Page 13 of Blood on the Ice

“Scout’s honor,” he says, holding up two fingers in a salute. “Any allergies? Dietary concerns? Plain dislikes?”

“Pushy ass young dudes who won’t listen,” I mutter as I step back, needing to put distance between me and the heat emanating from his frame.

His hand catches my wrist and he tsks. “Oh, Iknowthat isn’t true, Morgana. Now be serious. I’d hate to ruin the evening by making you hurl on my shoes.”

Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Fine. Shellfish and pistachios are no-nos and I prefer red meat to pork or chicken. Is that good enough?”

Leaning in, he brushes his lips against mine so lightly I think I imagine it until he whispers, “That’ll do me.”

The temptation is too great, and I rest my palms on his chest before pushing him away. “I appreciate your offering to compromise. However, I must return to work.”

Lucas pouts, but his eyes betray his actual feelings. “If you say so, ma’am. But when you get home to my amazing meal, that’s when work ends. Understood?”

I blink, tilting my head as I consider my answer. ‘Normal’ Morgana wants to tell him to get fucked, but ‘weirdly attracted to a bratty alpha cub’ Morgana doesn’t want that at all. I feel split in two and not in a good way. So I settle for neutral. “I’ll do my best.I can’t predict emergencies, but I won’t actively get distracted if possible.”

“Good girl,” he says as he kisses my cheek.

A snort escapes before I can stop it. “Oh, you’re barking up the wrong tree with that.”

Shrugging, he winks at me. “We’ll see.”

“What if I don’t thinkyou’vebeen a good boy?”

He turns and heads for the door, looking over his shoulder before he reaches for the knob. “I’d expect you to do something about it—depending on who wins, of course.”

My face turns bright red and I’mveryglad when he gives me his back again. “Who wins what?”

“The struggle for power, of course. Unclear at the moment, but sounds like a helluva good time.” He opens the door and then pauses again. “And lock that damn passage. It’s not safe to leave yourself exposed like that.”

No shit, Sherlock—I would have done that if I’d known it existed.

Now I get to wonder what other hiding places Magnus had installed in this office, or worse, the house I’m living in.

Great. There goes the idea of sleep for the next week.

whatta man

Getting a maintenance person to let me ‘borrow’ a key to Morgana’s place was both a piece of cakeanda bargain. I wasn’t worried it’d be an issue, but since I crowed about it beforehand, I didn’t want to look like an idiot. Thankfully, she didn’t level the playing field by putting some sort of memo out to deter me. Honestly, I don’t blame her for holding back—finding me in her house hours later will confirm her fears about her safety here.

I’m glad I got it, but not happy when I think about it that way.

Shaking off the odd sensation of worry, I step inside the old house and look around. The decor screams the influence of the previous owner and that has to suck. Morgana’s stuff is likely being shipped from overseas and she can’t very well spend vast amounts on upgrading the house she’s staying in without looking like Magnus’ version two-point-oh. That means she’s stuck in this weirdIndiana Jonesnightmare the former dean called his own. It’s stiflingly old world masculine and even I feel the misogyny leaking from the walls.

“Gross,” I mutter to myself as I explore the front hallway and adjacent rooms. “This guy has his own fucking award room masquerading as a formal living room. Hell, even I don’t display every award someone has ever handed me like this.”

Turning away from the ‘tiny dick’ area, I walk through the dining room to find a gorgeous kitchen. The setup here is far nicer than one would assume an educator would have in their university accommodations. SubZeros, professional ranges and ovens, and marble with polished chrome make this room the least objectionable I’ve seen so far. At least it doesn’t feel like a good old boys smoking room—this feels like a setup that had a paid staffer working and cleaning it. Fuck, that dragon bilked the shit out of this place. Morgana will struggle to fix the accumulated errors in her audit.

Which means she’ll have to deal with living in this nightmare, whether she likes it or not.

I’m not fond of that idea. In fact, I sort of hate it and I don’t know why. Frowning as I open the fridge to find leftover takeout containers, condiments, and very little else, I sigh. The only time I find empty food storage like this is when I select high-powered women who don’t have the funds for staffers to make sure this doesn’t happen. I’m not knocking a driven career gal; I find theclash of dominance hot. But they seem to run everything in the world like a well-oiled machine and treat themselves like shit. I don’t know if society ingrains that in chicks or not, but I’d be surprised if it didn’t.

I need help, as this plan won’t suffice. Deciding to figure out what else needs done to make this night what I envisioned, I walk into the living room and note that the huge couch is made up with linens and pillows. She’s sleeping here rather than the goddamned bedroom, for fuck’s sake. Those assholes on the board must not have even cleared out the private spaces in this museum to Magnus’ massive ego.

Fuck this. I’m calling in the big guns.

I open my phone and click a contact as I take the stairs two at a time. The need to verify the abusive behavior of the people who sentenced Morgana to her exile here thrums in me as I listen for the voice to answer. When the line opens, I’m stepping into a bedroom that is massive and has the scent of… things I don’t want to imagine. As a shifter, I’m well acquainted with powerful scents, even long after the people are gone. I don’t know how sensitive gargoyles or gorgons’ noses are, but if she can smellanyof this, I know why she’s not living in this damn room.

“Nana!” I cut her off as she fires questions about the murder and how Thorne handled himself. “That’s all fine for the moment. There’s something important I need to talk to you about.”

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