Page 6 of Blood on the Ice

“Dean, this is Lucas Wolfberg. He’s a freshman recruited to be the new star goalie for theBonecrushers.”

Squinting, I look over at Channing curiously. “Our hockey team… is called… theBonecrushers?”

“Rumor has it,” Lucas drawls as he looks me over, head to toe. “Though rumors can be quite unreliable. They said you’d come here dressed like a mafia don, but you look like you watchedReality Bitestoo many times in the 90s.”

My gaze meets his and icy blues clash with my dark gray orbs. “You’re awfully snarky for someone who’s about to be arrested for murder, Lucas.”

His lips curve, and he smirks. “I’m no science geek, but I watch enough TV to know they won’t have enough evidence to hold me. I’m here because I got sin binned too many times, so Coach sentme to cool off, so to speak. Dude was here when I arrived, and I called for help without touching him. No CSI bullshit for me.”

Touching two fingers to my temple, I rub it lightly. The prevalence of crime drama in the media leads people to believe they know what they’re talking about and though I’m not sure Lucas killed whoever this is, I believe he could be in big trouble. Losing an important sports star, finding a dead body, and not protecting a student won’t be a good start to my inauspicious career here.

“Channing. I need you to call Lucas’s parents and have them send their lawyer immediately.” She salutes me and scurries off quickly, yet again earning my internal praise. “Lucas, I can see this will be difficult for you. I need you to shut the fuck up until your mouthpiece gets here.”

His grin is sinful, and I have to fight off a shiver. “A lady who enjoys giving orders—nice.”

“I’m not joking, you idiot. You’re in a closed room with a dead body that appears to have its throat slit. You’re wearingknives on your feet. It doesn’t take Poirot to figure out who the police are going to focus on. Do you know the identity of this corpse?” I frown, realizing I hadn’t even considered asking that until now.

My people’s longevity dampens death or murder’s horror—you lose perspective.

“Pierre LaMount.” He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “He’s the goalie for Mapleleaf University. I took the spot on this team he wanted.”

Fuck me right in the ass. That’s means, motive, and opportunity in one fell swoop.

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter. “You definitely need to keep your big yap shut until a suit gets here. For your sake, the university’s sake, and for my sake,do not say a word. If those yokels get any of this out of you, you’re headed for the state pen before you can whistle ‘Dixie,’ buddy.”

“I figured that. You’re the only person I’ve spoken to since I got the coaches in here. Probably not the best plan since you have to throw me to the wolves if it benefits the university, but…”

I arch a brow. “But what?”

“Killing old Magnus for his sins took guts and character. You’re not the kind of woman who sells her soul to others, even when it would have benefitted you to do so. I’m gambling on you extending that courtesy to me.”

“You act awfully mature for a freshman, Lucas.” I give him an assessing look, trying to figure out if he’s one of the species that has long life spans and stunted life phases.

“Polar bear shifter. But my parents held me back from school for three years as a kid to make me bigger for sports. They do that here,” he says with a shrug. “So I am an older freshman, but you should see some of the football dicks. Some of them look like they’re in mid-life crisis range.”

They hold kids back from school to make them bigger for… sports? What backwards shit…

Lucas snorts. “Don’t think about it too hard. That’s the shit that goes on in the South.”

“Seems like I’ve got a lot to learn about living here,” I murmur.

He stands, moving around the blood and towards me. “That you do, ma’am.”

ice in my veins

The new dean issmokinghot even in her band tee and ripped jeans. She’s not afraid to be blunt, and she’s got an air of dominance that’s sassy enough to mean she’d be a fighter in the sack. I’m not worried about why she killed that crooked old lizard, nor that she’s older than me by several centuries. After this ends, I’ll find a way to get closer to her.

Chicks always dig the hot guy in sweaty sports gear, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

I stalk closer to her, grinning as I invade her space. To her credit, the dean doesn’t back down—she lets me walk right into her until we’re mere centimeters apart with a defiant look on her face. She’s taller than me, which never happens, but not by much. That puts her at about six foot six in heels and I enjoy having her almost at eye level in flat shoes. She doesn’t look breakable, like most of the girls I’ve dated in the past. Instead, she’s tall, broad shouldered, and solidly built. It’s refreshing, truthfully.

“Lucas, what the actual fuck are you doing? They’ll return shortly. Don’t be stupid,” Dean LeCiel snorts harshly.

Brushing a stray hair off her forehead gently, I arch a brow as I turn on the flirting. “What’s wrong, Morgana? Are you worried they’ll see how much you like me?”

“Oh, please. I amnota freshman ingenue and those cheesy lines won’t work on me.” Her eyes narrow and she looks like she’s struggling to decide if she should push me away or pull me closer. “And you do not have permission to call me by my given name.”

“But we’re going to be so close—I canfeelit.” She rolls her eyes and lifts a hand as if to push my shoulder, but I catch it and press my lips to her palm.

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