Page 61

Delores

I walk into the new classroom, determined to find the most strategic place to sit. Freezing in place as I look around, I notice it’s smaller than most of the classrooms at Apex, and there are no desks. Instead, armchairs, beanbags, and a multitude of comfy pieces of furniture are spread throughout the room. I’m already on edge, and that feeling only increases as I look around.

How many people are going to be packed in here while we discuss a very personal topic?

“Choose any seat you want, Miss Drew. My classroom is a safe space for all the students at Apex. I will watch your back.”

I turn to look at the gorgeous lioness who ‘assisted’ Felix in the ring during Shifter Basics, remembering the way she spoke to my grumpy tiger when he pinned her down. She’s definitely slept with him, probably more than once. Hell, maybe Fitz, too. She’s curvy and oozes sensuality—a bombshell with the brawn to take on any alpha—and she’s my new Shifter Sex Ed teacher.

Just. Fucking. Great.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I mutter as I find a large cushy chair near the door. I don’t care what she says; a scorned ex is a hard person to trust, and I don’t have it in me to fight with a new professor every day.

Her laugh is a deep, throaty purr as she gives me an amused look. “We’re going to have a lot of fun in class, I can see.”

I highly doubt that.

The rest of the class filters in, finding seats of their own. There are less than twenty other first-years here, and most of them are people I don’t even recognize. There’s not a Heather or a Todd-bro in sight, which is odd, considering they can’t seem to leave me alone. Frowning, I pull out a notebook and pen and situate myself, wondering what the hell is going to happen.

“Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Zhenga Leonidas, and I’m the lucky lady who gets to teach you about shifter sexual behavior.”

No wonder she was game to fight in the ring; she’s a Leonidas. They’re the most competitive Council family—and the most physical because they own the Pred Games.

Before she can continue, a jaguar in the back raises his hand. He doesn’t wait to be called on, which makes her sneer. “I don’t see why I’m in this class, nor do I get why I have a woman teaching me about sex.”

In a move that would make Lucille proud, the lioness pounces, pinning him to the bean bag he’s sitting on.

“Every semester, I have a shriveled little asshole like you who thinks his shit doesn’t stink. I’ll tell you what I’ve told all of them—you’re here because your parents or a professor have determined you do not understand the basics of shifter sexuality. Regardless of where you’ve been dipping your wick...” Her eyes slide to me and she smirks. “... or who’s been dipping it into you, you’ve shown a complete lack of knowledge about traditions, safety precautions, or breeding that must be corrected before you endanger yourselves or others.”

Crap. Now I know why this class is small… we’re the remedial sex dummies.

“Fine!” the jaguar says as he struggles beneath her. “So my parents punished me for what happened over Christmas break—it’s still bullshit.”

Zhenga snorts as she rolls to her feet lithely, slinking back to the front of the room as if nothing happened. “You wouldn’t be the first rich boy to earn a spot in my class for getting caught with sex workers. Don’t take it personally; I’m an equal opportunity bitch.”

“I’ll bet,” he mutters.

This moron wants to die, I swear.

Deciding I might as well learn something if I have to be in this embarrassing situation, I raise my hand. “Will we be learning about… rare shifter behavior as well?”

The lioness tilts her head, and I can see the wheels turning as she considers her answer. “Yes, I believe we might need to, Miss Drew.”

I let out a sigh of relief as she moves to a table to collect some papers. A sheaf of syllabi makes its way from person to person, and I wait for mine while Zhenga walks over to the light switch by the door.

“The first thing we’re going to do is watch a film about the traditions of canine and feline shifters. This information may also apply to other shifter types who behave similarly to these larger groups. You will need to take notes, because I expect a five-page paper on an animal of your choosing by next Monday.”

My eyes adjust to the screen and I watch intently, taking notes as the narrator explains how the two classes of animals find and identify others they want to mate with. A vibration in my pocket gives me pause, and I look around, hoping I’ll be able to at least read the message without getting in trouble. I almost laugh when I see the professor stretched out on her own bean bag, texting away like a pro. She’s not going to notice if I get up and start dancing a rhumba.

Ru-ru: How’s the birds and the bees going, Dollypop?

Coco: I’ve heard the teacher is a grade-A bitch.

I put my hand over my mouth, trying not to make a sound. Cori doesn’t mince words about people she doesn’t like, and I have a feeling my leonine professor is on her list.

Dollybear: She’s… something, that’s for sure.

Ru-Ru: You’d be cranky, too, if you should be the heir to the Leonidas empire, but your daddy won’t hand it over until you find a suitable mate.

Coco: Another reason the patriarchy needs to die off.

Dollybear: That would explain why she seems like she’s stalking the royal men.

Coco: It better not be yours, or I’ll…

Ru-Ru: Coco, even Dollybear has to know she’s done the horizontal mambo with the tiger king. It’s no secret on campus. But the past is the past.

Coco: I’m just saying I’ll… cut a bitch.

Dollybear: Cori!

Coco: Well, I will.

