Page 46

Aubrey

Tugging on my bowtie, I watch the room as parents drift in well past the time Henny set for this wretched meeting to begin. They’re all dressed to the nines, casually gossiping like fools, and flanked by varying amounts of staff alternating between bored and psychotic. Despite the screeching outrage over the events of Halloween night, it took an entire week for the supposedly concerned guardians of the spoiled assholes who attend this school to make time in their busy schedules to gather here. Hell, the dead kid got buried days ago, but these self-important twits have suddenly given the untimely death the attention it deserves.

Considering all the paperwork I had to do, one could say I find it rude.

I sigh, sipping my scotch. Once again, I got elected to be a presence at an official function. None of us wanted to endure hours of whining, blustering elite families, and lurking Council members, but we all agreed we needed to have eyes on the scene. This was to not only discern what motive there could be for killing a random student, but also to experience the Drews in person. Their daughter has wormed her way into our homes, and a clinical assessment of what threat they are to her—and how that may translate to us—is necessary.

Of course, Fitz volunteered to come with me, because the last time we chaperoned an event here it was ‘ the night my baby girl fell in love with me’, as if this was an enjoyable excursion. Felix overruled that fairly quickly—he knows his enforcer wouldn’t be able to control his ire if her mother was as odious as her reputation. Honestly, I’m not sure how I’ll react, either, but ironically, I was still the one everyone felt was most appropriate to represent our group.

There’s a fucking first time for everything, I suppose.

Speak of the devils and they shall appear. The room goes silent and all heads turn as Lucille Rostoff Drew and her brutish husband, Bruno, enter. She’s unironically dressed like the loyal daughter of a Russian mobster, with a garishly red designer dress, stilettos, and diamonds dripping from every available surface. Hell, the woman even has on a huge black hat, like she’s going to a goddamn polo match. Conversely, her toothy husband is in a boxy pinstriped suit with slicked-back hair, no doubt attempting to emulate a rich businessman. Unfortunately, the croc looks more like a lumpy mafia enforcer than a Don, and it’s immediately clear who is wearing the pants in this family.

“Henrietta Shirdal!”

The reigning leopard queen booms at the Headmistress as she glides across the floor, eyes disdainfully sweeping over every single shifter as she passes. They land on me for a moment, narrowing appraisingly before she turns to face the poor eagle running towards her like a frazzled chicken. When Henny stops, she adjusts her glasses to look up at the tall, vicious pred, and mutters a pathetic apology. Within seconds, she’s taken off again towards the dais in a flurry of motion. Lucille Drew clearly wants this meeting to begin.

Too bad it could have started half an hour ago, if she and her thug spouse had been on time.

Henny taps on the mic to get everyone’s attention, looking as if she’d rather get eaten by a bear than try to wrangle the parents’ attention on her own. Moving from where I’m standing in the back, I walk to the front row and pointedly sit across two chairs in the aisle before turning to glare at the crowd. Murmurs and shuffling follow, and I nod up at the Headmistress. She needs to get this show on the road before these idiots get restless—or worse, drunk—and start shouting.

“Good afternoon, esteemed families, honored alumni, and Council members. In the wake of the tragedy that occurred at our hallowed academy last week?—”

“How could you let a student get killed?! Are you incompetent?”

The shout comes from the back, and I whip my head around to identify the source. Everyone looks smug, but no one owns up to the interruption. Delores’ mother is staunchly facing forward, ignoring the rabble, but I spy a slimy bodyguard type, leaning against the wall in the back who wasn’t here before. He looks to be reptilian, and apparently shops at the same suit warehouse as Bruno, so he’s probably the Drews’ eyes on the crowd, so they can look disinterested.

None of these elite pred dipshits would survive outside of the cushy bullshit they’ve surrounded themselves with. It’s almost comical.

“Students have died at Apex every semester since it opened,” Henrietta says, finally answering the heckler, her voice shaking as she fearfully gazes into the crowd. “However, this is an unusual circumstance as it occurred outside of the Pred Games or a shifting control issue where the animal needed to be put down.”

“Cold-blooded murder isn’t normal!”

This time I’m sure I’ll catch the shouting twat, but it comes from a different direction, and suddenly, they’re all yelling. Predators rise from their seats, shaking fists and waving their hands, some even half-shifting as their emotions—or liquor—get the better of them. I’m never getting out of here if Henrietta doesn’t get this shit under control, and I’m about to go on stage to help when the evil queen herself rises to her feet. Lucille Drew gracefully strides up the steps of the dais, shoos Henny away from the mic, and gives the riotous parents a look so cold it could freeze the balls off a walrus.

“Silence, fools,” Lucille snarls.

