Page 43

Felix

I’m still mad at Chess for allowing that little smart ass bunny to pick the costumes for this ridiculous event. Apex always has a big Halloween bash, but it’s never been mandatory for staff or students to attend. That’s suspicious, much like the dance last spring, and Aubrey has been going bonkers meeting with the prey working the event to ensure we don’t have a repeat of students projectile vomiting like out-of-control fire hoses. Renard provided the nursing staff with a variety of herbs to brew up antidotes to common poisons and anti-venom, but since we haven’t figured out what the hell they used last time, it’s like shooting in the dark.

The whole thing makes my fangs twitch and stinks of Council intervention.

Those fuckers won’t be in attendance, but Bast knows they orchestrated the affair. Henrietta is far too eager to please them and too chicken shit to say ‘no’, even when it’s not safe for the kids she’s supposed to be caring for. I almost sent a missive to some of the few allies I have left within Bloodstone and their satellite locations to see if they’ve heard anything, but I’d rather save that for a genuine emergency.

Favors are never free in the Khan ambush and I don’t want to spend capital that I don’t need to.

My current frustration is fueled by that impotence, but it’s also tinged with fear. Since my exile, I don’t allow anyone to have power over me. Chess giving Barbie free rein to outfit us for this event took away some of my tightly held control and if I didn’t love him like a brother, I’d find a suitable punishment for his little gambit. Nothing violent or harmful, but he wouldn’t be comfortable in public for a short time.

I don’t hurt the ones I care about if I can avoid it, but I also have to maintain order in our ambush.

Looking at the bored expression on the face of the raccoons delivering our boxes, I sigh internally. The damn things require a signature and I can’t fathom why in the fuck that would be. As if anyone would dare touch something addressed to Khans without permission—the idea is outrageous. Even the staff know better than to cross the shifters living in this townhouse, so making me stand here and put my name on this cutesy paper is a flex our little bunny is probably giddy with glee over.

That girl needs a spanking something fierce.

I haul the pile of boxes inside, dumping them in the middle of our living room with a growl of irritation. I don’t know why I let this girl get under my skin so badly, but she’s a genius at riling my tiger up like no one I’ve ever known except my twin. The outside of the damn things are full of drawings and designs and sparkles that make the contents feel even more suspect.

“Hell yeah, baby! Our shit is here,” Fitz says, as he leaps over the couch in a graceful arc. He’s been buzzing with anticipation all day and luckily for me, Chess kept him busy. “I can’t wait to see what my baby girl made for me.”

“Made?” I ask as I look to Chess for confirmation.

He nods, a small smile flitting across his lips. “Yes. Delores and her friends used my measurements to make our costumes—including Aubrey and Renard—as their mid-term projects. I wasn’t allowed to watch them create, so I’ll have to grade them mentally as they are revealed.”

Pfft. He’s going to give them perfect scores no matter what, but I hope to hell they actually had enough skill to create costumes that don’t look like kids at a craft fair.

“Great,” I reply, rolling my eyes at both of them. “This is going to be a nightmare; I know it.”

Fitz grabs a paper taped to the top of his box and laughs. “She created an adorable little manifest for the box.”

Our girl is nothing if not thorough.

Not your girl, Felix , I remind myself as I flick out a claw and slice the tape on the top of my package. It’s bigger than Chess and Fitz’s boxes and that makes me worried, too. What if she put me in some weird inflatable dinosaur monstrosity? I didn’t buy anything and I’ll be forced to admit to Henrietta that I don’t have a costume.

If I end up monitoring detention for a month because of her, I’m tanning that girl’s hide even if she isn’t mine.

My phone buzzes, startling me as I pull out a mass of tulle and sequins that have my eyes almost bugging out of my head. I drop the bundle back in the box, sucking in a calming breath when I realize what she dressed me as. The screen shows a message in the group chat and I roll my eyes to the ceiling for patience when I see it.

BabyGirl: You got the boxes!

TigerKing: We did.

I groan when I remember fucking Fitz picked out the names for this damn thing. As if the costumes weren’t humiliating enough.

