by C. M McCoy
“You should be.” Hailey wiped her face with his shirt and looked up at him. “Save your aggression for the ice.”
“You still coming to the game this weekend?”
“That was this weekend?” she asked, feigning surprise as she wiped her last tears away.
“Yeah . . .you . . . Did you forget?” he stammered, sounding genuinely disappointed.
Hailey smirked, and he rolled his eyes.
“Are you kidding? I can’t wait to see what paranormal hockey looks like.”
Fin held her close as they walked into Eureka, saying, “I think you’re in for a surprise . . .”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Paranormal Hockey
“There is no such uncertainty as a sure thing.”
- Robert Burns
“This is incredible,” Hailey gasped as she took in the extraordinary view—dancing foils of light zinging across the heavens and streamers of glowing warmth in shades of violet and scarlet chasing a glint of yellow through the cosmos, whirling together when they caught it then throwing off sparks of white as they broke apart.
It took her breath away.
She should have guessed Asher’s “telescope” used no ordinary optics. But she had no idea she’d be treated to a glimpse into the Aether.
“Now I know why you spend so much time here. It’s spellbinding,” she marveled. She blinked hard and pulled away from the eyepiece. “You said you were looking for forgiveness. What did you mean?”
Asher placed his hand on the telescope near Hailey’s shoulder, so close it warmed her skin.
“When you look through this aperture, you can see into the Aether,” he said. “In the Aether, one can find many things. I once betrayed a friend in her most desperate hour. She came to me for protection.” Asher’s face hardened slightly. “And instead of giving it, I tore her apart.”
Hailey froze.
Searching his eyes, she tried to discern whether she saw there more remorse . . .or annoyance.
“Her name was Kiya. We flung her energy in different directions across the universe, across the Aether. I don’t know where she went, but I intend to find her—piece by piece if I must.”
“Why didn’t you help her when she came to you?”
“I was offended,” he answered in a forceful voice, “by her emotions—by the very feelings that you arouse in me.”
He stepped toward her, and Hailey took a step back, looking over her shoulder at the edge of the platform. Should she misstep, there was no railing to stop her from plummeting over a hundred feet, and Asher’s eyes boiled as he took another step forward.
Instinctively, Hailey put her hands up in defense, which seemed to enrage the Envoy. He lunged at her, and she staggered back a bit too far, teetering on the edge of the mezzanine with wide eyes.
Grabbing her around her waist with one hand, he grasped a tight fistful of hair at the back of her head with the other, holding her over the edge as he glared into her eyes.
“I shouldn’t blame you for the perversion of love that has gripped me, but often times, I do,” he said, and Hailey let out a whimper.
He was two seconds away from dropping her—she just knew it. She grabbed hold of his shirt and hung on for dear life as he fumed.
“This passion—this hate and love—I am maddened by it.” He dropped his seething gaze to her mouth. “And just when I think I should rid myself of you, I’m stung by compassion and longing.”
“Don’t let go of me,” she breathed, and Asher jerked her roughly away from the edge, still holding her head painfully tight. She tried to shove him away, but it was like pushing against a block wall.
“Don’t fight me, Hailey,” he whispered to her ear, and still clutching a fistful of hair, he pressed his lips to hers, unleashing a surge of soothing heat that spread through her mouth, across her face, into her eyes, down her throat, and all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. As Asher’s calm washed over her, Hailey relaxed into his arms and slid a hand onto his shoulder.
When he finished, he released her and gently stroked her cheek. “I’ve given you a gift, my love,” he told her tenderly. “I’ll teach you to use it—to tune your eyes and ears to pick up the discord in others before their evil touches you.”
“Okay,” Hailey whispered, overwhelmed. Gift? She’d have to process that later. At the moment, she was still reeling from his biting words. Rid myself of you. It played over and over in her head. She pressed her palm to her chest and sneaked a peek over the edge.
“I thought you were going to . . .let me fall.”
“Don’t you remember, Hailey?” said Asher tilting his head. “I will never let you fall.”
That night, the Aether was different . . .uncomfortable. The usual pale, soothing light seemed offensively bright and there was a din—a jumble of hideous screeching that grew so loud it hurt. Hailey pressed her hands over her ears and sank to her knees. Then quite suddenly, it stopped, and when she opened her eyes, she was standing inside Fin’s room, watching a heated conversation.
Squinting her eyes brought the hazy scene into sharp focus. It was Asher speaking through clenched teeth to Fin, and neither of them seemed to notice her eavesdropping from the shadows. She was only getting bits and pieces of what they were saying.
“I won’t do it!” Fin yelled.
Asher’s voice faded in and out. “ . . .cannot control . . .have her . . .destroy her . . .”
Fin took a swing at Asher, and Asher caught his fist. Fin let out a yelp, and Asher’s voice rang clear: “I’ve gone mad.”
Hailey bolted upright, soaking wet and clutching her chest, her heart beating like a snare drum.
“Was it a good one?” asked Giselle. She was wide awake and sitting on her bed with her legs folded.
“What?” Hailey panted.
“You just had a premonition. Woke me up with your wheezing. Was it a good one? You should try to remember it before it fades away.”
