I didn’t remember the drive home. Didn’t remember anything except stripping off my clothes and flopping onto my bed with a groan.

I woke to my phone pinging. Message from Coach.

My office Ten.

He had copied Hazard and Graves.

I blinked at the time: nine a.m.

Okay then. We had about an hour to get to the arena. I showered, then read the fine print on Dead Man picks. If things were going to go my way, I needed to know how and when I was supposed to volunteer to replace Random.

The little note propped up by the coffee carafe was Dad’s artsy handwriting. Gone to Work. Coffee’s hot. Plates in the fridge. He’d drawn a little cup of coffee with skull and bones in the steam.

I grinned, grabbed the plates—one of eggs, one of turkey sausage—and got those reheating in the microwave.

Then I went looking for my stray brother.

He was standing on the back porch, in the same sweats he’d been in last night, staring at the horizon. Barefoot, his hair a mess like he’d given it the four pillow rub down.

He was also using magic.

I almost didn’t notice at first, too focused on finding him. He was my responsibility, I’d known that from the first day I’d brought him home and promised Dad he wouldn’t get into any trouble and that I’d make sure he was okay.

I’d been seven at the time, so Dad had seen right though my promises. He’d known no kid had the skills to actually take care of another kid like a lost puppy.

No matter how much I loved my dad and thought he was an amazing human being, he had gravely underestimated my words that day.

I’d meant it. Hazard was my brother and my responsibility until the day I died. Because if it came down to death, I’d go first, putting my life on the line for his.

I was made that way. It was the wolf in me.

Dad might not have understood, but Mom did. Which was kind of funny because she usually powered through heart-to-hearts and other nurturing things as quickly and efficiently as possible. But that day, she’d taken me in her arms and made me promise that I wouldn’t try to take care of Hazard all on my own. That I’d let her and Dad be his parents, and I could be his brother.

I’d agreed, shoulders slumping with relief, because looking after a little guy who was only a tiny bit littler than me was a huge weight I’d been trying to carry. And I hadn’t been sure I would be any good at it.

The kid in me had loved her for letting me know we were in this together. The wolf in me had finally felt right, settled, home.

Having a sibling meant that much to me.

But this wizard thing he had going? That was new for both of us. When he was happy, he sometimes made something amazing and fun happen. Like bouncy balls falling out of the sky. He’d once, very carefully, wizarded up a small ice rink here in the back yard just to see if it would be real enough, we could skate on it.

It had been real enough.

He didn’t do big things very often. I think he was still spooked about not knowing his limits. There was that storm in the middle of his bedroom with razor-sharp lightning bolts.

That time when he woke up screaming and the wall caught on fire.

The moment his frustration with me got so bad, he pushed me over without ever laying a hand on me.

So I could understand why he tried to only use magic at his classes where he was learning to control it.

But when he slipped up and sometimes used it out on the ice? Well, that was when I loved him using magic the most.

Because he used it angrily. And an angry Hazard was a sight to behold.

Today’s show was subtle. It was the yard. Winter meant all Dad’s beloved roses were straggly prickle bushes. They wouldn’t bloom until May, and until then, roses just didn’t have a lot going for them.

Hazard had made them bloom. Full, heavy flowers open to the sun surrounded the yard. The sweet scent of rose and mint filled the air and I breathed deeply, suddenly hungry for spring.

The grass was greener, and Mom’s favorite One Republic song, “Made for You,” played through the windows, even though she wasn’t home. I heard voices, too. Mom, Dad, and me trying to outsing each other on the chorus, laughing, joking.

And there was a little kid, just a little guy, standing in the middle of the yard staring back at Hazard with those too-serious eyes in that young, pale face.

Little Hazard.

He didn’t look how I remembered him, too small and way too sad. Just as I was thinking that, the sadness quickly shifted into fury.

Yeah, I agreed with little Hazard. This was something to get angry about.

“You don’t have to say good-bye to us,” I said as I stood next to him, staring at his bitty, angry self. “We’re your family, Random. No matter what happens.”

He nodded and little Random nodded too. It was creepy. I loved it.

“They picked me, Duncan,” he said, little Random mouthing the words, but not actually speaking. “The T-Tide. I’m the Dead Man.”

