Page 27 of Prey It By Ear

Drops of Jupiter

Chess

I was quite proud of my mate for telling our bunny off—gently, but it needed to be said.

None of us would survive her sacrificing herself to save us, and that little instinct had to be squashed. Out of everyone, I didn’t expect Fitz to say it, but the relief in my heart when he did was enormous. It’s not like Dolly would ever ‘pooh, pooh’ our feelings, but she’s been conditioned to allow bad shit to happen to her so she can spare people she cares about. That shitty mother of hers used it on her regarding her avian nanny, I’d bet my fucking pelt on it, and we have to get her to understand that she does not have to do that anymore.

We’re all for one, and shit; if something bad is coming, we will all face it together.

When we loaded back up, Aubrey took the wheel and Ren perched his ass at shotgun. Their back and forth is a bit distracting, but Felix is growling at them from my previous spot on the one bench seat when they bicker a bit too loudly. Fitz and I are curled in the back with our girl as she frowns at her e-reader with a scrunched-up face. She won’t have to be mad too much longer—the map said we’re only a few hours away from the school.

“Angel, if your books aren’t doing it, maybe you should snooze for a little bit with us?” I give her a soft, but reproachful look since I know she wasn’t sleeping when the winged guys were.

“Chessie, I can’t. My nervous system is too keyed up to sleep in a vehicle crossing the open highways as we get closer to known enemies. Plus, the farther from vacation we are, the more the real world creeps in. I have no idea what the hell is coming at school, and that woman will be there, haunting me like some drug-resistant infection, and…”

Putting my finger on her lips, I murmur, “There’s time for that worry when we’re home. Why make yourself crazy now?”

She shrugs and nips my finger, making me chuckle. “Because none of us is normal and we’re all dealing with the stress of returning to that atmosphere in our own ways? I mean, Rennie and Aubrey are arguing about silly shit up there that I bet they don’t even care about. It’s helping to distract them, though, and to make it less onerous to be trapped in this car instead of flying.”

So intuitive, our darling bunny—she’s reading us all and looking for ways to help without letting anyone know she’s also struggling.

“Probably. But your method of dissociating doesn’t seem to be helping like usual. Why is that?” I scoot closer, looking over her arm at the screen. “Books always help you float away and relax.”

“There’s just… something about this book. I can’t put my finger on it.” Dolly frowns and shakes her head. “It feels familiar, but I don’t know why.”

She reads so much that it very well could feel similar to something else she read lately, so I take her device and close it. “Angel, you didn’t get enough sleep on the train, either. Lie down with Fitzy and me; see if you can close your eyes and drift away if I purr for you.”

Her grin is bright, but her eyes reflect the exhaustion and turmoil she feels inside. “Okay, Chessie. I’ll try. I love it when you do that; it’s soothing as hell. I had no idea how good that little attribute of your kitty would be until you did it, you know.”

Dolly should know about it—her fucking mother is a leopard—but sadly, that shriveled husk of a woman never held her only child for any length of time. I hate Lucille Drew with every fiber of my being, just like I do Taka Khan.

I can’t wait until we send them both straight to hell where they belong.

When I wake again, I smile when I realize my angel is curled close to me with Fitzy as a big spoon, her breaths coming slowly as she snoozes. That’s what I was hoping for, especially because she admitted to being so anxious. Dolly is incredibly strong and brave, but it takes a lot of determination to get past the trauma of her youth while it’s still trying to destroy you. Her confidence is growing and becoming more stable, but the constant knock-downs are making it hard for it to stick.

That’s why I do my best to be a peacemaker and caretaker—it’s how I express myself and a role that makes me feel fulfilled.

So I move carefully, licking my lips as I work her e-reader out of her limp hand. I want to see what is bothering her about that book; it wouldn’t be setting off her internal sensors if there wasn’t a genuine issue. Dolly isn’t a paranoid conspiracy theorist by nature; despite the enormous spider web of shit we’re mired in, she’s always careful to note which things are fact and which are unproven. There’s a problem with whatever she downloaded that is not obvious enough for her to know why she doesn’t like it, and I’m going to figure this out.

Opening the case, I turn it on and mark her page before I move back to the cover. It’s illustrated, with three people in a fairly suggestive pose. The art isn’t terrible, but it’s definitely better than the poorly designed theme and typography. Sighing, I note that it’s set in recent history, which makes me feel a bit old, and I wrinkle my nose. Aubrey and Ren have to deal with that feeling all the time, I guess, but I’m not enjoying the emotion for the first time on my side. It’s gross, even though I know I won’t look old anytime soon because of being a shifter.

Stupid internet making me feel like I’m crumbling to dust.

I huff quietly and swipe through the front matter, only paying attention to things that seem relevant. Being a longtime fantasy reader, I’m not bothered by a lot of world stuff there, but I don’t need it right now. I pause at the author notes and content warnings, squinting at them with derision. It feels like that’s more about titillation than guarding people’s mental health, but whatever. I’m just a reader and telling this person what to do with their books would reek of unearned entitlement, whether I like it or not.

“I just need to figure out why this is tweaking her,” I murmur under my breath as I scan through the first chapter. I read extremely quickly when I’m on my own, and no one is stopping me while we lie back here in the semi-darkness. “Then I can help her get past it, and she’ll be much less stressed.”

“Mmmm?” Fitz mumbles over Dolly’s head, and I freeze.

Having another person involved will slow me down, and she might wake up, so I whisper, “Nothing, babe. Go back to sleep.”

The tiger makes a humming sound, and I finally breathe again when it seems like he’s out. Looking at the reader again, I hold it up as I speed read through pages and chapters. My frown deepens as I realize that something is also bothering me, but I can’t quite figure out why. It’s making my cheetah pace inside and he’s not usually this easily riled. I grit my teeth and continue reading, noting the childish prose and ridiculously loose plot line that seems to serve as a light shell for erotica. That’s totally fine for some, but I can see why my angel wasn’t captivated by it. She prefers a bit more meat on the bones than this is giving.

Why is she still reading it then? Dolly will ruthlessly DNF books with us when we’re reading.

It has to be because of the weird feeling it’s giving her. She can’t let it go until she figures out why the damn thing is bothering her. I run my free hand through my hair, continuing to read and scowl at the glowing screen. The quality is dipping by the second, and I haven’t even caught up to where our mate was yet. Sighing as I grumble about the insanely poor research and incorrect information in my head, I focus on the provocation of my inner animal instead. The story is fairly common in beats and tropes—that’s how genre fiction works, so I’m not concerned with it. That means the problem isn’t in the tale by itself, as much as a combination of things.

“Chessie,” the tiger hisses as he squints at me through narrowed eyes over my angel’s head. “You are frustrated and I can feel it. What is going on with that fucking thing?” His gaze cuts to the e-reader, and I sigh—he’ll never let it go now.