Page 170 of Dukes of Peril

“It could have been an assassination attempt.” Nick sighs, but puts the gun into Sy’s palm. Like we don’t all know there’s a knife in his boot.

“Sorry, dude.” The thrower, a guy wearing a stocking cap with the Greek letters LDZ across the front, shrugs, before bending over to grab another handful of snow. “My bad.”

“This isa lot,” Sy finishes, glaring at the kid who almost hit him across the Lords’ backyard. It’s been transformed into some kind of magical winter wonderland.

“Tucker!” Dimitri Rathbone appears out of the crowd. “Stop being a fuckhead.”

Tucker drops the snow, which scatters at his feet. “Yes, sir.”

“Go get our guests a drink.”

“On it.” Tucker runs off without a glance backward, rushing to the bar across the yard. Ducking into my scarf, I notice a lot of LDZs are much like Tucker. Drunk, happy, and playful.

“This is fucking elaborate.” Remy’s eyes are a vivid green, taking in everything. He loves seeing something new and different, and a snowy, glowing patch of South Side is definitely different. “Can you really sled down that?” he asks, jerking his chin toward the hill in the distance.

Rath follows his gaze. “Yeah, it’s fun as hell, especially if you’re going down it with your girl. It’s engineered to make you feel like you’re falling right off a cliff.”

Remy and I share a look. “Ugh, maybe later.”

“Lav!” Story’s happy, inebriated voice rings out. A moment later, she has me in a tight, crushing hug. “I’m so glad you and your guys could make it!”

I embrace her back with a laugh, her enthusiasm infectious. “Me, too.”

It’s not completely unheard of for the frats to invite the leadership to each other's events. We all go to the Baron’s equinox celebration, and all the house girls compete in Screw Year’s Eve. I suppose, if things stay peaceful, we’ll get an invite to the Prince’s Valentine’s party. But when it comes to the Counts…

How wrong is it to make a barbecue joke right now?

Killian and Tristian walk up behind her and the two Kings share a nod.

“This might sound really inappropriate,” Tristian starts.

“Then don’t say it,” Killian says, eyes narrowed.

He does, anyway. “That explosion was better than a wet dream.” KIllian shakes his head while Rath actually slams his fist into his shoulder. Tristan grasps his arm, glowering. “Jesus! What? I’m just congratulating the Dukes for a job well done.”

“Yeah,” Killian says, eyeing Tucker and another LDZ who return carrying a drink for each of us. “You’re lucky things went well–since you’re the asshole that programmed the phone in the first place.”

“You know how it is,” Tristian winks. “Things have a way of working out for me.”

Story grabs one of the drinks, a mug of something warm and chocolatey with whipped cream on top, and hands it to me. She then links her arm with mine, and says, “Why don’t you guys go try out some of the activities? Lav and I need quality girl time. No boys allowed.”

Nick studies the two of us, his arms crossing over his chest. “I don’t know.”

Is he worried about the two of us getting close? Probably, considering the way we ganged up on him a few months back. I can admit it’s weird, but I can also accept that I need a friend. The cutsluts are great, but I really need someone who understands this life. “Nick, it’s fine. Go.”

He doesn’t relent without staring Story down for a good second. “Okay, but Screw Year’s Eve is in less than a week and she’s the reigning champion. This better not be some kind of sabotage.”

I look at Sy for help and he rolls his eyes, clapping his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Come on, little brother. Is that curling over there? You’ll love it. It takes almost no upper body strength to push a rock.”

Nick turns to him, and–

Oh no.

I know that spark of intensity in his eyes. “Bet I’d be better than you.”

Sy might be the leader, but he’s still a Duke, and the hunger for competition–the chance to win–still breaks through. “You’re on.”

Leaning over, Nick plants a warm kiss on my cold cheek before walking off with the others.

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