The low timbre of her voice is from her animal, but her composure is as steady as Renard when he’s brooding on his balcony. She reaches up with one hand, removing her sunglasses to show the yellow eyes of her leopard and smiles with a hint of fang against her red lipstick. The roar of outrage dies instantly, and asses hit seats so fast, you’d think they were going to win an open-bar in Belize.

When the audiences’ submission is deemed sufficient, the woman who supposedly gave birth to our fuzzy ball of sarcasm and babbles sweeps her gaze over everyone. “Apex Academy has never been a safe place for students. It exists to teach our heirs and future leaders the way of our world—that the strongest predator survives because he or she does whatever it takes to do so. We do not know why this… weasel… was murdered, but given his family’s unimpressive standing, it is unlikely that it is an attack on the school or the Council. Since it was likely a personal grievance, we have decided to not provide any additional security on campus for the rest of the year. The Council expects their heirs to handle themselves in a manner befitting their status—to prove they can handle themselves.”

Did… did this bitch just tell everyone that their kids are on their own with a murderer on campus?!

Henny looks like she’s going to be ill, implying she wasn’t aware of this decision, and I blink as I brace for the reaction from the angry parents.

“You don’t have the authority to decide that!”

“Doesn’t the Council accept appeals?”

“What does Bruno think? Shouldn’t he be the one to make this decision?”

Oh, shit.

Delores’ mother doesn’t bat a lash before leaping off the stage, shifting mid-jump as she lands on the unfortunate dickwad in the second row, who thought to open his mouth about her husband. Before he can even respond, fangs rip his throat out, blood spraying to coat the screaming shifters on either side of him. Lucille shifts back to her mostly human form as she calmly turns to the crowd, a delicate finger wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. “We don’t talk about Bruno.”

I look away from her nakedness, feeling a shiver of disgust roll up my spine at the unnecessary display. I couldn’t care less about the killing—it’s the dictatorial dominance that makes me want to hurl.

This crazy bitch is definitely worse than our snack-sized girl is letting on, and I’m going to make certain Rennie, Felix, and the others know the full story. Growing up with two sociopaths as parents is no picnic, and it explains a hell of a lot about why Dolly seems to constantly struggle with self-confidence. Even if we can protect her at school, now I’m worried about what will happen when she goes home for breaks.

Perhaps she can stay here… with us.

Deciding I’ve seen enough, I rise, nodding at Henny as I make my way to the exit in the back. She knows I’ll take care of alerting a clean-up crew. I don’t know where those carrion-eaters are right now, but I’ll email maintenance once I get back to the library. Dolly’s in the archives finishing up a few tasks before the weekend, and I suddenly feel compelled to check up on her. Something about her mother and father being on campus with that sneaky looking bodyguard is putting my teeth on edge.

Squeezing the bunny mochi in my pocket, I grit my teeth and stomp out of the Admin building towards the library like a dragon on a mission.

Perhaps I am.

“Why didn’t you tell us your mother is a raging psycho?” I demand after I pound the panel to gain entrance to the archive room. I’ve worked myself into an infuriated froth on my journey from the Honeywell Admissions building, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to completely lose my shit at the girl hunched over in my workspace.

Dolly looks up, her blue eyes wide with concern. There’s a slight tremble to her hands as she carefully puts down the tweezers she’s holding a piece of parchment in, and she ducks her head for a moment. “I don’t like to talk about my family,” she mumbles.

Stomping over, I position a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at me, searching for the truth in her eyes. What I find isn’t dishonesty; it’s shame. Whatever her parents have done or continue to do behind closed doors is painful enough that she doesn’t trust anyone to know about it. The adorable spark of defiance and wit I’ve grown accustomed to has dimmed, because she doesn’t even fight me as I yank her out of the chair to her feet.

“Why, Dolly? Tell me why you won’t discuss something that obviously hurts you.” I press her, even though she’s squirming in place. This is important—if this girl has any hope of assimilating into our pack, we can’t have secrets.

Ironic coming from me, I know. I have plenty of my own secrets, but they don’t put any of us in danger.

“Because they fucking disowned me!” she shouts, finally looking up with a fiery glare. “They sent me here to survive on my own—to die—by order of the Council, because I’m not a predator. I’m a genetic fluke… a failure!”

I blink, watching her face screw up and before I can stop myself, I burst out laughing. Her expression goes from teary to murderous in a blink, and she lets a hand fly, punching me in the jaw. That only makes me laugh harder—I mean, fist vs. dragon—and despite the loud racing of her heart, she lets out a screech that would rival a goddamned pterodactyl.

“Why are you laughing at me?!”

