Page 51 of Grumpy Pucking Orc (Orcs on Ice #1)

Ozar

I knew that human sports teams were often named after ferocious animals or a job that reflected an employment option in the area. Our name, the Tusks, was obviously because of our tusks, given that we were all orcs. Some of these other team names perplexed me, though.

The team we were to play next was called the Blue Jackets.

I knew there were horrible insects in the human world called yellow jackets, and I’d encountered those nasty beasts once while jogging in the park.

After several hours of pain and then a day of intense itching, I’d realized that size did not necessarily equate with the level of suffering an animal could deliver in this world.

But Blue Jackets? I had no idea what the fuck Blue Jackets were supposed to be.

I was going to assume they were yellow jackets, but worse. So, I made my locker-room speech especially energizing.

“We will not be bested by a bunch of humans using an insect as their totem animal,” I shouted. “We are orcs, and orcs do not lose.”

“ This group of orcs loses,” Eng sneered. “We lose over and over again.”

“There’s losing after a valiant fight, and there’s losing twelve to zero because all you’ll do is lean against the wall and watch the enemy score goals.” I was arguing back, but I could tell a lot of the team felt the same as Eng.

“ I didn’t lean against the wall, and it hasn’t made any difference at all,” one orc shouted from the end of a row of benches. His comment spurred on a chorus of “me too.”

Ugwyll stood and slammed his fist against a locker, denting the metal and silencing everyone. “One orc alone is a powerful force, but against a highly trained enemy? Such a disadvantage is hard to overcome. The more of us who fight, acting as a team, the more likely we are to win.”

Eng snorted and Ugwyll pointed at him with a growl.

“If you lean against the wall tonight, I will pick you up and throw you over it into the crowd of humans.”

Eng took a step forward. “I’d like to see you try.”

I jumped between them, arms outstretched. “Save it for the ice. I want us all to put the fear of the mountain gods into our enemy. Charge them. Slam into them. Hit them with our sticks?—”

“That’s against the rules,” Bwat protested.

“I don’t care. If half the team ends up in the box, then so be it. I want them so scared of us that they abandon the puck and run away when they see us coming for them.”

Ugwyll lifted his chin. “A good plan, Ozar. And if one of us gets the turd-puck, the others should skate along with him and guard him from the enemy. Protect the turd-puck holder until he can violate the enemy’s net.”

“Who is with us?” I raised my fist in the air, but the only response was some half-hearted grumbles. “Who. Is. With. Us?” I shouted and glared at each orc until they all assented—well, all of them except Eng.

I taunted the enemy as usual during the puck-drop, adding several criticisms about the human’s inability to perform in the furs and questioning his parentage.

When the puck hit the ice, I surged forward with a growl.

The enemy got the puck, but I managed to wedge my stick between his skates by accident, and he stumbled, cursing at me.

Before he could throw his gloves off and fight, Ugwyll snaked his stick in and stole the puck from him.

The crowd roared. I’d expected that they would be supporting their home team but was surprised that many seemed to be shouting approval at us. One group even had a banner that said “Go Ozar” on it.

That feeling that I’d had back in Baltimore returned.

I remembered the children wanting to talk to me, the Starbucks employee and random strangers on the street who’d greeted me by name and expressed confidence that we’d win next time.

They hadn’t thought we were jokes, and although we had yet to win a game, humans were still supporting us.

Jordan still supported us, supported me.

Digging the knife-blades into the ice, I pushed off and skated as fast as I could after Ugwyll.

Our strategy was to guard whoever on our team had the puck, but Ugwyll’s skating practice paid off and the rest of us orcs were quickly left behind.

The enemy closed in on Ugwyll and he fought valiantly to keep them from taking control, using his elbows and wide shoulders to create distance.

It was a losing battle. With their long sticks and greater skill on the ice, the enemy swarmed Ugwyll like their namesake, and I knew he would soon be overcome .

Suddenly Ugwyll dug in his knife-blades, sliding to a stop and spinning around. The enemy overshot him but quickly recovered. Ugwyll had a split second of freedom before he was mobbed, and he took that second to slap the puck my way.