“I know.”

Both Randoms looked at me. “You know?”

“Do I look that stupid to you? Don’t answer that. Of course I know.”

He nodded and went back to staring at his sad, sad childhood.

“He needs a ball,” I said.

Random flicked his fingers and a ball appeared in the little guy’s hand.

“He needs a Duncan.”

Hazard tipped his head to one side. “I’m not…hang on.” His face creased with concentration as if he were trying to find an image of me from some dusty folder stored in his brain.

His face went smooth again and he inhaled, exhaled, and right there next to Random was a little Duncan.

“What the shit, man?” I laughed. “I did not look like that!”

Little Duncan had stubby legs and no knees and his reddish-brown hair was a wild tangle with wolf ears poking out of it. His nose was too wide, and he had a tail. Which he was wagging as he stared at the ball in little Random’s hands like it was the last steak on the continent.

“I’m the wizard here, Dunc. I know what you looked like as a kid.”

I shoved his shoulder. He let out an “oof,” and grinned. “Aw…” he said. “Look at how ugly you were.”

Little half-wolf me ran around on those stubby legs, chasing Random who was holding out the ball. Then little Random hid the ball behind his back, and wolfy-Duncan got a ridiculous confused look.

I burst out laughing. “You are hilarious. I never fell for that trick.”

“Yeah, you did.” Little Random repeated the same trick, and little Duncan turned a circle staring at the sky, like the ball would fall out of the air.

I bumped into his shoulder again. “You suck.”

“Naw…I remember this day very clearly. Poor little wolf. Such a tiny brain.”

“This day never happened, jerk. And if it had, you know what I would have done.”

Random’s grin was wide. “This?”

Little Duncan lifted his lip in a tiny puppy snarl and with a watery baby howl, he launched himself at little Random. They fell to the grass in a tangle, little Random getting the upper hand a lot faster than I ever remembered.

“No! No way!” I yelled. “You did not know that take-down move until last week.”

He shrugged. “I know it now.”

There was no way I was giving up on this fight. “Get him, little Dunc! Get that ball!”

Little Dunc rallied and wriggled out of Random’s hold by biting down on his arm and not letting go. Little Random apparently felt no pain, because he just pulled his arm away and brushed it off like little Dunc’s teeth weren’t even sharp enough to break skin.

Which—not.

Little Random chucked the ball and little Dunc’s ears perked up as he tracked its flight.

Then little Dunc took off running—on all fours.

I laughed. Little Dunc tackled the ball but hit it wrong so he high-centered and flipped over it, somersaulting into the roses.

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Okay, that’s just dumb.”

Hazard wasn’t watching little Dunc, he was watching me. “Naw. It’s perfect.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dude, you do not get to stand there mooning over me like this is the last time you’re gonna see me laugh.”

“I wasn’t doing that.”

He was totally doing that.

“Did you even check your phone this morning?” I asked.

“No.”

I held mine out to him. He read the text. “Why did he text you? Why did he text Graves?”

“Go put on a shirt and eat breakfast or something. I’ll tell you on the way.”

I did not tell him on the way. I just gave him hell about that magic scene he’d dreamed up and poked a bit of fun at him being such a sad, lonely boy who, at the worst, was only going to be a few hours’ drive away from home.

I didn’t tell him that I would be the one moving.

I didn’t tell him I wasn’t going to let Graves throw himself on this bomb because it was my place to look after Random. My place to be his brother.

By the time we were walking down the hall to Coach’s office, Hazard was exasperated with me, totally annoyed, but he was not giving off stress waves so strong it made my nose sting and my teeth grind.

I bounded down the hall ahead of him, smacking the back of his head as I passed, then calmed and took the last few steps to Coach’s door. I ran my palm over my hair and straightened my hoodie.

Random just shoved his fists into his pockets and shook his head at me.

“Come in.”

Coach Clay sat behind his desk, one of those little red-hooded rock statues he collected in his hand. He turned it over and over through his long fingers.

Graves leaned against the wall, arms crossed like he’d just been in the middle of an argument he wasn’t done losing.

“Hey, Coach,” I said. “Hey, Gravedigger.”

