People I Don’t Like
People I Don’t Like
Delores
Morning in the annex kitchen is always a little operatic, but today the six of us have reached a new pitch. We’re all crammed around the central island, battling for counter space like it’s a limited resource.
Felix is in his running gear from the waist down but hasn’t committed to a shirt yet.
He’s leaning against the stove with his hair still wet, clutching a mug of black coffee like he’s trying to telepathically absorb its power.
Chess is methodically loading my backpack with Tetris-level snack precision while occasionally popping bites of fruit into my mouth.
Fitzy is perched on the island in shorts printed with tiny dancing lobsters and a t-shirt that says ‘Come At Me, Bro.’ Rennie is reading the day’s global news and annotating his class syllabus with a fountain pen that is definitely older than dirt.
My dragon is sitting next to him, accepting pages from the gargoyle to read as he drinks a huge mug of coffee and snarfs down his food.
I’d love to feel warm and fuzzy as usual, but something is… off… and I don’t know what it is.
I’m in my full ballet uniform—leg warmers, a worn t-shirt, and hair in an aggressively functional bun—because my schedule is up at five-fifteen on Mondays if I want to beat the mat rush at the studio.
Chess has already pre-gamed his day with three mugs of tea, so the kitchen smells like a contest between the herbal and the industrial, and I love it because it means everyone is alive and accounted for.
Rennie is the first to break the group's silence, which is rare. “We’re reconvening on the book tonight, correct, mon amours?” He closes the paper with a snap and fixes me with a look. “Assuming our bunny has not been scheduled for any surprise disciplinary board appointments.”
“Unless they’ve invented a new flavor of humiliation that’s even more creatively public than last week’s, you’re on,” I say, doing my best not to sound too bitter about it. “But I’m not betting against their cousin and those nasty canines.”
Aubrey nods, sipping his coffee slowly before he adds, “We should use the time between dinner and bedtime to see if we can glean more, yes. I don’t want to waste our time looking at anything else until we finish it.”
Felix grunts. “You should let us help, Draconis. It’s not like we’re incapable of handling tweezers. Though after the story you told yesterday, move to tongs or something. Chess should have some.”
“Tongs? No, no, that’s amateur hour,” Fitz says with an excited gleam in his eyes. “We have a pair of genuine, food-grade, heat-proof silicone mitts, if we’re worried about magical germs. Before you mock me, they’re rated for up to seven hundred degrees. That has to be better, yeah?”
“You ruined a pan when you tested that claim, and I’m still not happy about it,” Chess says, not looking up from his campaign to pack my backpack. “Plus, I don’t think using my kitchen gloves is going to help, Fitz.”
“That was collateral damage, babe. It was all in the name of science.” Fitz does a little shimmy, knocking the salt shaker to the floor, which I catch with one hand before it can shatter. The guys give me a look of pleased smugness, like I’ve just performed a high-wire act perfectly.
“Anyway,” I say, trying to herd the conversation back to the point, “Tonight's good for the book, provided I don’t get expelled before then.”
“Tonight, then,” Rennie says in a satisfied tone. “Perhaps we will be lucky enough to find new information, oui?”
Chess finally closes my bag and turns to me with the gravity usually reserved for discussing our enemies.
“You need to eat more protein today, Angel. I put the chocolate ones in the side pocket for you, and the blue electrolytes. Please don’t trade them away for…
” he glances at Fitz, “… a six-pack of chocolate pudding like last time.”
“That was a strategic decision, and I stand by it,” I say with a grin. “It paid off, if you’re wondering.”
Felix snorts and says, “If you eat like a rabbit, you will have the strength of one, Princess.” He looks pointedly at Fitz, who gives him a sheepish look. “Don’t play ‘Let’s Make a Deal’ with my twin. Chess has you on a very precise diet so you stay upright under all this stress.”
My crazy clears his throat to retort, but stops when his phone beeps.
He glances at it and turns to us with a frown.
“There was a major incident on the quad last night. The campus is in lockdown from eight to noon, so if you have classes before then, expect extra security in the buildings. They’re not saying what it was, but the staff rumor mill is already working overtime. ”
That does a lot to kill the mood. Even Felix stops fussing as he scoots closer to his brother to see. “Any fatalities?” he asks. “That should give us an idea of what the fuck happened.”
