“You,” Marci coughed back a laugh, “poor dear. Let me clean you off.”

It’s always nice to know that morbid embarrassment follows me wherever I go.

During a timeout, Bo skated over to the sideline where Blayne was waiting.

“Where did all that blood come from?” he asked.

She glared at him, but didn’t answer. Since she seemed relatively unharmed, he didn’t worry about it.

“Game’s going pretty well, huh?”

“Sure.”

She didn’t sound sure. “What? Say it.”

“It’s just a suggestion, but maybe you could . . .”

“Could what?”

“Let someone else get a goal.”

“Why would I do that?”

She rubbed her forehead with both hands. “Because it’ll be very cool to do and you have absolutely nothing to lose?”

“Except my puck.”

Her hands turned into fists, and he thought she might try pummeling him, but she looked off, took a breath, and tried again. “Only a truly confident man—”

“Is willing to be a loser?”

That time she did swing, hitting his arm and chest with those tiny wolfdog fists. And his laughing—not helping.

The truth was Bo had never willingly allowed anyone to get his puck, but Blayne did have a point. He had nothing to lose. But there was a bigger issue here.

“Will it make you happy if I do this?” he asked.

“Yes,” she hissed, frustrated. “It would make me happy.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

Blayne blinked, her fists unfisting. “Just like that?”

“Yep. I like making you happy.”

Her grin—worth any going-against-his-personal-beliefs moment this would cause.

“But don’t try this during an actual game where I’m getting paid millions of dollars to win,” he added, so boundaries were clear.

She laughed, heading back to her seat. “Like I care what you do at that dog and pony show at the stadium.”

Nope. He didn’t get her at all, but man did he like her.

Blayne returned to her seat, Marci watching her close.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“Just a little conversation. Nothing to worry yourself about.”

“Seems to me like you two are getting serious.”

“Getting serious about what?”

The sow dismissed her with a hand wave. “Forget I asked.”

“I will.” Kerry-Ann, who’d shown up once the game had started, held out a bag of popcorn for Blayne.

“This is going so well, isn’t it?”

“You were supposed to give me more time,” Blayne reminded her around a mouthful of popcorn.

“I had complete faith in your skills, Blayne Thorpe.”

“Uh-huh.” Just for that Blayne took another handful of popcorn. “I have a question.”

“And what’s that, dear?”

“All the stray dogs I keep finding. Where are they coming from?”

Both Kerry-Ann and Marci shrugged.

“Don’t know,” Kerry-Ann admitted. “We find ’em all the time. Figure they’ve been coming from one of the full-human towns. A few of the store owners wanted us to get a team together to hunt them down and . . . uh . . .” She studied Blayne a moment before finishing with, “Take them somewhere they could live forever in happy fields.”

Even if Marci hadn’t spit out her Sprite, Blayne didn’t buy that for a second.

“Contrary to popular belief, Kerry-Ann, dogs aren’t stupid. We know when we’re going to the vet.”

“Well, we didn’t do it, did we?” Kerry-Ann snapped. “It was just a suggestion anyway.”

“Uh-huh.” Blayne took more popcorn, now feeling fully entitled to the entire bag. “And what about the farmhouse?”

“What farmhouse?”

“The one near the beach. You have to get through Antarctic Minor to get to it.”

Marci chuckled. “She’s talking about the old Benson place, Kerry-Ann.”

“Gosh. No one’s lived there for years. Can’t get to it anyway from here because of the storms.”

“What are those anyway?”

“They’re the reason we don’t have any more covens running around Ursus County,” Marci murmured.

“They wanted to make the polars comfortable by making certain parts of the area cold year-round. Needless to say, that went badly.”

“Even the polars don’t feel like going through that freezing weather. It’s hell on their coats.”

“And the Bensons died without a cub of their own, so that house goes untended.”

“But it’s a beach property, right? You could sell that, couldn’t you?”

“To who? Full-humans? Remember, Blayne, they don’t know we’re here and we plan to keep it that way.”

“Well those dogs have to be coming from somewhere, and it needs to stop.”

“I have a few friends in the Humane Society who could look into it,” Marci told her. “I’ll call them and ask.”

Blayne pressed her shoulder into Marci’s. “Thank you. Dr. Luntz.”

“Oh, stop your foolishness, Blayne Thorpe. And duck.”

“What—”

The puck slammed into her head, sending Blayne flipping into the lap of Marci’s daughter.