Eerie

by C. M McCoy

  Asher slowly turned his probing gaze to Hailey, his head tilted ever so slightly.

  She looked up at him. Oh, no. He thinks I’m talking about him . . . As the realization dawned on her, her face fell.

  “Not . . . It’s not gross to . . . That . . .” Hailey stammered, and Asher watched her closely. “I didn’t mean it would be gross to . . .with you . . .” She shook her head, but she might as well have just blurted the word “penis.”

  This was a disaster. Did Asher even have a penis?

  She bit her lip before she blurted that too.

  “That expression on your face,” Cobon said, leaning uncomfortably close to her. “Tell me what it means—what are you thinking?”

  Abject, vomitus horror at the mental image of you naked.

  “It’s the look of verbal restraint, Cobon—you’re . . .” Hailey looked to Asher, who seemed interested to hear what she had to say, but not near as attentive as Cobon. “You’re rotting and disgusting.”

  Cobon stepped back, looking genuinely offended.

  He glided to the grandfather clock and studied his reflection in the glass.

  “Humans are superficial,” he said as if it were some sort of cosmic revelation.

  “If I may, Asher...” Cobon turned away from his reflection and waved his hand at Hailey. “At the risk of sounding . . .pharisaic, let’s say.” He grinned as if amused by a private joke. “This little affair with your human is dangerous in so many ways—forget the wrath of the others—tell me, what won’t you do to her when she rejects you?”

  Both Asher and Cobon suddenly shifted their gaze into the distance, momentarily distracted. Hailey looked around the room, listening intently, but she perceived nothing out of the ordinary.

  “You hear it too,” Cobon whispered. “Hideous sound, is it not?”

  Asher narrowed his eyes at Cobon.

  “What darkness are you hiding, brother?” he asked, turning his head ever so slightly, and Cobon sneered.

  “Time for you to leave, I think,” he said coldly, his eyes bulging. His next words were measured, commanding. “Tomorrow, Asher. No more stalling.”

  Hailey’s heart jumped into her throat. Tomorrow? Did he want to kill her tomorrow?

  Chapter Forty

  The Tipping Point

  “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams.”

  - Henry David Thoreau

  “Come along, Hailey,” Asher said gently and without explanation as he slid her chair out, and when they returned to campus, Hailey unloaded six months of confusion.

  “What was the point of that?” She stood on shaky legs after the floor of Asher’s atrium slammed against her feet. She didn’t know if she was more wobbly from melting or from the prospect of Cobon ripping her soul out. Honestly, if he were hell-bent on doing it the next day, she would rather Asher just did it right then and there and got it over with. She didn’t want Cobon’s creepy, scaly, corpse hands on her.

  She shuddered.

  “We accomplished nothing, Asher, Cobon is . . .is . . .” She shook her head, bewildered.

  “Cobon has clearly gone mad.”

  “Clearly. He sounds like a psychotic maniac—Asher, why did he kick us out? What was the hideous sound you two heard?”

  Asher creased his brow. “It was a very sudden, very brief, and very faint percussion—barely audible, even to me, but just as suddenly as I heard it, Cobon concealed it from me.”

  “He can do that?” Hailey’s eyes darted left then met Asher’s fierce gaze. “Why would he do that?”

  “He hides something . . .” His voice trailed off, and Hailey watched his eyes erupt. “Cobon is a skilled deceiver. He can project images and sounds—as well as obscure them from the minds of humans and Envoys alike.”

  “But why would he do that? What . . .?”

  She dropped her shoulders and huffed, exasperated. Cobon made absolutely no sense. But in his ramblings, he’d mentioned so much. “Asher, were you there when he killed Holly?”

  The mood in the atrium shifted. He stood unmoving for several seconds, gazing impassively, no doubt weighing his answer though his hesitation spoke for him and punched her in the stomach.

  “Why didn’t you stop him?” she breathed.

  At least he had the decency to look contrite.