“Just injuries, so far. But the lockdown covers the Shirdal building. If you’re headed to ballet, you will definitely want to stay with the escorts all the way to class and then only leave when the next person comes at the end.
” Fitz wrinkles his nose and looks at me sternly.
“Take it seriously, Baby Girl. We have no idea what the fuck this shit is.”
“Banjo and Bowser offered to run me through the staff tunnels if I needed to at some point. If it feels sketchy after ballet, we’ll start using them,” I say, with more confidence than I feel. “Does that make you feel better?”
Fitz grins. “Yes, it would. Big bro is taking you to ballet, but if you even get a whiff of lips from the guard dogs or anything else, ask the prey folks to hide you underground for the rest of the day. No traveling on the surface if there’s still problems, got it?”
My cheetah mate smiles sheepishly as he murmurs, “I kind of agree, Angel. I don’t see a reason to risk it, you know?”
The breakfast chatter stops there as the others throw in their two cents, and I sigh in resignation. “Okay, I promise. Now let me finish eating.”
Rennie resumes annotating, and the twins bicker about what the problem might have been. Aubrey is quiet as he goes back to his paper. It’s warm and safe and almost normal, which makes me wonder when the next shoe is going to drop.
I don’t have to wait long because Felix breaks the spell despite Fitz’s protests. “I tried calling Taka again on Friday.” The exiled Raj shrugs when the room goes silent, staring at his mug as if it holds answers. “I got nothing. No reply, not even the usual ‘I’m busy’ text.”
“The last time we heard from him, he was—” Aubrey breaks off as he looks at me, but the implication is clear. The last time we saw the head of the Khan line, he was on Lucille’s yacht, surrounded by nubile women and men, grinning like he had all the aces.
I press my lips together because I don’t want to say the obvious. But I know, and Felix knows, and Fitz probably assumes what’s going on.
Rennie’s gaze lands on me, soft and full of some emotion I don’t have a name for. “You do not have to say it, cherie. Taka has chosen a side, and it is unpleasant for us to imagine.”
No one says anything for a long time. I make a show of picking at my fruit because I don’t want to see the looks in their eyes.
“Maybe he’s just sailing around with her being a lech and spending money.
It might not be some scary, evil threat that they’re together and unreachable,” Fitz says as he leans back on the counter.
“Our dear dad is lazy as fuck and doesn’t do his own dirty work ever. It’s probably just a coincidence.”
Chess gives him a wry look. “Are we ever that lucky, love?”
Grumbling, Fitz says, “It could happen.”
Felix finishes his coffee and sets the mug down. He looks at me, and then at Fitz, and then away. “Just be careful today—all of you.” He makes it sound like an order, which it probably is.
Aubrey stands, checks his watch, and grabs his bag. “I’ll see you all later. I have books to catalogue. Snack-size, I’ll meet you at the library after your last class. Raj, you and the others can watch the annex just in case.”
Felix nods and then glances at me. “I’ll walk you to the Shird.”
The rest of the breakfast is a scramble of last-minute packing, water bottles, and the usual argument over who gets to use the good umbrella. I win because I have pretty hair and Fitz pretends to pout. As we get ready to go, I square my shoulders and head out to meet the day.
It’s going to be okay, Dolly. You’re overreacting.
We don’t even make it to the door before all six of our phones go off at once again.
The sound is a dissonant chord that would make even the most tone-deaf predator pause.
It’s a campus-wide alert—but only for our system.
I’m halfway through shoving my foot into a shoe when I see the red banner, and before anyone can even tap ‘view details,’ there’s a thudding at the back door so loud and insistent it sets off the house’s vibration sensors.
That is not good, and I am definitely not happy.
Felix is moving before anyone else. Aubrey’s at his side, phone in hand, with his free arm ready to block intruders.
Fitz, true to form, goes for the laptop on the table and starts swiping through camera feeds.
The pounding comes again, harder, and that’s when Rennie moves to join Aubrey at the front of the pack.
A voice, filtered through the security comm, says: “Council business. Open this door immediately.”
What the fuck does that mean? Did that fucker call the goddamn Council over a fight between me and the Heathers?
Felix yanks the door open, hard, his snarl in place as he prepares to roar at the people there. However, when we see the intruders, he stops in his tracks, turning to look at me with wide eyes.