Page 53 of Blood on the Ice

“I. Do. Not. Cry,” I snarl through gritted teeth. Des weaves a path by my ear, hissing as the dragon passes me. She wants to sink her fangs into him, even just fractionally, to teach him a ‘hard’ lesson. I won’t let her, although turning one of his hands or arms to stone for a couple hours would be amusing as hell.

Biting off my nose to spite my face isn’t one of my signature moves.

“All females leak when they’re emotional,” he retorts as he drops the boxes at the end of the bed. “It’s the way of nature.”

“Gorgons don’t,” Slade offers. “I don’t know about gargoyles. Iggy?”

The professor looks up, smirking a little. “Their tears are quite sought after for spell work. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt, Morgana, but I would collect some for later.”

“Gee, thanks. Glad my pain might help you hex some chick who pissed you off.”

Iggy strides over, putting his hands on my shoulders as he looks into my eyes. “Don’t take me wrong. I’d be furious about it, but I am very practical. I would gatheranytool I thought would help me keep those I care about safe. Gargoyle tears are known for vast healing properties since they are so uncommon.”

“Oh.”

I fight the urge to duck my head; instead, I give him a knowing expression. “Let’s get this shit done, boys. I find myself eager to have a sleeping space that isn’t a fucking couch all the sudden.”

“You and me both, cupcake,” Iggy says with a wink, heading to help Lucas with the curtains.

Damn. Down, girl.

discoveries

Ending the call, I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. The others are still in the bedroom helping the Prince’s new ‘project’ clean out the remnants of a foul member of my species. I don’t like or trust the woman, but she doesn’t seem like someone who deserves the filth I scented when I walked in there. I know the Society put her through hell fortaking her vengeance, but I think if they figured out what we did within five seconds of being in place, they might have let her go with a slap on the wrist.

Magnus was a depraved, perverted motherfucker who obviously didn’t give a single fuck about the woman he asked to marry him.

I stepped out briefly to take a call from one of the commanders at the Palace. We check in frequently when situations evolve and though I often leave out major details about the Prince’s life for all of our sanity, they also keep me apprised of what’s going on in the Daybreak Court while we’re on this side of the Veil—especially when the information is as juicy as what Lorcan just shared with me.

A group of supes from a small town an hour from here entered our lands a few days ago, claiming to be on a vacation. That isn’t anything new, but they were accompanied by an unemerged supe, several alumnae of this college, and the son of a senator from this state. The Prince’s family did what they always do… send in the other princes and the king to feel out the honored guests. Lorcan said one of the tailors messed with a pair of be-spelled glasses she was wearing and that’s when I lost my temper.

A scandal with the Society would cause Liam to be called home and he would have that mischievous shit’s head.

I told Lorcan to find Fiannula and deal with the designer, then have the head of the royal guard call me. We need to figure out exactly how much trouble this idiot may have caused by skirting around the rules of the treaties. He said their party left for the Harvest Court this morning, so it’s possible I can contact one ofthe folks there to salvage things. I’m not surehow, of course, because we don’t even know if her little trick worked.

“Sweet Aed, help me untangle this before a dumbass tailor causes a fuckingwarwith those tight assed supes,” I mutter as I head back into the former dragon’s den of smut.

“What’s going on, Kas? You look stressed,” Liam says as he cocks his head at me.

Shaking my head back in response, I lift a chest that stinks to high hell and back. “This thing needs togo, and I advise the professor to follow me downstairs to figure out what he kept inside of it.”

Morgana looks at me in horror as I heft the enormous thing up and turn towards the door. “That’s… person… sized.”

Fuck yes, it is, and it goddamn smells like it, too.

I could say that and send her running for the bathroom to cry, but I shrug. “Might be. There’s magic, though, so I need the prof.”

Liam catches my hesitation and grins. That motherfucker knows I chose not to be a dick to the woman, and he thinks it means I’m softening. I’m not, but as I said before, I don’thaveto be needlessly cruel. I am often hesitant to get involved in such a volatile situation. Adding in the shenanigans of our relatives in Faerie means I’d prefer not to draw the scrutiny of anyone the Society has their eyes on.

“I’m coming, Kaspar,” Ignatius says as he stands and dusts off his pants. He was digging underneath the vast bed before we move it, making certain it wouldn’t uncover anything untoward.

I doubt we’re going to hide much from a woman as smart as Morgana, especially since we’re ridding the house of shit belonging to someone as depraved as Magnus. But that’s not my job to work out—the rest of these assholes can handle telling her what all the shit we find means. I’m good at lifting and carrying the heaviest shit out, not comforting some aggrieved ex-fiancé.

The bespectacled academic follows me out the door quietly, and until we get to the steps, he doesn’t say a word.

“That chest is trouble, right?”

My answer is a snort. “You could say that.”

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