  “I wanted to, Hailey, but I couldn’t stop him. We spoke of this—the others would have surely intervened, and then you would have been in danger.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were right there, watching as she—”

  Just like he had when Adalwolf came to kill them.

  Hailey turned her back on him, pressing one hand to her forehead and clutching her shirt next to her belly with the other.

  Asher moved so he stood directly behind her. Very gently, he grazed his fingers down her arm from her shoulder to her elbow.

  “There was no way to rescue her.”

  “You told me she didn’t suffer.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper, and Asher sighed.

  “Forgive me, please. Cobon shielded her mind. Holly experienced no pain.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “I sought only to protect you.”

  “Did you?” she asked absently. Then she shook her head. None of this mattered right now. “Does Cobon want you to kill me tomorrow?”

  Asher stroked her hair. “Yes,” he breathed.

  “Are you going to?” she demanded, her heart racing.

  Asher nodded. “If I don’t do this, Cobon will, Hailey,” he implored.

  “How do you know this will work, Asher? What if the same thing happens? What if it fails and the others are there? How do you know you won’t kill me permanently?”

  Asher knit his brow together and drew a great breath.

  “Because I would die before I hurt you,” he said slowly, and as the words left his mouth, his expression darkened, as if he’d just awakened to an undesirable realization.

  “But it will hurt me.” Her voice rose barely above a whisper as she imagined having her soul pulled. An image of Jaycen, bloodied and writing in agony on the floor of her dorm room forced a gasp, and when she spoke again, her voice wavered. “Will you . . .shield my mind from it? Like Cobon did for Holly?”

  Misty-eyed, Asher shook his head, and Hailey pressed her arms to her belly, clutching her shirt in tight fists as she hugged herself tight. “Cobon has much experience in manipulating human minds. I’m afraid it’s a skill I’ve never honed.”

  “And what if I hurt you?” She shook her head, swallowing hard. “Cobon thought Holly killed Adalwolf. Now he thinks I did. You guys have no idea what happened that night, do you?”

  “You killed Adalwolf, Hailey. There was nobody else in the room. You and Holly and—” He cut himself off and turned away.

  “You just don’t know, do you?”

  He said nothing.

  “Well, what if you touch my soul, and it kills you?”

  Asher spun to face her, pressing his forehead against hers, closing his eyes.

  “Then you’ll be safe,” he declared. “From all of us.”

  There was no place Hailey could hide. No one but Asher could protect her from Cobon, and even though he planned to kill her the next day, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and feel safe. Even if it only lasted a couple hours. That night, she dozed only once, only briefly and woke with a start, relieved to find herself still lying in Asher’s bed, tucked in his powerful arms. He squeezed her tight, his chest pressed against her back.

  “You were in a nightmare,” he murmured. “I was just coming to rescue you.”

  “Oh,” she breathed, trying to bring her heart rate down.

  She snuggled in his embrace.

  “That’s sweet,” she said, “but you would’ve been rescuing me from yourself.”


  He didn’t respond.

  “I’m really scared, Asher. I don’t want you to kill me, even if it is only temporary.” Her heart pounded just thinking about it, and she squeezed his arms so they pressed tight against her hollow chest.

  “I won’t do it until you’re ready, but know that Cobon won’t wait, and if he comes to claim you, I don’t know if I can stop him,” he warned.

  Her insides went cold at the thought of Cobon’s crusty, gnarled hands. She shook away a shiver.

  “I don’t want him touching me.”

  Asher let out a scoff, or was it a laugh? “I don’t want him touching you, either.”

  “Where does that leave us?”

  Asher shifted, propping himself up on his elbow. Turning so she faced him, she gazed up at him expectantly, hopefully. Surely he had a solution.

  “There’s no escaping this,” he told her, impassive. “Your fate was sealed the night your mother gave you that necklace. Cobon’s desperation grows, and his patience wanes.” His eyes darkened as he paused, and Hailey waited, anxious to hear his genius plan to liberate her from her dark fate.

