Page 24 of Blood on the Ice

Not the time, my guy.

“Lucas, we can get into that later. Zuzanne wants to know your whereabouts and activities. You appear unwell. Let’s address one issue at a time. I promise we will talk once you’re well.”

That seems to help him focus, and he coughs, then nods. “Okay. I got up and had breakfast at my house. Then I went to practice. Coach talked to me for a bit afterward and then I came here. I haven’t done much, honestly.”

“Why did Coach Driftwood need to talk to you?” I ask curiously.

“The team is not gelling due to the incident in the locker room. Typical ‘be a leader’ shit,” he mumbles before a shiver runs over him. “Damn. I never get cold.”

I can’t help it; I snort. Of course he doesn’t; he’s a fucking polar bear! “Well, you seem very ill, and it might be related to that. If you ate at home and didn’t go anywhere but the rink, I don’t think it’s something slipped in your food.”

“Where was your water bottle, boy? Left unattended on the sidelines?” Zuzanne returns with a disapproving expression. “If so, it could have been dosed anytime. Now,whyis it a bit more complex, hmm?”

My mouth drops open and I look up at her as she brings over a bunch of medical equipment. “You think someonepoisonedhim?”

“Perhaps. It could be some sort of hex or enchantment as well, but I’m not taking any chances with Fraü Wolfenberg’s favorite grandson.” Her expression is fierce and I wonder if she knows Lucas’s grandmother or is just aware of who he is. “So we’re going to assume it could be and act accordingly. That’s why I had Beatrice call Iggy.”

Iggy? Like Slade’s Iggy? Fuck me.

“Lucas, why would someone target you in this way?” My brow furrows as I consider it, and I can feel him squeezing my hand. I don’t want to admit how good it feels, so I keep my reaction to myself.

He shrugs the other shoulder. “Take your pick, Dean. LaMount’s murder, my spot on the team, something to do with Nana, some bullshit my parents pulled, or maybe even… something to do with my personal life.”

Horror washes over me as I realize he means someone might know about our night together and took it out on him. Many on campus hate me; they could punish me for moving on from Magnus. It wouldn’t matter that he’s dead—by my hand—if it was one of his secret lovers that is lurking around this place like land mines.

“Oh, shit,” I whisper to myself. “It’s my fault.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Zuzanne booms as she takes a band and ties off the top of his arm so she can find a vein. “You can’t be everywhere, Morgana. Luckily, the boy was nearby and I canhelp avert the crisis. His numerous enemies could be to blame. After patching him up, we’ll find the fool responsible.”

“We?”

She laughs as he winces when she slides the needle in and starts drawing blood. “Well, notyou, boy. The Dean, campus security, myself, and likely Iggy. Whether it’s magic or science, we’ll have to keep this in-house or your grandmother will yank you out of here so fast your head will spin. I assume you don’t want that, right?”

“Uh, no, ma’am,” he mumbles and his hand grips mine tighter. “That’s not what I want.”

“But we’ll have to tell that Detective,” I start and she shakes her head.

“Absolutely not! I highly doubt they have anyone skilled enough to do what Iggy and I can once we have the right ingredients. Plus, he’ll definitely rat this boy out to his lawyer and his Nana.” Her grin is smug, but I can feel the determination wafting off of her.

Professor Zuzanne Shadwell is a force of nature. I’m glad she’s on my side right now.

By the timeZuzanne finished taking samples from Lucas, he looked exhausted. It was hard to watch him shrink from the larger than life, brash alpha to a pale, weak shifter sweating it upon this tiny couch. It definitely wasn’t made for a guy with his size and bulk, but he hasn’t complained once. In fact, all he’s doing is answering questions in a gravelly voice and holding onto my hand like it’s a lifeline. That scares me, but I keep my fears to myself until we have more information.

Could it be that someone knows about us? Or is Occam’s Razor more likely—the simplest explanation is usually the right one.

“You said the guys were standoffish at practice?”

He nods a little. “Everyone was on edge, but no one was rougher than normal. It’s not like I felt like any of them were gunning for me. I doubt its jealousy.”

His admission doesn’t help me because it solidifies his illness was less likely a nasty prank and more likely a targeted attempt to harm him. I don’t know if that’s because of me, his family, or the fucking dead player, but that’s because Professor Ignatius hasn’t trucked his ass here yet. At least if we can eliminate magic, it might shed some light on what’s going on. But apparently, an urgent call from Beatrice didn’t clarify that he was needed post haste.

I’ll discuss his lack of professionalism with him later and he won’t enjoy the conversation.

The man in question enters hurriedly with an old doctor’s bag. He gives me a charming smile, then nods at Zuzanne. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

My gaze swivels to the mischievous look on his face, and anger fills me. “We have an incapacitated student and a professor who clearly didn’t feel an urgent request was worth complying with.”

Putting his hand to his chest, Iggy sighs. “You wound me, Morgana. I actually rushed, but I had to stop by my place to pick up a few things in order to test for various causes. Unlike you, my dear, I cannot take to the skies to get places faster.”

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