BabyGirl: Tell me, tell me! We worked really hard on them and I can barely contain my excitement. I’m bouncing off the walls like Fitz when he has too much caffeine. My friends and I spent a lot of time picking out the different themes and our grade is kind of riding on this so…

Her need for reassurance makes my dick twitch in my sweats. I can tell by the way she looks at me in class and the tone in her voice now that she’ll respond so well to praise. Letting her show me what a good girl she can be when she’s not being a petulant brat would set both of us on fire; I know it. But that’s not my place and it can’t be. I can’t allow her to charm me with her cotton candy hair and big blue eyes like she has Chess and Fitz.

I have to be strong.

But it couldn’t hurt to give just a little so she doesn’t get hurt, right? The way she talks about her home life with the others doesn’t sound like she’. given much encouragement. Her parents’ dismissal of her performing talent particularly irritated Chess, and he’s usually very easygoing.

Praising her for working hard wouldn’t be out of line, right?

I look over at Fitz as he holds up the sexy nurse outfit that glitters with sparkling accents and appears to be cut perfectly for his body. He’s waving it at Chess, not perturbed by the matching fishnets, cap, and heels in the slightest. My twin is adaptable as fuck, and I think he’d wear a banana hammock and flip-flops if Delores sent it for him. When he offers to take Chess’ temperature with his meat thermometer, I shake my head and go back to my package.

Lifting the enormous pile of gossamer and sparkling fabric, I chuckle to myself. I suppose I deserve to wear a Rainbow Magic fairy dress after giving her hell about her hair in class. I’m sure she thinks I’ll balk at the yards of material, crown, wings, and matching shoes, but I could give a fuck. So far, her choices seem to coincide with things she associates with each of us: Fitz making her feel better and my pushing her boundaries.

It makes me super curious to see what she’s picked for everyone else.

“Fitz, stop trying to play with his ass and let Chess show us what she picked for him,” I growl in annoyance.

Chess gives me a red-faced, apologetic look, but I wink at him. He and my brother are good for one another; I give Fitz hell because he’s my brother, not because I actually give a shit they’re fucking. “Give me a second to unwrap it, Felix.”

My twin is on it before his consort can finish the sentence, ripping into the tape and paper like a toddler stealing someone else’s Christmas present. He yanks the garment out of the box, his eyes full of delight. “Chessie! You’re a can-can dancer!”

The dress looks like something out of that French musical thing Renard made us watch one night and I scratch my head, wondering what that’s supposed to mean. “He’ll look pretty, but I’m not sure I get it.”

“I told her she could follow her dreams, and dance is part of that,” Chess says with a soft smile. “I think it’s a pun.”

Chuckling as the realization hits, I shake my head and pick my phone up to text the smart assed little cottontail. She texted again while I was inspecting the goods and I turn away from the other two as they playfully snark.

BabyGirl: Did I do a good job, Sir?

Son of a bitch, she’s going to fucking kill me.

TigerKing: You did well, princess.

The little dots appear, and I watch as she types, erases, and types again. I don’t have the patience for this shit usually, but I’m interested to see how she reacts.

BabyGirl: Thank you. *heart emojis*

My eyes widen and I click the screen off, stalking over to my mini-ambush. I clear my throat and they stop wrestling with one another, looking at me expectantly. “What the hell do you think she sent the winged assholes?”

Fitz gives me a broad, wicked grin. “I don’t know, but I’m dying to see what sexy fuckery she sent Old Pepper Pecker. He’ll lose his mind no matter what because he was pissed as hell that we had to go and more so about the costumes.”

I grin to myself. Maybe a trip to the Tower is in order.

“Knock, knock, stone cock!” Fitz calls as we trudge up the backstairs to the top floor.

He’s so hyper, even Chess is having trouble dealing with him. The poor cheetah is trudging up behind my twin as he bounces like a sugared up human toddler. I don’t know how we’re going to keep him in check until this damn party tonight. I may have to fucking slip him some of that catnip pred-stasy shit, so he chills the fuck out.

Aubrey ambles into the main living area with a book in his hand. The look he gives me is accusatory, and I shrug sheepishly.