“Duncan, Random,” Coach said. “Take a seat.”

I took the closest to the door so Random had to sort of shove his way past me, or climb over my feet to get to the other chair.

He leveled me a glare, then took the time to step squarely and hard—ouch—on my foot.

Jerk.

“You wanted to see us, Coach?” Random asked while I resisted the urge to kick him in the ankle.

“I did.” Coach set the little rock dude down next to three more rock dudes.

“Random, this isn’t the way I would usually handle things, but I decided we should all put our heads together and make some decisions. No matter which way we go with this, it is going to affect the team. This is about the Tide picking you as Dead Man.”

Random nodded woodenly.

Graves low drawl filled the room. “This is about me taking your place.”

Random’s whole body twisted toward him. “You can’t do that.”

I was glad to hear he agreed with me. He wasn’t going let Graves take the fall for him.

“I can do just that,” Graves said. “And I’m going to.” His gaze flicked up to me. Yeah, I heard him.

Bite me, buddy.

“How?” Random asked. “They pick one guy. One guy. Me.” He redirected his question to Coach. “How?”

“There is a clause that allows one replacement. It must be entirely volunteered and must be a replacement who is equal in value.”

“What value?” Random asked. “Graves and I don’t even play the same position. Plus he’s a lot better than I am. More experienced. He has a proven track record, I don’t even have a season in the league yet.”

Yep. My brother. Never saw his own value, always saw the value in others. Was it any wonder he needed someone like me to keep him from doing stupid things?

“I’m not sure that’s how they’re going to see it,” Coach said.

“They want me because I’m a wizard,” Random said. “They’re not going to accept Graves as a substitute. Unless there is some other reason they picked me?”

“What kind of reason?” Coach did a stellar job of not letting Random see how hard those words hit him. Breath even, expression calm, hands resting easily on his desk.

But the animal in him was pushing. I could feel it in the way only a wolf can sense a cat. A very angry cat.

“Something…personal?” Random said. “In the past? Coach Nowak…I know I didn’t tell you about all of his threats when they happened…”

“No, you did not. We talked about that. Is there something else you’re not telling me?”

The cat was ready to attack. His anger made my mouth water, and I had to push my wolf away.

“No,” Random said, “Nothing. If anything happens, you’ll know.”

“Immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Coach grunted.

“I think there are better players Coach Nowak could have picked if he wanted to improve his chance for the Cup,” Random said. “I think he picked me just to mess with our team.”

Left unspoken was that Nowak wanted to mess with our team because he wanted to mess with Coach Clay.

“Trades are a part of the industry,” Coach said. “Part of the game. You’ll have to get used to that. The harder and better you play, the more people will notice. And when they notice, they’ll be gunning for you. On the ice. Off the ice. In trades and negotiation.”

“So this isn’t some kind of…revenge?”

Clay rocked back in his chair, folding his hands together. His knuckles were white. He was furious. Not about the conversation. He was furious Nowak was sniping Hazard to make Clay suffer.

“I don’t know what Nowak is thinking, but he made this move very purposely. I do think he wants you. I do think he wants the Thunderheads to falter. He wants to win.”

Oh, there was so much more he wasn’t saying. Things that his elevated heartbeat and heavy scent of rage expressed.

“I don’t think Graves should take my place.”

“You don’t get a say in it,” Graves said. “I volunteer, and it’s a done deal.”

Random opened his mouth, but it was time for me to set this straight.

“That’s not going to happen,” I said. “If Graves tries to take Random’s place Nowak’s going to fight it. Graves isn’t close enough to Random’s skill level to be a one-to-one trade. I looked up the rules. If a team asks for a centerman, they’ll want a centerman. Defense can’t be a substitute. A wingman can under certain conditions.

“One of those conditions is if the player has an equal record. Haz and I are just about tied in points and goals. I played Center for several teams in the juniors. So I know how to handle that position.

“Graves doesn’t. The other condition of a volunteer sub is they must be of a similar age. Haz and I are almost the same age. The last condition is that they have to be of similar mark. So a sensitive for a sensitive, a human for a human, a wolf for a wolf.

“I don’t know what you are, Graves, but you are not a wolf.”

