Page 23 of Blood on the Ice

Shaking my head at the ridiculousness of using this rather than an assistant at a welcome desk, I give the woman an irritated glare. “I need to see someone in shifter biology—preferably an expert. It’s urgent.”

The woman behind Rhoda the robot frowns a little as she glances at her screen again. “Oh, dear. It looks like the professor is still at her current meeting. I can send you to her floor to wait.”

My patience is stretched thin already, but I nod. “Fine. Who should I see and where should I go?”

“Professor Shadwell is in sector two, floor ten, in office number four hundred eighty-two. Her credentials are: B.S. in B&B from Stanford, Masters in Shifter Sciences from Yale, and Ph.D.s in Shifter Zoonotics and Shifter Psychology from State University. The professor has been head of the Shifter Physiology and Sociology department since 1999. Please wait until you are called.”

With another pasted-on smile, the assistant points toward the elevators before the screen goes dark and the robot trundles off. I rub my temples with my hand, annoyed as hell that I’m dealing with some sort of robot instead of a person and I have to wait for the answers I desperately want. Each delay today means less time to apologize to Morgana for my sudden shutdown. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit about peacing out on a one-night stand, but this was definitelynotthat. I didn’t understand why Ifelt so drawn to her until we fucked and that finale cemented the instincts I’d been ignoring—I think. I need to know for certain before I see her again. She’ll be furious if I find her and give her a supposition. That is, if she doesn’t run for the hills when I broach the subject at all.

This is the worst possible timing.

Stalking over to the elevators, I find the one that says it goes to my destination and hop in. A sign above the buttons tells me to hold on, so I do, and when the damn thing shoots off like a rocket, I almost piss myself.Hermes on skates. This thing is like a damn space shuttle!My eyes narrow, irritated that the Rhoda-thing chose not to warn someone who doesn’t belong in this building about the damn blast-off. I’d bet my left fang the security people spend their days laughing their asses off at people losing it. This fucking thing is a health hazard.

When it zips across, then up, then diagonal, I’m thankful I haven’t eaten in a few hours. I get motion sick at these speeds and the staff in this place is lucky I haven’t yakked. The elevator finally jerks to a stop and I stumble out, groaning a little as I drop into one of the big chairs in the waiting room. Suddenly, I’m grateful the professor is occupied—I’d hate to go in there green at the gills and ready to puke my guts up.

It’s undignified.

Leaning my head against the back of the couch, I close my eyes and try to get control of my roiling guts. This day has been one disaster after another, including the weird behavior of my team at practice. It’s almost like I’ve got some sort of curse plaguing me, but I know that can’t be true. I left Morgana’s last night, went straight to my apartment, and then to the rink immediately afterward. I haven’t had contact with shit out of the ordinary,so that’s impossible. Besides, a bad day doesn’t equal magical punishment.

“You look awful!”

I blink, looking around for the source of the sound in confusion. When I don’t see it right away, I hold my stomach while I continue squinting at the waiting area. “Who said that?”

A tiny girl comes out from behind the empty desk, her dark eyes wide as she assesses me. “I did. You look very sick. I should call for someone to look at you!”

It takes everything in me, but I shake my head. “No, no. I’ll be fine. It’s probably just motion sickness from that death trap. Don’t call anyone.”

“Oh, dear,” the shifter frets as she scurries behind her desk and reappears with a bottle of water. She sniffs the air as she comes closer and frowns. “Maybe, but I doubt it. I can smell… something. I really need to get the professor.”

Just fucking great. I probably gave Morgana some ridiculous stomach virus, and she’s cursing my name as she barfs at her place.

Taking the water, I sip it slowly, looking at her as she twiddles her small hands. She’s clearly upset and I don’t know what to do with that. I’m not sure why she’s so certain, but I may have to humor her before she has a nervous breakdown. I close my eyes and let my head fall back. “Okay. Call whoever.”

“Thank fuck,” she mutters as I hear her skitter across the floor and climb something. A beep sounds as she uses the intercom, and I vaguely hear her speaking to someone who sounds jolly and exuberant. When she’s done, the diminutive girl walks backover to stand near. “Professor Shadwell and her appointment are both coming. They’re concerned, too. My kind can smell when there’s something off with chemistry and we have some resistance to poison in our bloodstream. That’s why they’re taking me seriously, if you’re wondering.”

I wasn’t, but good to know.

The sound of footsteps rushing over the carpet fills the air and before I can even open my eyes, a familiar voice gasps, “Lucas!”

Well, now I’m truly fucked—I didn’t want to see her until I got answers.

dirty little secret

“Help me get him to my office, if you will, Dean.” Zuzanne walks over and puts one arm under the pale hockey player. “Beatrice, if you will call Ignatius and light a fire under him in case this is magical, it would help immensely.”

I walk over and give Lucas my arm, biting my tongue when a jolt of energy crawls up my arm when our skin touches. His eyes fly to mine, but he says nothing. I don’t know why he’s here, but suddenly, I’m very glad whatever is happening to him has picked the perfect location to manifest. He leans heavily on the two of us as we work to get the big bear shifter to the office. I’m glad Zuzanne is at least as strong as I am, because I’m not sure we would have made it otherwise. Once we get there, we dump him on the small couch under her windows and he sprawls out on his back.

“His breathing is heavy,” I whisper. My hand comes to my chest and I rub it unconsciously as fear slices through me. Lucas seems to be getting rapidly worse and I have absolutely no idea what to do. Not only is he a student damn near collapse, he’s also the grandchild of a Society member and a guy I let get too close the other night. All of those worries are flying around in my head as I stare at the prone form in front of me.

How much worse can I screw up this job before they toss me in jail instead?

Of course, that’s not the reason I’m panicking, even if I want to pretend that it is. In reality, I’d come to this building to have a serious conversation with Professor Shadwell about my encounter with Lucas last night, even if I didn’t tell her my questions applied directly to me. What she told me was concerning enough, but now I have the subject of my research laying on a couch looking like death warmed over. As if he can hear my thoughts, Lucas opens his eyes and gives me a sheepish expression. His posture is so haggard that I can’t stop myself from grabbing a chair and dragging it over next to him.

“Morgana, if you could ask him a few questions about his day while I grab some supplies from the closet?” Zuzanne’s requestpulls me away from blue eyes, and I nod. She bustles out the door, leaving us alone for the first time since our tryst.

Lifting my hand, I push sweaty strands of hair off of his face gently. “So… tell me where you’ve been today. It’s important, I guess.”

His eyes close as he murmurs, “I shouldn’t have left.”

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