Ru-Ru: What else is going on? We haven’t seen you since we got back.

I chew my lip. While I’m dying to tell my friends all about break and my date with Chess, there’s a more pressing issue they need to know about.

Dollybear: Something weird happened this morning… right before class, actually.

Ru-Ru: Tell me!

Dollybear: I got this weird letter… from the murdered weasel. He must have arranged for it to be delivered after his death, because someone slipped it under my door before I was awake.

Coco: I don’t like the sound of that. Letters from dead people are no bueno.

Ru-Ru: Call us immediately after class. I don’t like that, either.

“Miss Drew, put your phone away!” Tearing my eyes off the screen, I find Zhenga Leonidas glaring at me as if she’d like to flay me alive. “You, in particular, need this information. Don’t be a fool.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the door to the classroom opens and a new girl strides in. She walks up to Zhenga, handing her a slip of paper, and turns to the class with a sneer of disdain.

“My name is Heather Mac Lachlan, and I just transferred from Bloodstone Academy.”

Oh, shit.

Zhenga rolls her eyes and mutters something about idiocy running in the family before she points to an open armchair, blessedly across the room from me. “Thank you for the information, Miss Mac Lachlan. Unless you have something else you’d like to dramatically declare, I suggest you sit down and start taking notes. Being late to my class doesn’t mean you won’t have to catch up with the information you missed.”

Ducking my head, I scribble notes through the rest of the class, but I can feel the new Heather’s eyes on me. I’ll have to find out why she’s here, and how she’s related to my guys—and why her name is freaking Heather.

Something about this feels like a set-up, and I’ve got enough enemies at Apex as it is. With a name like that, you know she’s going to be trouble. The last thing I need is some fucking Khan spy helping my ex-besties with their campaign of terror, but I have enough on my plate as it is.

Shaking my head, I continue watching the video, marking down different aspects of mating and hunting that seem important. Zhenga’s right—which I hate to admit—but I need to know how things work with my guys.

The surprise appearance of my period twice this semester probably means I need to make time tomorrow to visit with the nurses in the infirmary. According to Google, that means my implant needs to be replaced; after all, Lucille had it put in when I was thirteen and the internet says they have a shelf life of five years.

Another detail it might have been helpful to have before I got naughty with two brand new boyfriends recently—thanks, Lucille.

I’m still bitterly griping in my head when the voice on the screen describes sex with big cats, which makes my face turn bright red. Curiously, it doesn’t say a fucking thing about dicks getting stuck, and I frown. Did that happen because I’m prey? Fitz was such a player—he had to have fucked another prey animal at some point. Maybe it’s because I’m a rabbit?

Fuck, I don’t know, but it wigged both him and Chess out big time.

Chewing on my fingernail, I warily eye the lioness texting on her phone, knowing there’s only one way to find out for sure. I’m going to have to talk to her at the end of class and hope it doesn’t result in a literal cat fight with a teacher.

Hera help me, because if I get kicked out of this school for taking on a Leonidas, I don’t know if Lucille will be angry or proud.

That might be the most uncomfortable conversation I’ve had in a long time.

Talking with Zhenga about the ‘difficulty’ I experienced during sex, without disclosing which breed of shifter I was with, was a dance unto itself. The lioness is sharp as hell, and I could see the suspicion in her expression as she listened to my description. I doubt I could keep as much concealed as I wanted to, because when she promised to do some ‘research’, I saw the almost gleeful look in her eyes.

But I can’t worry about that now. My life is a ridiculous mess of secrets and threats, and I promised Rufus I’d call them about this letter as soon as I got out of class.

“Helloooooooo, Dolly!” he sings at the top of his lungs.

I wrinkle my nose, glaring at the phone as if he can see me. “I hate Badgers they want to see you dead’. It gives me the willies,” Cori says as she rubs her arms.

“I know. The Heathers and their groupies didn’t make a secret of hating me last semester, but after I fought Gold in class, they’ve been more of a nuisance than an actual threat. So he must be talking about someone who isn’t making their venom known.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize I don’t see the Heathers as much of a threat anymore. Maybe it’s a part of growing up, or finding my own way, or the fact actual deaths are happening on campus, but I can’t be bothered with their schoolyard antics. I’ve even taken to leaving my ‘Fuck ‘Em Up, Sis’ list in my room instead of carrying it around with me.

One less thing to worry about, that’s for sure.

Rufus squints at the paper again. “Why do people do shit like this? If this was to be sent after he died, why not call out the motherfucker in question? It’s not like they could kill him again. ‘Dear Dolly, this specific asshole is trying to kill you. Sincerely, cowardly weasel.’ That would be a lot more helpful.”

Sighing, I fold the paper and tuck it into my bag. “I don’t know, Rufus, but it sure as hell makes me feel like I’m in danger. Maybe that’s all it was supposed to accomplish—to throw me off my game.”

My friends and I exchange worried looks as I pack my things to head to the Tower.

Maybe I should call one of the guys before I leave…