Everyone in the room paused. Clay’s gaze fastened on Graves. Coach wasn’t surprised at my announcement. He was waiting to see what Graves was going to do about it.

Random was surprised, but he didn’t say anything.

Graves just looked really annoyed at me. I grinned.

He inhaled, his arms rising on his thick muscled chest. “You’re full of shit, Spark.”

“Sure,” I agreed. “But I know a wolf when I see one. And yeah, sometimes you give off wolf vibes. Okay, most of the time. But sometimes…you aren’t a wolf. At all.”

That was the definition of being rude. You never just asked someone flat to their face what kind of shifter they were. It was supposed to be information willingly offered.

“Oh, I’m a wolf,” Graves said. “Want to see my teeth, pup?”

Random snicked in a hard breath.

The wolf in me yearned for this. Finally. Finally. To stand up. To prove. To be…something. Something I wanted. Something I needed to be. I shivered as the wolf strained against my hold.

“Bring it on, old man.”

“No shifts.” Coach Clay slammed both hands on the desk. Not loud, but enough to break the staring contest Graves and I were about to elevate.

“Here’s why you should let me volunteer,” I said, still not looking away from Graves’s dust colored eyes. “I am his brother. Brother means something more to wolves. I love this team, but I love that jerk a hell of a lot more than all of you together. If he goes, you’ll lose me as a player, because I will follow him. Even if they don’t put me on the team.”

Random made an angry sound but shut up at the pointed look Coach gave him.

Graves lifted his eyes heavenward like he was asking some god up there to give him patience.

“For fuck’s sake, Spark,” Coach said when I finally looked at him. “You can’t follow Hazard everywhere he goes in this league.”

“That team wants him dead. If he were traded to the Brass or the Brimstones today, I’d miss him, but I wouldn’t try to get picked up by them.”

“As if I can’t take care of myself,” Random snarled. “You always think I’m just going to fold when things get tough. You’re wrong, Duncan. I am so much stronger than you realize.”

“Tell me Coach Nowak won’t try to destroy your career,” I countered.

Random pressed his lips together. “All right. Sure. I think he hates me. I think that’s the reason he picked me instead of a better player. I think he wants to make it hard—damn hard—for me to succeed. So what? I’ll put my head down and play my game. Fuck him. Like I’d let a coach tell me who I was and what I could be.”

He blinked, realized where we were and then shot over his shoulder: “Sorry, Coach.”

“Noted,” Coach said.

“Look at me.” I bent my head a little so I could look my brother straight in the eyes. “I am not going to change my mind. I can’t let you play on that team. I will break your legs before I let this deal go through.”

I was three thousand percent sincere about that, and he knew it.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

Graves sighed. “Easy, Spark. We don’t need to resort to fratricide.”

“The player has to be similar to me,” Random said. “You’re a wolf, dumbass. I’m not.”

“There aren’t any other wizards in the whole league to match you with. In every other way, I fit. Am I wrong Coach?”

“Is he wrong, Graves?” Coach asked.

“In the head, maybe,” Graves said. “But no, not about the fit. Just because there isn’t another wizard to match Hazard, doesn’t mean you’re going to volunteer, kid.”

“There’s only one shot at this.” It was time for me to put all my cards on the table. Including my ace in the hole. “We can’t offer them two volunteers. Only one player can stand up and Katniss this bitch.

“We have to choose the player Nowak will have the least amount of valid arguments against. If we give him any room, he’ll find a way to overthrow the volunteer and take Hazard. If I can argue that Graves isn’t a good fit, so will he. We need to take a chance at our best bet. And I am that best bet.”

Coach Clay tapped the pad of his finger on the edge of the desk, thinking. Graves stared at something up near the ceiling, either wishing he weren’t a part of this conversation or wishing I weren’t.

Probably the second thing.

Random stood. His shoulders were tipped, his chin up, gaze level like he was in the middle of a breakaway down the ice and pushing hard for the net.

“No one volunteers in my place,” he said. “I’m not a child. I’m not delicate. I’m not afraid. I won’t break. Tell the Tide I’ll be there Monday like they asked.”

Then he shouldered his way past me and stormed out of the room, not even looking my way.

