Page 9 of Prey It By Ear

“I think finding out for sure what the fuck she’s doing with all the kidnapped people is necessary,” Fitz remarks as he shakes his head. “Because we don’t know enough about magic to speculate what she’s using them for. If it were death, she’d just leave a trail of bodies and be done with it.”

“He’s doing fine, Princess,” Felix says as he catches me watching Chessie work to bait the Duchess as he chats up the bartender. “Focus here so no one sees you looking at him.”

“Fine,” I sigh as I go back to my paper again. “But Fitz isn’t wrong. I don’t want any of the Heathers or Todd back in the fray, but they don’t deserve to be a magical whatever for some chick on a revenge tear. Their families should get them back—that’s punishment enough for them—and they can live out their lives as vapid, baby-making fools if they want.”

Felix snorts, almost spitting his scotch out. “Warn us before you get saucy about your ex-friends. I almost fucking choked.”

Sniffing delicately, I keep my eyes on my second page as I say, “I’m all the warning you get, buster. Put that in the bank.”

“Cute, Princess, but⁠—”

I wave my hand as I see something that makes my intuition go haywire. “Shhh, shhh. Not now. I think I found something!”

Aubrey holds his hand out, and I hand him the paper to see for himself. My feline twins stop what they’re doing as the dragon checks it out, and I grin when his expression goes from curious to proud. “Lunchable, I think you might have found something.”

Fuck yeah—Dolly Drew for the motherfucking win.

Choke

Chess

Plopping down at the bar to listen in on the conversation between India and her table mates was a good plan. They’re not quiet, though they’re not overly loud and ridiculous because it would be uncouth. That makes for an easy eavesdropping session before I attempt to ingratiate myself enough to glean info. Of course, I’m still sitting here sipping my drink and listening while Ren is off doing his ‘ooh-la-la’ Batman impression, but being cautious is in my nature. Bloodstone beat that into me, and I use my semi-invisible ability to succeed all the time.

“Darling, you simply must winter in Zurich this year. We’re inviting a group of hopefuls from the West Coast, and it will be extremely amusing. Everyone knows the training out there is different, and when they ‘audition’ we’ll get to see why nothing will ever compare to live theater, yes?”

Ouch. I guess even the smaller preds embrace the cruelty of their families at this level.

I can’t imagine being so bored that tricking desperate people into humiliating themselves unknowingly is how you get your kicks. Perhaps that’s because the twins’ Nonna kept me close so the Raj and his ilk couldn’t fuck up my moral compass or my body? I don’t know, but I definitely need to thank her if we ever see her again. She wasn’t perfect, but she did better than most of these fuckers in Council families did.

“India, didn’t your father say not to play with your food in public?” The voice is smug, and when I glance at the mirror on the far wall, I note that it’s a smarmy-looking guy with pointed features. He’s dressed like a dandy, which is odd as fuck, but he’s also got the air of someone who knows they are important enough to question true wealth.

Taking a deep breath, I inhale, hoping to catch a whiff of him or the other three preds at India’s table. Smug Guy has a brisk scent that I believe is avian—eagle, perhaps? The others are a musky mix that I think is black bear, lynx, and otter. It’s interesting that she has surrounded herself with varied apex companions, but only one is top of the food chain level. The bear is a stocky female, while the others are all male, and for a moment, I wonder if maybe this is India’s flock.

Has the favored Shirdal heir taken a flock of mates and kept it secret with playacting? That would be some piping hot gossip—no wonder she’s on a train.

I shake my head, calming my natural cat curiosity as the possibilities whirl. Celebrity gossip, even just in the arts, is one of the guilty pleasures I indulge, but now isn’t the time. How I can use this as leverage is far more useful to consider right now. Even if I’m mistaken, the very whisper of that could echo scandal across the Prednet if Fitz helps me plant the seeds. Unlike the gargoyle, my ‘in’ may just be to pretend to be clueless and let them try to coax me into keeping my mouth shut.

Smiling to myself, I gesture for the bartender to bring me another drink. When he returns, I lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Is that the famous India Shirdal? I had no idea she’d finally settled down with a flock of her own! People will be jawing all over the world, especially because the company will have to name her the official heir instead of that exiled sister!”

That should do it.

The guy’s eyes widen, and he gives me a knowing expression. “I wondered if such a thing could be true. Madame has been with them since she boarded, as far as I know. They are not sharing cabins, though, so perhaps it is still under wraps?”

I nod as I swirl the ice in my glass. “It would cause quite a few suitors to go into mourning, I’m certain. Plus, it would limit her opportunities among the hoi polloi when she is looking for companionship in those who would dream of entering her circle.”

The bartender snorts. “Fancy way of saying she wouldn’t be able to coax special favors out of ingenues, huh? I can’t say I disagree, but I doubt many of them became stars, anyway.”

It takes control not to curl my lip at his casual dismissal of the suggestion of trafficking young hopefuls for influence. I know many preds accept the ways of the extremely wealthy class as just how things are, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m sure my adoptive family and my Angel’s are in on plenty of such schemes; that knowledge is bothersome enough without hearing normal preds act like it’s not a big deal. Our entire society is so incredibly fucked up, and this is why I love hiding in academia with the twins rather than being anywhere near the jet-set.

“I guess it is,” I mutter as I speak just a hair louder. “But if it’s true, then it affects a lot of businesses around the Shirdal Empire, I’d say. Film, stage, music—they do it all, and that father has been hanging on for years waiting for the wild child to settle. The firstborn being unable to bear more heirs really set them back, especially when they had to exile her for making it public.”

I don’t enjoy spreading that story about Henny, but it’s well-known and has been for a long time.

“I heard she is able, but she’s not made for business,” my gossiping buddy says as he wipes the bar. “Well, I mean, I read it online, but you can’t really verify that stuff. Never known anyone who went to her school before it blew up, though. Too highbrow for the likes of me and mine.”

“Mmm, well, she’s still moved to Cappie, right? Probably good for her to be in school if she’s delicate-minded.” I bob my brows, acting as if having an anxiety disorder disqualifies people from being useful. That’s what this dude is hinting at, and I’m just hoping something we say will get one of India’s crowd to come over for a chat. “I guess they will pull the younger model to settle down and propagate pretty soon, then.”

A chair scrapes and I grin a little into my glass. That must have done it; I feel the approach of what I believe is the lynx. I don’t know anything about him—only that he and three other preds are circling the Shirdal woman carefully. When he finally reaches me, the smaller cat hops on the barstool next to me, calling for my drink-slinging friend to come over. I brace myself for the first round of cautious small talk as he orders a Manhattan.