Page 65 of Blood on the Ice

That means it would be his first move, and Kas is a consummate strategist. “No. They’re all busy working things at the station. Perhaps you could drop me there to lend my considerable influence to their cause and then double back to do your own thing with the campus security idiots?”

His toothy grin tells me everything I need to know. My old friend will terrify them until they give up the person or persons who allowed the detective to enter campus without being cleared through administration. Kas simply does not fail… ever… no matter what he thinks about his ex. “If you can catch a ride back with the others, your command is my pleasure, Liam.”

“Thank you,” I murmur as I sit the phone down. “Let’s get ourselves presentable, then we’ll head to the cop shop.” He snorts and I shrug. “If I’m coming as the Prince and you as my guard, we can’t show up in grimy sweats without shirts, Kaspar.”

“You’re the Prince even if you’re wearing a goddamn trash bag. I don’t know why you worry so much about appearances.” His rejoinder is common, and I chuckle while we make our way upstairs. “It’s appeasing your father, and we both knowthat’sa losing bet.”

“Yes, yes.” I pause at his door, giving him a rueful look. “I’m well aware of how much I disappoint him, just like you know that your own father is more loyal to the King than his family.”

“Low blow, Li. Low blow.” He winks and ducks into his room, shutting the door behind him with a click.

Kaspar is my closest confidant and oldest friend—something Angeline could have destroyed if we hadn’t been as bonded as we are. Instead of ripping us apart, it drew us even closer and made him tighten our circle to almost nothing until I started classes on this side of the Veil. I still believe he convinced his father and, by proxy, mine, to allow it because it would keep us away from the intrigue and betrayals that happen so often at court.

But that doesn’t matter now because I believe I may have found the center of our bond.

“And she comes with other powerful, non-objectionable mates who would compliment us,” I murmur to myself in satisfaction. Heading into my room, I smile as I make quick work of pulling out a pair of slacks and an oxford. I want to project the image I know will sway local yokels, but not be so formal it’s questioned.

My mother always taught me clothes can make the man and define the world around him—something Kas has never believed. Regardless, he’ll toe the line and outfit himself similarly because even if he doesn’t subscribe to our theories, he’ll support me without question. Once I’m clothed, I go intothe bathroom and fix the traditional braids and hair people would expect, then freshen up. The last thing I need to do is the most irritating because I avoid adorning myself with the required elements of my heritage here—but the Prince won’t make an impression without the everyday imprint of his crown.

Fucking Earth dwellers and their silly ideas of Fae royalty.

With a sigh, I go back into my room and pull the ancient bejeweled chain that forms a loosely shaped crown over my forehead from its home in the safe. I have much more formal ones stored in more secure places, but this will work for today’s excursion. Kaspar walks in as I’m fiddling with the clasp in the back and rolls his eyes, pushing my hands away to help.

“You wear your inheritance so little that you’re hopeless with it, Prince.”

I snort as he futzes with it, making sure it’s settled correctly with my hair curling around it and the braids draped just right. “That’s because I hate it and you know it. Are you ready to go?”

He grins. “I’m ready to ditch you and do some dirty work.”

Good enough for me.

When we arriveat the police station, there’s a mob of reporters in front. Kaspar growls in annoyance, steering around them to take us away from the gaggle. I can flex my muscles inside, but if I want to avoid a call from the King, I shouldn’t beseen in the tabloid photos as I walk in. Once we find a back entrance, he has to negotiate with a low-level cop who must be tasked with keeping reporters away. Once the green rookie saw my crown, he moved so fast he might as well have left tracks behind.

“Even the supe cops in this world are idiots. He had zero proof you didn’t buy some replica online—I would refuse to leave you here if I wasn’t aware The Shark’s team is inside. His people seemed reasonably competent, so I’ll indulge you, Li.”

I roll my eyes. He could refuse all he wanted, but if I truly wanted to elude him, my magic would trump him every time. I simply prefer not to use it for frivolous shit like giving him the middle finger for being over-protective. “I appreciate your largesse, old friend.”

The car comes to a stop, and he gets out, checking the area before he opens my door. Though I believe it unnecessary, he flanks me as we walk up a set of short stairs and ring the buzzer on the door. It opens slowly, and another young officer squints at us.

“You the Fae Prince?”

Charming.

“I am Prince Liam, yes.”

He sighs heavily, nodding as he holds an arm out. “This way. Your friends are in interrogation or watching it. I’m supposed to bring you there.”

My smile is friendly, but the tone I used is full of authority. “That doesn’t work for me. You may take me directly to your Chief and once we speak, then I will allow you to escort me to our group.”

Kaspar snorts as the kid babbles about his duty, then finally cuts in, “I am leaving the heir to the Daybreak Court, Prince Liam Spéirgheal, in your care, Officer. Every thing you do will be reported to King Spéirgheal, do you understand?”

The poor guy’s face turns white as a sheet, and he gulps. “Yes, sir. Right. I’ll take you to the Chief right away, Your Highness.”

Giving Kas an irritated look, I wave him off. Now this kid will be clammed up as hell and everyone in the building will play along with the ‘royal asshole coming through’ schtick. I was hoping to leave that until it was completely necessary, but now that’s not an option. Playing the role of my father’s son chafes and I hate it… but I’ll do it for Morgana and the young bear.

“Your station is very small for a bigger city,” I comment casually. It’s a backhanded slight and I know the cop feels it when his shoulders scrunch a bit, then he forces them down. “I expected a much more robust investigative team for such a high brow case. Perhaps I should contact my friends in Sibbies to take over…”

“Those guys will fall all over themselves to accommodate a famous kid, right?” His voice is full of resentment and I can almost feel the bitterness in the air. Competition like this explains why the solve rate for most murders is as low as it is—even supernatural agencies refuse to work together. “Justice shouldn’t have a price tag.”

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