I closed my eyes and rubbed fingers in my hair, pulling on the roots.

“You surprised me today, Spark,” Coach said quietly. “I knew your loyalty, but I haven’t ever seen you work so hard to get what you want. Would be nice if you’d show this kind of single-mindedness on the ice.”

I blew out a breath, too worried that I’d fucked everything up to decide if that was a compliment or an insult. “A fat lot of good it did. Nothing’s different.”

“You and Hazard seem to have both forgotten that neither of you have the final say in this. Only I call the shots for this team.”

“You can refuse to send him?” That was an easy solution. A simple solution. The best solution. Hope did a little pancake flip in my chest.

“No, but I choose the volunteer to stand in his place.”

“Okay?” I glanced at Graves who was still staring off in the distance, except now he was scowling.

“I think it should be you, Spark.”

A wash of relief hit me like a spring flood. “Oh, thank God,” I exhaled. “You’re making the right choice, Coach. I promise you that. And I will give the Tide one hundred percent. I know I am representing our team. I know I’m representing you.”

“What you are doing, Duncan, is representing your brother. I happen to agree with you that if Nowak gets his hands on Hazard, he will make…choices that could be a detriment to Hazard’s career. And I’d very much like to see Hazard succeed.”

“But could this happen again? I mean, since I’m going to be a Tide now,” I had to swallow the sudden dryness in my throat to continue. Just saying I was going to be a Tide felt so weird and wrong. “Since I’m going to be a Tide, you know that team is going to start winning.”

Graves snorted, then sighed, his arms falling to his sides.

“But on the chance that the Tide are the losingest team next year, could they Dead Man Hazard again?” It would be better than them taking him this year. Because hopefully, I’d still be there and we’d be together again.

Even if Coach Nowak traded me by then, I planned to do a lot of damage before I left. Enough to let them know that if they messed with Hazard, I would be coming back to get them.

“Once chosen, a player can’t be picked as Dead Man again,” Graves said. “Random was chosen. He won’t be up for Dead Man for the rest of his career.”

Relief sent a chill down my spine and I exhaled quietly, a layer of stress lifted.

Hazard might be traded to another team in the future, but he wouldn’t be stolen. Just knowing that set all sorts of things at rest in me.

“Okay,” I said. “Good. This is good. This is great! I’m so glad it all worked out this way. Thank you Coach. And thank you too, Graves, for, you know, standing up for him.”

Graves tucked his thumbs in his front pockets and lifted one cowboy boot to rest against the wall. “Think about this, Duncan. Think about what your career is going to look like. As you’re fond of reminding me, I’m closer to the end of mine than you are.”

What would my career look like? A flash of images of me playing and scoring goals and being amazing crossed my mind. I figured I could look as good doing that in one uniform as another.

But there were a lot of darker images too. Fears. Things I worried would happen to Hazard that would probably happen to me now. Fights, injuries, bad calls, abusive coaching.

Yeah, I could handle it.

I could not only handle it, I’d take over and thrive.

“It’s going to be amazing,” I said to Graves. “It might not be what I planned, but this isn’t an ending. It’s a new beginning. And I’m going to make it work.”

Both men were quiet for a second. Long enough I wondered if I’d said something weird. Those expressions on their faces almost looked like respect. I had the urge to shovel some words into the silence just to bury the awkwardness.

Coach Clay stood and I followed his cue. He extended his hand over his desk and we shook. “I’ll make the call. You better go deal with Hazard.”

For a second I felt like a jerk. I had just made a huge decision for Hazard’s life. He was going to hate me.

But he’d be alive to hate me. He’d be in the league playing hockey to hate me. He’d be a Thunderhead to hate me.

That was enough.

“Thanks Coach.”

“And Duncan? It’s been a real pleasure having you on the team.”

His words, so final, so different than the direction I thought my life would take, hit me like a brick hammer to the gut.

“Thanks, Coach,” I said faintly. “It’s meant a lot to me that you took a chance on me. I’ll always be proud to be a Thunderhead. Thank you for the opportunity.”

I left without saying anything more to Graves because I knew he’d just try to talk me out of volunteering again.

But that ship had rowed. I was going to be a Tide.