I’m aware bringing cracked out Fitz here is a dick move.

“We received a special delivery this morning and even though it wasn’t the package I prefer in the morning, it was divine!”

“Zeus’s beard, Fitz!” Chess mutters. He looks over at Renard as he comes in off of his brooding perch and shrugs. “He’s out of control. Dolly sent our costumes, and he’s barely able to contain himself.”

The gargoyle arches a brow, his expression smug as he replies. “Perhaps you should send him downstairs? If she did this, she should be the one to deal with the fallout.”

“Actions have consequences,” the dragon rumbles with a matching look of glee.

I don’t disagree, but Fitz’s ADHD isn’t the princess’ fault.

“She’s probably getting ready with her friends. We should let her have that time,” Chess says as he pushes his glasses up. “Those two seem to make her feel accepted and normal. I think she needs that.”

“She’s gonna be maaaaad all you fuck knuckles are talking about her like she’s not an adult capable of making her own decisions,” Fitz interjects. “My baby girl has enough people trying to control her.”

My snort hurts; that’s how hard it is. “Fitz, you track her like you’re hunting her—on the app, in person, in her room—how are you any better?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he gives us a very knowing look. “She knows I’m trailing her. If she told me to fuck off, she knows I’d try. And I let her make every decision I can without acting like she’s a kid because she’s younger than us. Stop trying to be her daddies and be her Daddy, dumbass.”

His words hit me like a giant whale dick slapping me in the face. I’ve never known Fitzgerald Khan to drop wisdom like that, but I’ll be damned if he’s not right. We’re acting like overprotective parents, not… whatever we should act like. Despite his psychotic tendencies, Fitz has given her the most freedom possible, even though it has to be killing him.

I’m not touching the ‘Daddy’ thing with a ten-foot pole—because it made my dick feel like it grew that fucking big.

Adjusting myself as discreetly as I can, I scratch my chin and nod at my brother. “He’s right. Even if she gains a little experience and wants to try out advanced kinky shit with those two, we can’t boss her around when we’re not in class. That girl has a brat streak a mile wide, and she’ll do stupid shit just to teach us a lesson.”

“Oh, for shit’s sake, Felix!” We all turn our heads to look at Chess. He’s rolling his eyes hard enough to pop them out of the sockets. “Let’s all take a moment to admit, even silently, that I’m right. We’re all interested in her, whether or not it’s smart, and we can quit dancing around semantics.”

“He’s not wrong,” Renard says with a smirk as he lounges on his throne. “You are constantly correcting yourself, Raj. You can’t win the prize if you’re not on the board.”

This isn’t the time to argue about this crap.

Luckily for me, my twin jumps in as if he just found the thread again. “Aren’t you asshats going to show us your costumes?”

Saved by his inability to focus yet again.

“No!” Aubrey snarls, as he crosses his arms over his chest like a child.

I’m surprised when the lazing gargoyle leaps to his feet, grinning a little as he walks over to retrieve two boxes from behind their chairs. His eyes are dancing with merriment, and I assume he must like what the snarky rabbit sent. He drops them, bending to pull out a sexy version of a Batsuit.

I’ll be damned.

Fitz howls with laughter and even Chess is snickering as he looks at the short skirt and heeled boots. “Oh, baby girl, I’m giving you the best orgasm ever for this. I can’t wait to see what the hot tamale is going to be.”

The dragon hunches further into his seat, his iridescent eyes glittering with promised vengeance. Renard winks at him before he pulls out a wildly colored rave girl outfit complete with short tutu, a unicorn horn that lights up, furry boot covers, fishnets, gloves and a bikini top. It looks like the 80s threw up over the clothes and it only takes a moment before we’re all howling again.

Oh, she got him good. That damn EDM and cute shit… he’s not mad because it’s sexy or colorful. He’s mad because it’s adorable and he doesn’t want us to know how much he’s enjoying the cuteness of his costume.

And they say I don’t notice shit.

Chess looks over at me with a smug smile and mouths, “She’s perfect.”

I’m starting to see that, little brother.