I had to slow down to gain control, and that brief pause cost me. A human snaked his stick under mine and tapped the puck out of my reach. In retaliation, I skated into him, and we both went down in a heap.

What happened next was nothing short of miraculous.

Another human ready to take the puck was flattened by one of my teammates, who managed to send the thing flying toward the wall—directly at Eng.

Without hesitating, Eng twisted his stick and smacked the puck midair.

It hit the ice with incredible speed and whizzed into the enemy’s net.

There was a moment of stunned silence, then the arena erupted with a mixture of cheers and groans.

We’d scored a point. We’d scored the first point of the game. And even more unbelievable, Eng had been the one to land the puck in the net.

Sadly, it was the only point we scored. Since the final score was eight to one, I was still counting this as significant improvement even though we were a long way from a win.

It gave me enough confidence to actually return Jordan’s text from my hotel room once Eng was asleep and I had a bit of privacy.

I love you and also want to talk more about our future when I return to Baltimore.

I stared at the phone after hitting send, afraid to even blink in case I missed her reply.

Not that I was sure of a reply at all. It had been a week since she’d originally sent me the message.

It was late. Jordan might be asleep or out with her friends.

Or she might not want to acknowledge my text since I hadn’t replied to her in a reasonable amount of time.

Finally forcing my eyes away, I rolled over and tried to sleep, still clutching the phone. It felt as if I’d tossed and turned for hours when the device vibrated against my palm, but when I turned the screen face-up, I saw it had only been ten minutes. And that Jordan had replied.

Call me.

I jumped out of bed, ran into the bathroom, closed the door, turned the water on, and climbed into the tub with the shower curtain pulled, hoping that all of this would give me a bit of privacy in case Eng woke up.

She picked up the phone in the middle of the first ring. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” For the first time, I wasn’t sure what to say to her. Thankfully, she took the lead.

“You all did great tonight—especially you. Grabbing that pass, fighting off the Blue Jackets…and you scored a point!”

“Eng scored the point,” I reluctantly reminded her.

“But you and Ugwyll and Morok set it up. You were part of the assist.”

“Eng didn’t mean to score the point. He refuses to help the team. He wouldn’t have hit the puck if it wasn’t coming straight at him. Our point was an accident.”

Jordan let out a sigh. “Lots of life is a happy accident. Take the point and celebrate it either way.”

She was right, but I couldn’t keep from focusing on all the things the team was doing wrong.

“We were terrible this whole week. Fools for the humans to laugh at. And the Blue Jackets still won tonight.” I tugged at my chin and tried to change my attitude.

“They did win by less than the other enemies, though. And we had sixteen tackles tonight. ”

Jordan laughed. “That’s football, sweetie. Tackles don’t count in hockey, although intimidating the other team with threats of violence and fights are definitely part of the appeal.”

“We’re good at intimidation, but the enemy is too fast for us. They get away before we can hit them.” I was complaining again. I hated being that grumpy orc with Jordan, but she was the only one who ever seemed to understand my frustration.

“Your skating will improve with time,” she assured me. “You are so talented when it comes to physical ability. It might not happen this season, but the Tusks will win a game.”

I had my doubts about that. Half the team wasn’t committed to the contest, and the other half of us lacked any skill. The human children who’d played on the ice during the first intermission were better at hockey than we were.

But I’d unburdened on Jordan enough for one evening.

“How is your dental business going?” I asked. “Do you have any new werewolf or vampire clients?”

“I do !” Jordan’s voice raised in pitch.

“No vampire clients besides the one woman who is coming in next month for an evaluation, but in the last two days I’ve had six appointments scheduled for werewolves— that’s in addition to my friend Stephanie.

And my new drill came in. Your implant should arrive by the time you’re back in town, so we can get your new teeth installed whenever your schedule allows. ”

I grunted, less interested in my replacement teeth than seeing Jordan again.

And I wasn’t particularly excited about the mention of a drill.

While Jordan’s Instagram photos were interesting and filled me with admiration for her skill, passion, and intellect, they also made me a little nervous about this procedure.

“I will always make time for you,” I promised. Even if that involved her drilling a hole through my jawbone.

“You’ll be back when? Next week?”