Page 113 of Eat. Prey. Love.
“You definitely shouldn’t,” I reply, giving him a smirk over my shoulder. “Do you really think they’ll have burly jock girls attending a techie school? It seems unlikely.”
The cheetah’s voice is as sharp and precise as his warrior poses. “Don’t let appearances deceive you. Kartika Dewi doesn’t train amateurs,” he warns, fixing Fitz with a look that could curdle milk. “If she’s coaching Zhuan xing, they’re going to be a force to reckon with.”
I exhale slowly, sinking deeper into my stretch as unease curls in my stomach. “Great. Another big name I don’t know that’s out to get me,” I mutter, the memory of the State school match fiasco flashing before my eyes—‘scholarship’ players who turned the game on its head. “Has Zhenga said anything about their girls’ team, Fitzy?” I ask, hoping for some insider knowledge.
Fitz shrugs, a nonchalant gesture that belies the serious undertone of our conversation. “She’s been weirdly tight-lipped lately. Something’s up, but she doesn’t seem to be in the mood to share, and Felix would be a better choice to push her. She barely tolerates me—something about my ‘jackassery’ sets her off.”
I can’t imagine why my ADHD mate’s ping-ponging between psycho and clever as fuck would bother the lioness.
My brow arches as I consider his words. Why would Coach Z be preoccupied and secretive? I tuck away the thought as another item on my growing list of concerns. “Focus, Dolly,” I remind myself, trying to push aside distractions. “You’ve got a match to win.”
But my white knight’s warning lingers in my mind as we continuestretching, a subtle reminder that in the game of predators, it’s never just about strength or speed.
It’s about outsmarting the opponent, and that takes a cunning mind—no matter how high their IQ is.
Aubrey’s arrival snaps me out of my reverie. He looks like he’s been dragged backward through a hedge maze, exhaustion evident in every line of his face. I don’t think he’s slept since the Captain and Raina brought our newest piece of the puzzle and it shows. I’ve tried to reason with him, and so has Rennie, but the stubborn lizard refuses to hear it. He’s determined to solve this thing, come Hell or high water.
“Still no luck with the scroll?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
He shakes his head, his frustration palpable. “That damn key symbol is hiding in plain sight, but it might as well be invisible. I’m fluent in over thirty languages—even some dead ones—and this is eluding me. My linguistics skills aren’t helpful in the slightest. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
“If anyone can do this shit, it’s the icy-Spay alamander-say,” Fitz says as he looks at the dragon upside down and gives him a thumbs up.
“Pig Latin isnot…Fuck it; I’m too tired to spar with you, Fitzgerald.”
I watch him closely, a furrow in my brow as he plops onto a chair that might give way any second. The furniture here is definitely not constructed with dragons in mind, and he’ll lose his everloving shit if it collapses under him.
“Ready for tonight’s match?” he finally asks me when our gazes meet.
“Chessie thinks we might have underestimated Zhuan xing,,” I admit, relaying the gist of our earlier discussion. “They have some big wig coach I’ve never heard of, and Fitzy thinks they could be using sabermetrics to analyze their matches.”
Aubrey’s frustration deepens into a frown, the lines around his eyes tightening. “The last thing we need is more surprises, snacksize,” he murmurs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I wonder if we can do some searches on their past results and?—”
“I keep telling her that no string bean Dew drinker is going to have a fucking chance with our girl. C’mon, Grumpy Gecko, back me up!” Fitz kicks his legs up until he’s standing on his head, and Chess smothers a laugh as his legs pump in the air.
All that does is get a snarl and a puff of smoke rings from the big guy.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper, infusing my voice with confidence I’m not entirely sure I feel. “We’ve got this. And if things get hairy out there, I know you’ll all be watching. Ready to jump in.” With a reassuring smile, I close the distance between us and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. My fingers graze the solid wall of his chest, feeling the steady heartbeat beneath my palm.
He really is a big softie at heart, despite his grumpy schtick.
Aubrey’s frown eases, but a shadow still lingers in his eyes as he nods, accepting my reassurance. He turns slightly, fixing Fitz with a dark look that seems to pierce straight through the tiger shifter’s nonchalance. The tension is palpable for a moment until Fitz’s booming laughter breaks it like a thunderclap.
“Lighten up, you Serious Skink,” Fitz chides, his grin wide and wild. “Dolly’s got more backup than a pop star on a global tour. We’ll have her covered from every angle.” He flexes his muscles playfully, his bulk rippling with implied power. “Besides, you know I’ve beendyingto teach some fuckwits a lesson, so if they try anything, I’ll be out there gleefully ripping off nutsacks and decapitating dumbasses in a split second.”
That would scare most preds, but not me—it makes my girly bits sing. Too badI need to focus.
I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips, knowing full well the kind of chaos Fitz can unleash if given even half a chance. Leaving Aubrey’s side, I pad over to the tiger, noting the semi he’s sporting at the mere thought of getting to maul the shit out of people. He really is a lunatic, but he’smylunatic, and I love it.
“You’re pretty excited about that blood and gore, baby,” I murmur as I bend until I’m level with him. “I could probably help you with working off that pent-up energy, but I have to keep my head in the game.”
“You can keep my head in your?—”
“For fuck’s sake, Fitz!”
Before the banter can escalate further, Felix emerges from the shadows. His head shakes slightly, as if to dispel the absurdity of Fitz’s bravado, and he steps toward me with a warmth that melts away the lingering pre-game tension. I rise to my full height, moving away from Fitz’s big problem to turn to the elder tiger twin. His lips press softly against my temple, an affectionate gesture that grounds me back to the moment.
“Sorry, Sir. He distracted me,” I say with a full on pout and batting lashes. “Won’t happen again.”