Page 107 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

The JumboTron keeps cutting between shots. First, it was my mate's bleeding face. Then him mauling Wade, and Valek finishing Wade with a stomp to Wade's knee that split the armor and spilled blood all over the ice.

Then Wade's crumpled body loaded onto a stretcher, his face slack with shock and pain, the confident golden-boy mask completely shattered.

And then… my mate, again.

Standing alone on the ice like the last survivor of an apocalypse, his massive frame heaving with each breath, eyes flat and gray except for the lingering feral light flashing blue behind one pupil.

Blood—his and Wade's, now—coats his entire lower face, dripping from his jaw, splattering the ice at his skates. His hand hovers near his face, fingers twitching, reaching for a mask that isn't there.

Around me, the crowd is still losing its mind.

A guy three seats down is laughing, actually laughing, while his girlfriend shrieks at him to stop. Kids are crying and screaming.

The sound tears at my already raw nerves.

"Holy shit, did you get that on video?"

"This is the best fuckin' game I've ever been to!"

"He should be put down!"

I'm on my feet before I consciously decide to move.

Security is swarming the ice now, escorting players toward the tunnels. My phone buzzes against my thigh and I yank it from my pocket, expecting Whiskey or maybe Thane…

Unknown number.

UNKNOWN

You don't need to hide anymore.

Come down.

I'll get you to your mate.

- V

My fingers fly across the screen even as I'm shoving past the couple blocking my row.

IVY

Is this Valek? How the fuck did you get my number?

UNKNOWN

Yes

Whiskey doesn't have a passcode on his phone. You should fix that.

Tunnel where we last met.

Two minutes.

Two minutes.

I can do that.

The crowd is chaos incarnate. Fans streaming toward exits, others frozen in their seats, some still staring at the JumboTron like they can't look away from the carnage.