  “I must go,” he said.

  “You can’t leave me!” Holy buckets of ice water. He was getting up.

  “I will speak with Cobon.” He grazed his fingers next to her ear. “Perhaps I can persuade him to wait.”

  Hailey hopped to her feet, her brow pulled together.

  “Don’t go . . . please . . .” She reached out, grasping his arm as she stared despondently into his eyes. “I need you, Asher. I’m so afraid. Please don’t go.”

  He pressed a slow kiss onto her lips.

  “You’re safe here,” he murmured. “I won’t be gone long, and I’ll be watching you. I can be at your side in an instant.”

  He kissed her again, and she closed her eyes. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, and when she opened them again, he was gone.

  Don’t be afraid.

  Okay. Hailey nodded bravely.

  Don’t be afraid.

  Her eyes darted around his bedroom, desperately searching for a distraction from the fear, which hovered menacingly over her head.

  When pacing frantically through his obnoxiously opulent house didn’t shake it, she dropped her shoulders and sighed. She couldn’t just sit there and wait for cruel fate to find her. She threw on her coat and ran out the door, resolved to take matters into her own hands or at least find some answers, form a plan maybe . . .

  In the end, she knew she had to face death by Envoy. Hopefully it would only be temporary. And there was no way she’d let Asher touch her soul if it would kill him. If she had indeed killed Adalwolf, she needed to know exactly how it happened and exactly how to stop it from happening again. She didn’t know how much time she had.

  As she jogged to her dorm, she closed her eyes briefly, envisioning herself wrapped securely in Asher’s embrace, breathing in his after-rainstorm scent and letting her heart swell with love for him.

  Hurriedly, she gathered her books from her room, grabbed her backpack, scribbled Giselle a note and taped it to the mirror.

  G—

  Meet me in the library--asap. Asher’s going to rip my soul out.

  —H

  That should get her attention. Giselle had experience in the soul-touching arena, and Hailey desperately needed her expertise to sort things out. She bolted through the hallway, down the stairs, and exploded out the door just in time to run face-first into Fin.

  “Whoa!” he yelled.

  She ricocheted back and fell on her bum, flinging her armful of books up in a spectacular flourish, which left her notes scattered across the ground in all directions. She should’ve taken the extra thirty seconds to pack them into her backpack before she’d left the room. She shook her head in self-admonishment.

  “Sorry!” she shouted automatically as she hastily gathered her papers.

  Wait. Why am I apologizing to him?

  “Watch where you’re going,” he muttered irritably, and he stood over her, arms crossed, watching as she struggled to gather her papers before they blew away.

  “You ran into me!” she yelled up at him, and then she threw her leg over a page that lifted into the air. Darn the wind. And thanks for your help, Fin.

  “Please . . .” he scoffed. Turning away, he seized a page out of the air. “Hope’s greatest fool, Hailey, you’re pathetic.”

  Like she ran into him on purpose! Is that what he thought? What a jerk.

  Rushing to her feet, Hailey snatched the paper from his hand. He held it tight, so she had to pull again.

  Ask me nicely, he should’ve said, but he only scowled.

  Hailey blinked, and for one hopeful moment, she imagined his thumb grazing her hand. Finally, he released the page, and she staggered back.

  “I said I was sorry, Fin,” she said, as a traitorous lump grew in her throat.

  Dammit. She meant to call him Pádraig. And she didn’t have time for this now. Didn’t he know this was her last day on Earth? Maybe he did, and he didn’t care. The thought pricked her eyes, which welled with tears. She had to get out of there.

  Shoving the whole messy pile of notes into her bag, she ran off with her head bowed, eyes fixed on the ground.

  You’re a weeping cesspool . . . Well, yes, she was weeping, but she didn’t think she was infectious waste. His cruel words reverberated in her head, bouncing around, turning over and over. Hope’s greatest fool . . .