Giselle was right. It was slipping through her memory already—just like a dream. She tried to catch her breath and held tight to a few tendrils of images and sound bites . . .Asher and Fin. Arguing. Fin refused to do something...something Asher wanted him to do . . .
And then it was too late. The memory was gone.
Fin caught up to her as she walked to breakfast that morning. “Hailey,” he called, and she stopped to wait for him.
“Hey,” she tried to sing happily, but her despondence rang like a bell. “Ready for your big game today?”
He thrust his chest out and scoffed. “I was born ready.”
Flashing a weak smile, Hailey’s shoulders drooped.
Wrapping an arm around her, Fin walked hugging her in silent support for several minutes. Then he gave her an encouraging squeeze and said, “So, the student bus leaves from Chinook at noon—you’ll be on it, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss seeing the Yetis kick some Anchorage Ice Pick butt for anything,” she told him, and he beamed.
“Listen, my folks will be there,” he said looking less than enthusiastic. “And they want to meet you.”
“They do?”
“Yeah,” he said apologetically.
Hailey nodded. Then she looked at Fin, confused. “I’m sorry, your parents are alive?”
“Eh . . .yeah. Look, just pretend that they’re normal, I’m normal, you’re normal, everyone is normal and nobody’s cursed, and Bear Towne is just another university, okay?”
“Okay,” she said with a shrug. Why not?
“Why do your parents want to meet me?”
“Long story, Hailey. Just—” Fin sighed heavily. “—suffice to say they want to meet the girl I . . .that I . . .”
“That you what?”
“That I met in Pittsburgh.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding more disappointed
than she meant to. She recovered with some quick small talk. “What do your parents do?”
“They’re both doctors, but now that my dad’s retired from his practice again, he’s a roof shoveler.”
“A what?” said Hailey.
“A roof shoveler. He shovels snow off people’s roofs in the winter.”
Hailey was still confused, and Fin continued, “ . . .so they don’t cave in from the weight of the snow . . .? He enjoys heights.”
Hailey shook her head. “Alaskans are just bizarre.”
“Said the girl who works for a zombie librarian and lives with a demon.”
Hailey bit her lip.
“I’ll introduce you to them real quick after the game. Just meet me in the locker room when it’s over, okay?”
“In the . . .like inside the locker room?”
“Yes,” he said sarcastically. “Hailey, it’s real simple. You open the door that says ‘Locker Room,’ you walk inside and you keep walking until you see me.”
Hailey shook her head. “I’ll just wait for you outside.”
“No, Hailey,” said Fin, looking more annoyed. “Everyone will be outside. I won’t be able to find you. I’m giving you a backstage pass—use it.”
“I don’t want—won’t you guys want some privacy? I don’t want to see...anyone . . .you know . . .” Hailey hesitated to say the word “naked,” and Fin was at the end of his patience.
“Hailey,” he said sharply. “Just come straight down to the locker room after the game, find the gaggle of reporters, and file inside with them.”
“Oh. Okay,” she answered, more comfortable knowing there would be a whole group going in, and Fin rolled his eyes before jogging away.
At precisely twelve noon, an entirely normal bus, carrying an entirely paranormal group departed from Chinook Hall and bumbled four hours south to Anchorage.
Hailey sat next to the most avoided student at the school . . .well, second to herself . . .and the last few students to board the bus actually came to blows over who would sit in the seat across the aisle from Giselle.
In the end, nobody sat there, and the student who lost the fistfight ended up sitting on the floor in the back of the bus.
“I’m not sitting next to that thing,” he’d muttered as he sped past her, squeezing himself as far to the other side of the aisle as he could.
At first, Giselle seemed unruffled, but then she turned to Hailey, who stared in open-mouthed astonishment at the jag-off. “I’m never doing this again,” she said bitterly.
Hailey rested a hand of solidarity on Giselle’s shoulder. “Somewhere,” said Hailey, “there’s a ‘jack’ who’s lost his ‘ass’.” She jabbed a thumb at the back of the bus. “Guess what? We found it.”
Giselle’s scowl softened, and Hailey sighed happily as she stared out the window.
“How is your hair so . . .pretty?” Giselle asked in a snooty voice.
Wait. Was that a compliment?
Hailey turned to her roommate, one eyebrow quirked, and she tipped her head to the side. “You know, your hair really is turning blonde,” she marveled. “And I will hook you up with my hairstylist when we get back, that’s a promise.”
Hailey had to bribe Giselle to get her to come to the hockey game, and the banshee had no idea that Hailey’s secret hairdresser was actually Tomas the albino poltergeist. She couldn’t wait to see how things played out between the two of them.
In the arena, the girls sat near the glass and watched the game—Giselle with a disturbing eagerness to see fists fly, and Hailey with serious zeal, fully expecting a fire-breather or levitating goalie to appear at any moment. But the Yetis and the Ice Picks flew up and down the ice, colliding, fighting, and bleeding within all the laws of physics, and much to her disappointment, Hailey realized it was just a regular game of hockey.
Giselle on the other hand was delighted.
