Blades of Glory (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 4)

As everyone gets into position, I skate back to Jensen, tapping his pad. “Glad you guys could come. We’ve missed you. It’s great seeing Wren and the kids.”

We both look to where his wife, Wren, their son, Gunner, and daughter, Carley, sit. But then all I see is Tate’s son. Just like his dad, he’s huge, looking like an ice king with blond hair and blue eyes. He took completely after Tate, has idolized his dad his whole life. He is sitting behind the goal, leaning on his legs, waiting for his dad to hit the ice. I bet he doesn’t remember seeing his dad play since he was so young. Man, what an amazing moment it’s going to be to see the great Odder hit the ice again. I just hope he doesn’t throw anything out trying to keep his nephew from scoring.

“Yeah, moving to Canada has been a huge change for everyone, but we’re adjusting. I’m just glad they came back here with me.”

“They wouldn’t miss seeing their dad play again.” I smile as he stretches to the right. “But how is Canada? You like it?”

“I do. It’s home. Carley hates it, but Gunner is thriving in the hockey world. He loves it.”

“That’s awesome, man,” I say, tapping my stick to his pad once more. “Elli told me that a little birdie told her you guys were looking at maybe trying again?”

He beams. “We’re pregnant. We just found out that the itty-bitty amount of sperm I was able to make made the journey!”

Shit, maybe we should go to the YMCA. We should be talking about how we’re going to kill these guys, not how Jensen’s sperm finally made a baby. He’s a killer goalie, but his sperm is weak, unfortunately.

Again, not something that should matter right now.

He grins at me through his mask as I set up opposite Alex. This is insane. It feels like it’s been centuries since we’ve shared that “let’s do this” look, but at the same time, it feels like only yesterday. There wasn’t a moment in my young career when Alex didn’t mentor me. He has always been my best friend, even from afar, off in Canada, doing emu farm things or whatever is it. Goats? I don’t know, don’t care, because we belong on the ice.

Together.

Alex nods to me as I do the same to him before moving my gaze to where Aiden and Lucas have lined up for the puck.

“When I school you, don’t be embarrassed, okay?” Aiden asks as Boon and their buddy McMillan all snicker like little boys.

“Aiden James, remember this moment when I tell you how proud I am to be your father—but also when I knock you into next month.”

They both grin at each other, and I lean on my stick, waiting for the puck to drop. When it does, the crowd roars when Lucas wins it over his son.

“I let you do that!”

“Is that what you tell Shelli when she schools you?” Lucas asks as he sends it to Vaughn, who starts to carry it up the ice. He’s slower than he used to be, but that doesn’t stop him from weaving in and around the players who respect him. For the longest time, Vaughn held the record for the highest goals on our team, but then Aiden Brooks came along, and well…Vaughn doesn’t anymore. Vaughn shoots hard on Peca, the Assassins’ goalie, but like the ninja he is, he bats it away. Lucas rushes for the puck just as Aiden and Boon do. I see it happening before it does, so I speed toward the situation to save my friend. Aiden squishes him into the boards, and Boon helps, fighting for the puck. The hit wasn’t as hard as it could have been, but I’m sure he’ll be feeling it tomorrow. Lucas gets the puck out somehow, sending it to me, and I whip my stick back, leaning my whole body into it before I release hard like I used to.

And just like how I used to do it, I completely miss the net, and it hits the glass hard.

I cringe, already hearing Elli’s mouth before Lucas gets the puck and sends it over to Titov. I stand at the point, but when Erik tries to pass it, it’s sloppy and slow. Within seconds, Boon has it, and he’s hauling ass down the ice. Not while I’m on the ice, though. I put on the jet engines—which some may say are clogged with dead birds and other crap and is why I’m slower than before. I get to him, though, lifting his stick with mine. He throws his shoulder into mine, trying to push me away, but that’s not happening. I lean down, getting real deep, and throw my shoulder hard into Boon’s. Not only do I knock him off the play, but he flies a solid two feet over the ice before hitting the rink.