  Oh, stop it! Why did she keep torturing herself? Because those words are familiar, her subconscious reminded her. A memory . . .it was a memory—she’d seen those words before, but where . . .?

  Hailey glanced back, keenly aware that it might be the last time she laid eyes on him. His head was bowed as he trotted off.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered.

  Fin burst into Asher’s house without knocking, hell-bent on a confrontation that would hopefully end with his death—once and for all, sparing him another second of living with the agonizing heartache that sucked the air from his chest. He’d hurt the only woman he ever loved, and he’d probably lost her forever. Not that he deserved her anyway. He didn’t deserve to even look at her.

  “Asher!” he barked, storming from room to room. When the Envoy didn’t answer, Fin bellowed as loud as he could, gritting his teeth, his face crimson with rage, “Asher!”

  “Where is she?” Asher answered urgently, appearing suddenly in the doorway behind him.

  Fin pivoted and lunged at the Envoy.

  “You listen—”

  Asher grabbed his neck and squeezed. “Cobon obscures my vision, Pádraig. He may already have her, where is she?” Asher repeated, his eyes a volcanic fury. He eased his grip enough for Fin to speak.

  “I just saw her leaving Eureka—five minutes ago,” he croaked, his voice partially strangled. “She had her books, library?”

  Asher tossed Fin to the floor and spun around.

  “I’m going to tell her the truth, Asher!” Fin shouted as soon as he caught his breath, and Asher turned back scowling hatefully.

  “You will tell her nothing, slave,” he said slowly.

  “Suck it, Asher. I won’t miss another second of her life.” He said it with conviction, because he wanted it to be true. He wanted to stay with her forever. But Asher would never allow it. He’d destroy her, and Fin’s heart would turn inside out. He’d die a thousand deaths if he ever did something to hurt her again. No, this was the end for him. He couldn’t bear to face another dawn without her. He knew what he wanted. An end. And Asher was the only one that could provide it.

  “You delay me with your misplaced defiance when her very life is at risk. And you will tell her nothing!”

  It was working. He was angry. Maybe even furious. Fin shook his head.

  “I’m going to tell her the truth,” he repeate
d, his voice weary, defeated.

  “Wrong answer, Fin.” Asher grabbed him up by his neck again.

  “What are you going to do, Asher? Kill me?”

  He tried to hide the hope in his voice as he egged the Envoy on.

  “Oh, I can do far worse than kill you . . .”

  Matthew the book worm did his best to fetch Hailey some helpful references from the stacks, but honestly, he was so gorged with tea, he moved more like Jabba the Hutt than a zinging inchworm, and it took him ten minutes to return with The Banshee’s Guide to Handling a Soul, which read like cell phone instructions.

  Hailey slammed it shut. While she waited for Giselle, she returned to straightening and smoothing her crinkled notes. As she made her way through the pile, something strange caught her eye. There among the mound of windblown pages, she found a handwritten note. She recognized the print immediately . . .the phrases . . .the metaphor . . . Oh my God!

  This lonely soul by solitude stalked,

  whose Sandman’s sand makes said what’s not

  what God knows. And now it’s got

  your Rose, a fool, in deception locked.

  Who else but me would make this hell?

  Who else but you could break this spell?

  Hailey clutched her stomach. The rose . . .the lonely soul . . .the weeping cesspool . . . She gasped. Hopes greatest fool! Fin wasn’t insulting her—he was trying to talk to her—to tell her in a code that only she would know—a code he’d used before—it wasn’t Asher who’d carried her home from Holly’s grave. It was Fin! He was begging for help!

  Realization hit her like a freight train. The rose . . . The sketch of her at Holly’s grave . . . All this time he was trying to tell her, and all this time, she was too stupid to get it.

  She had to find him.

  She pushed back from the table, but when she stood, her legs buckled, and she fell back into her chair. The room went black. Her breath caught in her throat; her ears filled with muffled silence. And she was falling, through the chair, through the floor, flailing her arms at the nothingness in desperation, anticipating—no dreading—the impact.