Fin spent a lot of time in play, and he was pretty good. So good, that the most gigantic of the Glacier College players made it his mission to repeatedly chase Fin down, slam him into the glass, and punch him in the face—scuffles that Fin seemed to thoroughly enjoy. He took several blows to the head and more than a few shots to the ribs. At one point, no fewer than three of the Ice Picks had him pinned to the glass right in front of her, and as they beat the snot out of him, he managed to glance up and see Hailey’s look of horror.
He gave her a mischievous grin. Then pushed himself away from the glass and landed a nose-breaker on the giant goon. He flew out of the corner in time to get a quick little shovel pass from Sidney, his teammate, and then he fired the puck at the goalie. It ricocheted off the goalie’s pad and bounced into the net.
The crowd went wild.
And the pace of the game only picked up. It was constant action. Hailey saw three fights (all of which involved Fin), five goals and at least one tooth get ejected—all before the third period even started.
“It’s just . . .regular hockey,” Hailey concluded with a frown during the final intermission.
Giselle, using no more than her disgusted expression said, “No kidding, dumbass,” and then she squinted.
“There’s something different about you,” said Giselle. “Did Asher curse you?”
“What? No,” Hailey said quickly then she frowned. “Well, I don’t know. He finally kissed me again.”
“How was it?”
“Terrifying.”
“Told you,” said Giselle, and Hailey twisted her lips to the side.
“Anyway, after he kissed me, he told me I’d be able to detect evil.” She looked up at her roommate. “I don’t feel any different, though.”
Giselle stared straight ahead, so Hailey changed the subject.
“Has a guy—or a non-human or whatever—ever kissed you?”
“Do I look like something any guy would ever kiss?” she spat.
“You will once my hairdresser gets through with you.” Hailey had an epiphany. She’d been waiting for an opportunity to bring up the Christmas dance. “And if you want, he can do your hair up for Seven Trumpets . . .”
“Nobody is going to ask me to the ball!” she yelled, and she turned her back on Hailey.
“What about David?”
Giselle didn’t respond, which was actually a good sign, and Hailey was encouraged. Now all she had to do was convince David to invite the campus banshee to be his date at the Christmas dance. How hard could it be?
She spent the third period of the game working out her strategy as she watched her favorite bartender bleed, heal, bleed again and then score yet another goal. He actually was phenomenal.
By the end of the game, she couldn’t wait to see Fin . . .neither could the twelve female “reporters” who waited for the all-clear outside the locker room door with her.
When the door swung open, Hailey let the gaggle of giggling girls file in. Then she hesitantly peeked inside and saw a few of the visitors chatting to some of the players. Most of the men were already showered and partially dressed. A few wore only a towel, and one sang loudly in Russian from the shower.
As she glanced around the room, Hailey made a concerted effort to look at the guys from the neck up only. After making unintentional eye contact with far too many bare-chested players, she finally spotted Fin next to a row of lockers. His hair was wet, and he was only partially dressed, but since he was expecting her and since she’d already seen him naked from the waist up, she figured it was alright to proceed inside.
She sped over to him, smiling brightly and still buzzing with the excitement of the game. As he finished giving a sound bite to a scantily-clad “member of the press,” Hailey waited patiently with her hands clasped. Fin had shed several pounds and really toned up since the summer. Hailey pointed at his abs, marveling so loud it echoed.
“Wow!” she exclaimed. “You’re so small!”
<
br /> The whole room went silent, and everyone turned to see whose manhood had just been robbed.
“Hailey,” said Fin in his best instructor’s voice as she pulled her shoulders in, “that’s not usually something a man likes to hear.”
“I’m so sorry!” She covered her mouth with both hands.
Fin scratched his eyebrow. Then he threw his shirt on and led her outside.
“I meant your belly,” she told him in a small voice. “You were getting a little shelf over the summer, but now you have a six-pack,” she said desperately.
Fin gave her a cold stare. “A closed mouth gathers no feet, Hailey.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No . . .” he sighed. “You’re just my cross to bear.” He hung his arm around her neck and knuckle rubbed her head.
“Ouch!” she laughed in relief.
“Come on, knucklehead,” he said, pointing across the parking lot. “There they are.”
“Oh, Declan, here they come,” Fin’s mother cried as the two approached. She raised her hand to her mouth, and his dad straightened up, tugging the hem of his coat.
“Pádraig,” he said with a single nod. In a business-like demeanor, he gave his son a firm handshake.
“Declan,” said Fin coldly.
Shoving herself between the two, his mother opened her arms wide and squeezed Fin tight.
“So good to see you,” she said.
“You too, Meara,” he answered curtly.
Hailey stood by, smiling politely until Fin escaped his mother’s clutches and stepped back.
“Guys,” he said unenthusiastically, “you remember Hailey . . .”
“All grown up!” Meara gushed. She crushed Hailey in a giant mom-hug.
“Oof—I’m sorry, have we met?”
They both looked sort of familiar.
Meara released her to arm’s length, saying “Oh, but it was years ago. You were just little when we were neighbors—”
“—lived right next door,” Declan interjected.
“—until the fire,” said Meara. “Of course, after Pádraig pulled you girls out of the house—”