fade—it’s a subject my old companion Renard and I have discussed at length over the years.

If she’s going to survive the gauntlet that is Apex Academy, Delores needs to stop basing her worth on the opinions of shifters unworthy of such a boon. Acceptance of her true self—fluffy cottontail and all—is the only way she’ll be strong enough to rise above the inconsequential judgements of her peers.

“That is true, and I applaud you for saying so,” I reply. “Differing from everyone else is both a blessing and curse, but only you get to decide which one to give weight to. Now, if you’re ready to drop the mask enough to learn something new, we can begin.”

A flash of fear vibrates from her, but she forces her shoulders to relax as she walks over to my table with a guarded expression. “What will I be learning today?”

The myriad of scents clinging to her slam into me, and I have to pause as my delicate olfactory nerves identify them. There’s a hint of oleander, magnolia, and gardenia that tells me she’s been in Renard’s oasis. Earthy tiger scents mixed with expensive cologne mark her as part of both twins’ days today. I don’t smell the cheetah, but I can catch hints of her friends, the badger and the polar bear.

Prey… she doesn’t smell solely of her own species, but of several. She’s been in the dining hall and the infirmary. Has someone already tried to harm her? It’s only her third day on campus!

I’ll kill them all…

A low growl rumbles out of my chest, and she gasps, backing away quickly with downcast eyes. Her hands clasp together, wringing, as she cowers against a table. “I’m sorry! Did I do something wrong?”

Fuck. My dragon’s response triggered her goddamn PTSD.

“No, no,” I explain, making certain to keep my voice level and my hand gestures small. “I haven’t eaten in a few hours, but not to worry… bunnies aren’t on my menu.”

Her lips quirk for a second, and she tilts her head. “Really? I mean, I never thought about it but, what do dragons eat? Meat, I’d guess, and maybe… coal? No one ever talks about your people, even in school.”

I arch a brow. “You haven’t earned my story, either, Miss Drew. I am uninterested in a rabbit sampler platter.”

At least, not for sustenance…

That thought surprises the hell out of me, and I scramble to school my expression so she doesn’t see.

A laugh bubbles out of her before she can stop it, and she covers her mouth. The sound is admittedly delightful, and I reach into my pocket to squeeze the shiny dragon mochi to stave off my typical reaction to something so cute. Delores doesn’t need me to coddle her as others might, nor allow her to wear the false face of confidence she doesn’t feel. Outside of teaching her a fraction of my vast knowledge this semester, I get the sense she needs someone to allow her to simply exist and become comfortable in her own skin.

“They didn’t say you were funny. I mean, they didn’t say you were not funny, but humor wasn’t something I expected. The other night you were different...”

I shrug. “Very few people at Apex know me as more than the grumpy librarian, who won’t allow them to destroy texts or violate my realm with their childish chatter. You won’t find many who can give you the information you’re looking for on my kind—you’ll have to earn it.”

She narrows her gaze, giving me a suspicious look. “Earn it?”

“Be on time, be yourself, and be eager to learn. That is all I ask.” I stand, towering over her as I raise a brow. “Is that fair?”

She nods, chewing her lip as she considers my words. “I think so. What are we going to do first?”

This time, I do smile. “We’re going to the archives, little one. Keep your hands and arms inside the ride at all times.”

When the ancient lift system to the archives reaches the lowest level, she turns to look at me with wide eyes. “You neglected to mention the ‘ride’ was a dragon sized boulder with no railings that shoots through a dark cave at warp speed!”

“Did I? Careless of me. I did caution you to keep to the middle.”

I seem to enjoy riling her up. Perhaps this is what my gargoyle friend means when he says he enjoys creating chaos.

Her glare is full of vengeance, and because I think she means it, I let her have her moment before I walk to the edge and leap to the west platform. She stays rooted to the spot, looking at the gap warily. I wait, pulling my DiePhone out of my pocket to check my email as she hems and haws over what is an exceedingly easy jump. After a few moments in silence, she walks over, peering at the darkness below.

“How am I supposed to follow you?” she shouts, putting her hands on her hips in indignation.

“Don’t be a simpleton. Jump,” I answer as I go back to checking my email. “You are a rabbit, are you not?”

“I… I... well, yes!”

Shrugging at her sputtering, I toss a few emails from Fitz in the trash. He’s still demanding answers for loopholes in the Khan decree, but it’s simply not high on my list of priorities. “Rabbits can jump. Get over here so we can get to work.”

A frustrated screech echoes through the cavern, and I chuckle as I walk away, leaving her to ponder her predicament. The security installed in the outer lobby of my archives is infinitely more advanced than the elevator, but I have to protect the documents and books down here from thieves and grubby hands alike. I lean in, using the Erickson-branded biometrics to gain access, and step back as the airlock whooshes open.

She’s going to be shit out of luck once I’m inside, although I will probably need to add her face to the approved visitors list, which currently only includes me and Renard. I stop to listen for a moment and when I don’t hear the click of school issued heels, I sigh. Well, at least she’ll learn something this evening, even if it’s how to confront her own fear. I step into the small lobby and gather the gloves, tweezers, and various implements I’ll need to handle the texts I’m examining tonight.

The family from Europe submitted five books for admission to the collection this month and claimed them to be written around the time Apex and Bloodstone were founded. I don’t know yet if they’re originals or excellent forgeries, so I’ll have to read through them carefully in order to catch physical or lexical tells that would give away provenance.

I could explain this to a certain student aide if she’d pull up her big bunny panties and get over here.

Cursing under my breath, I try to avoid thinking about panties and focus on the first book. It’s a history of the Council, and the texture of the pages gives away the discrepancy with the copyright date. I set it aside, marking it as a forgery on my forms. The next book has severe water damage, and it cannot be in contact with the other collection items. Another mark on the sheet, and I pick up the third book. Maybe it’s better the scaredy rabbit isn’t here because this batch may be a total dud.

A History of the Honorable Academy of Apex Predators has the feel of a centuries old book, so I place it on the table carefully. The spine is fragile and the pages are faded in a manner consistent with the purported age. I’m about to start the first chapter when a loud crash against the outer doors startles me and I drop the tweezers.

“What in the name of Anubis are you doing?” I roar.

A snort follows another bang. “We have already established that your dragon bellow doesn’t scare me! If I’m supposed to learn something before the time is up, let me the hell in, you jerk!”

Well, I’ll be damned.

I stand, walking over to the internal keypad and punching in the code to get the doors to slide open. “I suppose you’ve earned entry… it took you a while.”

Delores stomps in, her uniform slightly askew from her efforts. “You were testing me on purpose; don’t even try to deny it. But don’t worry—I made the leap without a scratch and snooped around your stupid cave before coming here.”

“Miss Drew, your curiosity will get you in trouble if you are not cautious. Dragons do not take kindly to uninvited guests in their lair.”

Her lips curve. “That would apply only if that sad little bedroom that smells like detergent was actually your lair.”

I blink. No one has ever caught on before that I have a false lair set up like a red herring. How does this fucking girl get into the heads of shifters far older and wiser than her so easily? “I thought you knew little about dragons.”

“I don’t. I just guessed. It’s super obvious you spend like zero time there, big guy. Few dudes have rooms that smell that clean.” She bats her lashes, giving me a smirk. “So unless you want to reveal where you actually sleep, let’s talk about dusty old books.”

The fire in my belly sparks for a moment and I close my eyes, counting backwards from a hundred in Greek until I have it under control. “Fine. But stay away from my room—any room—and stop poking around, bite size. Deal?” I hold my breath, wondering if this is the moment of truth or truce.

“Deal.”