It takes a moment to get my mirth under control, and when I do, I push her back into the wall with a smug grin. Pinning both her hands above her head with one of mine, I shrug, unable to keep from smirking down at the enraged bunny shifter. “Because, lunchable, you seemed to think any of us would give a chicken-fried gazelle you were exiled. Newsflash: all of us got exiled from our families for being fuck-ups.”

She sucks in a shaky breath, sniffling a little, and I almost let go, but I sense she needs someone else in control right now. Dolly has been a mess since we found out about the parents’ meeting, and working here in the archives was her idea. I assumed the thought of having to face her mother was distasteful enough to make her volunteer to do work study on a Friday night, ensuring no one could find her down here if they were looking. Of course, I’d never turn down her help, and she seemed determined to continue searching for clues about the mysterious maps.

I didn’t realize she was doing it out of fear.

“How would I know that?” she shoots back, equaling me in fire. “Fitz and Chess hinted at the reason they left Bloodstone, but everyone else hasn’t deemed me worthy of their story yet!” I smile as she fights against my hold, throwing my own words from our first meeting back at me.

Very clever, little dessert.

Snorting a smoke ring, I pause for a moment as the dragon lumbers inside, stretching and pushing against my skin. He likes her—who the fuck in their right mind wouldn’t—and this proximity is making it difficult to focus on the conversation. Dolly seems to notice my quandary, and she softens a bit as she waits for me to answer.

“Touché. I’m used to everyone knowing my sordid tale of rejection from the throne of my clash. I promise I will elaborate at the proper time. But, for now, do you have questions, bite size?”

Her body bucks against mine rebelliously, trying my tenuous hold on my control. “Yeah, are you going to kiss me or what?”

That does it—the fire in my belly ignites, and my dragon takes the fucking wheel before I can blink. Our lips crash together in a blur of movement, and my body curls around hers as she tries again to wiggle her arms free.

It won’t be that easy, bunny rabbit. I’ve been thinking about doing this since the moment you first sassed my dragon in the library.

Gently nipping her bottom lip, I growl low as my hand tightens on her wrists. Dolly gives me an adorably shy grin, almost making me give in as she pushes up on her tiptoes, presumably to kiss me again. The slide of her body against mine distracts the hell out of me, and I have to count to ten in Sumerian to hold back from delivering a harder bite. I know this girl is inexperienced—since Fitz won’t shut up about it—and…

Holy fuck, the minx just bit me!

A roar escapes me as her sharp teeth dig into my neck, and I immediately let go of her wrists. Backing away with a shudder, I desperately try to maintain control of the flames bubbling up inside of me before I roast my entire goddamn collection and get myself banished from another library. Her lips curve up in a satisfied smirk that makes me want to teach her a lesson, but I can’t. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.

“You...” I croak, straining to hold both my cock and my rampaging animal in check. “You can’t… simply do that. Shifters… can’t ...”

Her expression drops into despair, and I swear my heart hits the floor.

If I’ve hurt her…

“I thought you’d like it.”

I clear my throat, still not able to move any closer to comfort her, without fear of losing control. “I.. It’s not that I didn’t. It’s that… Oh, I can’t do this. You need a shifter sex ed class. I’m sure we can get it added to your syllabus for the spring.”

“Oh my god, I did it wrong again!” she wails.

Shaking my head, I rush over, fighting my animalistic urges so I can gather her in my arms. It aches to see her upset, and I don’t have the slightest idea why. “No. But you need to understand what an action like that means, before you do something you didn’t intend to.”

Nodding against my chest, she sniffles pitifully. “Okay. If you promise I didn’t mess everything up, I believe you.”

“I promise. It’s time to get you home now, anyway. It’s getting late,” I rumble as I run my hands over her back soothingly.

“Don’t wanna go anywhere they can find me. Bruiser will be looking for me,” Dolly mumbles as she looks up at me.

That must be the lizard from the back. Another growl escapes as I realize she fears the fucker. “I can escort you to the townhouse if you like. The tigers may still be awake.”

“Can’t I stay here with you?” She pauses for a moment and gives me a sly smile. “Or snuggle up with you and Rennie again?”

Horus, take the wheel of destiny, because I have definitely veered off course.

She keeps looking at me with big, teary eyes, and I crumble like a fucking cookie. I can’t allow word to get out that I let her spend the night, or I will never hear the end of this.

“If you stop crying, I’ll take you.”

The satisfied smile she gives me does absolutely nothing to calm the situation in my fucking pants, but it makes the scaly bastard inside of me smug as hell.

“I make no promises, Professor, but I have a feeling being with you will make me happy.”

May the odds be in my favor…