Page 98 of Eat. Prey. Love.
“Perhaps,” Lucille says, her tone deceptively soft. “Now, I must go. Remember: I’ll be watching you.”
The line goes dead, leaving a silence that roars in my ears. I set the receiver down slowly, my hand trembling slightly. The uncertainty of Lucille’s words wraps around me like a shroud, and I can’t shrug off the unease that settles in my bones. Ireallydon’t want her to do something rash—like send Bruiser to France to trail after me.
“Are you okay?” Rufus asks, his voice low and concerned. “That sounded rough.”
“As much as I can be,” I groan. “Just typical Lucille bluster, I’m sure. I’m just frustrated I wasn’t able to get anything out of her about her family. We’re running into brick walls trying on our own.”
When I glance at Cori and Rufus, their faces painted with concern, I can’t help but wonder why Lucille didn’t mention my Pred Games victory.
That was worth boasting about, right? It’s aggressive, assertive—exactly her style. So why the silence on that front?
“Maybe she’s upset about you calling out the Council,” Cori offers tentatively, as if reading my thoughts.
“That’s possible,” I reply, but the suggestion doesn’t sit right. Calling them out was bold—precisely the sort of move Lucille would eat up with pride. No, it has to be something else.
I feel it—an itch under my skin, a restlessness in my bones. Lucille isn’t one for empty threats. Whatever scheme she’s concocting, whatever ace she’s hiding up her designer sleeves, it’s clear she’s playing a game whose rules I haven’t yet deciphered.
I have to find out what the fucking hell she thinks I did to embarrass her before this blows up in my face.
“Hey, let’s not worry about that now,” Rufus says, trying to lift the mood. “We’ve got sweet things to eat and nails to paint. Let’s enjoy our slumber party while we still can, girl.”
“Right,” I force a smile, letting my friends’ laughter pull me back from the precipice of my fears. But as I join in, my mind races, trying to piece together the puzzle of Lucille’s demands.
What the hell does she know that I don’t?
Cool Kids
Themorning lightseeps through the windows of my library and I grunt in irritation. It’s Monday—back to the grind after spring break and the world of academia feels particularly burdensome today. I stretch my limbs, each one popping in protest, as I sit at my massive desk and get ready for the day. The digital chime from my phone is insistent, so with a groan that rumbles deep from within my chest—a dragon’s growl muted by human form—I reach for the device. I fucking hate this thing as much as I love its usefulness.
Dragons are complicated.
My screenlights up with a flurry of notifications, but two school-wide emails leap out at me.Their subject lines glare like a pair of eyes I’d rather not meet so soon after breakfast. The first proclaims ‘an enhanced plagiarism policy’, and the second heralds the arrival of ‘new tech’ to sniff out academic dishonesty. I can almost hear the hackles on my neck raise as I consider why this is happening here and now.
“New tech, my scaly ass. Fitz didn’t install shit, so this was implemented without the actual IT depertment,” I mutter under my breath as my dragon snorts in derision. He doesn’t like this kind of shit anymore than I do because we’re creatures of old magic and ancient knowledge. Technology always seems to bristle against our scales. A sense of unease coils in my gut; this initiative isn’t just about maintaining integrity in essays and term papers.
There’s a whiff of something else in the air—something foul and intended to cause maximum damage.,
My nails tap against the screen of my DiePhone as I fire off a group text to Chess, Rennie, Felix, and Fitz. I don’t include our girl yet because right now, I have nothing but suspicion and no evidence. She needs to be able to focus on her classes to finish out this year strong.
LustyLibrarian: Did you see the emails?
I wait for responses, knowing some of our family don’t look at their phones often. Felix, the cool-headed strategist, will be plotting three steps ahead. Rennie will share my concern about the true intent behind these emails. Chess, ever the organizer, will be raring to add these things to our boards so we can get our steps in place. And Fitz... well, Fitz isn’t likely to have read the messages due to the disdain he reserves for most of the administration. Once he does, he’ll be ready to seperate spines if it affects our mate.
My scales itch beneath my skin, a sure sign that my dragon is agitated. I know I can’tstopwhatever this shit is leading up to, buthe reminds me that I can absolutely destroy whomever is involved with very little effort. That’s the kind of response I try to avoid, so I sit my DiePhone on the desk, taking a deep breath as I locate one of my squishies. All I need to do is keep my temper from flaring and then we can handle whatever is going to happen.
“Bring it on, assholes. I’m ready,” I growl to myself.
My phonefinally buzzes again after a half hour of excruciating waiting. It’s odd for the others to take so long, but they must have been in their own classes or absorbed in some scheme.
CSpot: I don’t like this one bit.
TigerWoody: I had nothing to do with this shit. I need to do a full system scan to figure out what the fuck they installed. There are a lot of bullshit programs out there and some of them are going to give false positives that will impact a lot of students.
TigerKing: This is definitely a problem.
EmoBatman: I believe we have discovered why the Aung woman returned to campus.
LustyLibrarian: I’m going to find bite size. The more I stay here and wait for the shoe to drop, the more anxious my dragon becomes.