Suckerpunch

  At that point Coach Rico must have seen something, because he called Alex to the bench, sent Matty in, and now it was Hertzog holding down the fort for the remaining five minutes of the game.

  “Fanning’s okay, though? Not injured?”

  The trainer hissed. “Don’t move, and don’t talk.” He held a needle up threateningly. “But to answer your question: if he is, no one’s notified us. Fanning’s still on the bench. Spooked by the fight, maybe.”

  Maybe the first goal had caught him off guard and shaken his resolve. If it was any other goalie, Sasha might have simply assumed as much and moved on. But he knew Alex; he might have a bit of a temper lurking beneath the surface, but he was as calm and collected as anyone Sasha knew. Even Ed couldn’t maintain that level of cool in the net.

  The trainer kept him until the final buzzer sounded, doing an X-ray on his hand to check for any fractures. He caught the end of the game—a win, but only barely. By the time Sasha escaped back to the locker room, Alex was nowhere to be seen.

  Shawn was just coming out of the shower, though, so Sasha cornered him.

  “Damn, you look awful. Your lip is already swelling. I’d feel bad for you, but you deserve it after that stupid fight.”

  Sasha ignored him. “Do you know where he went?”

  Shawn gave him a long look, then shook his head. “Leave him alone right now, okay? I know you want to see him, make sure he’s okay, but … give him some space.”

  That was the last thing Sasha wanted to do. But when they boarded the plane to head back to Seattle an hour later, he forced himself to pass over the sweats-clad form already curled up over two of the seats, hoodie pulled lower over his face.

  He ran a hand over Alex’s knee as he passed, then took a seat in the row behind him. Alex didn’t budge for the entire short flight home.

  “I’m not going to answer that question. If there are any injuries to be reported, Coach Henrique will address them. But I will say that Fanning has been an absolute wall in the net for us since he came up. Everyone has a bad game sometimes. For Fanning, he just had a bad couple of minutes. No one here blames him for that, and we’re all excited to have him back between the pipes next week against Atlanta.”

  —Derick Merkley, postgame interview

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  THE PROBLEM was this:

  Alex wanted to be near Sasha. He wanted to bury himself in Sasha’s strong arms, curl up against that hard chest, listen to Sasha’s heartbeat, and fall asleep warm and comforted. He just also wanted to be as far away from Sasha as humanly possible.

  Alex escaped off the plane the second it came to a stop. He’d driven himself to the airport before the game the day before, and now he was grateful that he hadn’t caught a ride with Shawn like his roommate had suggested. It meant he could flee as soon as his feet touched the tarmac. He sent a quick text, asking Shawn to grab his overnight bag for him before peeling out of the parking lot.

  Heather didn’t seem surprised when he knocked on her door, even though it was almost one in the morning.

  “Half a dozen people texted me about what happened,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “The perks of dating a hockey player, I suppose.”

  Alex fidgeted inside the doorway, hands clenching and unclenching over his thighs. “Something is wrong.”

  She sighed. “Come on. We should get comfortable for this one.”

  The couch was comfortable in its familiarity. Alex curled up on one side, knees tucked under his chin, and arms wrapped around his legs. “I’ve played hockey for my entire life, and I’ve never lost control over my vampire side because of blood on the ice. Until tonight.”

  Heather made a low sound. “Alex.”

  He shook his head sharply. “I don’t—I don’t want to talk about it. Just, I know we weren’t going to feed again until tomorrow, but can we do it now instead? Maybe it’ll help with what happened tonight.”

  “Alex.” Heather looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead she sighed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. You can feed.”

  Relief flooded through Alex. This is such a mess. But if I can feed now, whatever this is will go away.

  Maybe something had been wrong with the feeding from two days prior. He’d noticed then that Heather hadn’t smelled right, that he’d felt strange after, as though he hadn’t gotten enough blood. And Alex half expected something similar to happen again today, but when he bent his head in and inhaled Heather’s scent, he was relieved to find that it was the same as always, saffron and spice.

  When he bit into her, the first rush of blood in his mouth was another relief. Heather tasted as usual, the same as she had for the last two months of their arrangement. Maybe it was a one-time fluke. He’d never encountered anything like it in his life, but he’d heard of stranger things. She tastes fine. Not as good as Sasha would, of course, but—no, that’s not an option.

  Still, just thinking about Sasha made Alex’s eyes fall shut. He could picture the blood—everywhere, on the ice, on Sasha’s jersey, his face, painting his mouth a lurid shade of red. The smell had been at once the best and worst thing he’d ever experienced, but all Alex wanted to do now was kiss Sasha and run his tongue over the cut, lap at the hint of blood there and see if it tasted as good as he imagined it would.

  Heather groaned, but it wasn’t a pleasurable noise. “Alex,” she hissed. “Enough.”

  Shit, shit, shit. Alex pulled back as quickly as he could, pressing his lips to the incision until the blood stopped. Then he backed away quickly, dread making his breathing shallow. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She didn’t look fine, though. Heather was pale beneath her tanned skin, and she looked worn-out. “I figured you needed it, so I let you take more than usual.”

  Alex curled back up into a ball, gripping his shins as tight as he could. “You shouldn’t have. I could have really hurt you.” Again, a tiny voice told him. This was the second time in two days that he’d lost control while feeding and taken too much.

  Heather’s smile was tired, but there was a hint of sharpness to it. “I’m not entirely defenseless. If you hadn’t stopped immediately, there were methods I could have used to make you.”

  The words and her tone sent a shiver down Alex’s spine, and he knew she wasn’t wrong. Still….

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe it was the fight, or I’m coming down with something?”

  The look in Heather’s eye said she had a theory, but if she did, then she kept it to herself. “Maybe you should tell your Sasha about this,” she suggested carefully.

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “I know you think you can’t do that.”

  But Alex shook his head. She hadn’t been there in the locker room on that first day, to see the way Sasha had laughed at the slur. Even if Sasha was okay with it, could he really take that risk? The thing between them was so new, so fragile; telling Sasha the full truth could mean losing him completely… or worse: having him tell others that Alex was Para, costing him his job.

  I really like Sasha. And maybe someday in the distant future I’ll feel confident enough to tell him. But until I know if he’s truly anti-Para—until I know if I can trust him to keep my secret, I just can’t risk it right now.

  Mrs. Merkley… a girl can dream! (@MerkleyFan96)

  Finally, a Saturday night home game! It’s so hard to get to a game on a weeknight, so I splurged and got tickets down near the bench for tomorrow vs. Columbus. #GoScades

  Emma (@Cascadiac)

  @MerkleyFan96: Oh, I’ll be at that one too! But I’m in the upper bowl. Want to meet up during intermission?

  ED FOUND Sasha at practice a few days later.

  They were just wrapping up. Coach had left the ice, as had most of the trainers and almost all of Sasha’s teammates. Sasha was working his way methodically through a bucket of pucks, practicing his slap shots while also burning through two days of worry.

&
nbsp; Alex had barely talked to him since the game in Vancouver. He hadn’t talked to anyone really, as far as Sasha could tell, though Shawn spent a lot of time hanging out by his side, chatting without getting any real response.

  “He’s just doing his Phantom thing,” Carts said. “Don’t worry. Give him space, like I said.”

  But giving him space was getting more difficult with every passing day.

  He had his head down, passing a puck back and forth between his stick, when Ed skated up. His friend was only dressed in sweats, but the sling was finally gone.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  Sasha snorted. “You’re a millionaire. I’ll need more than a penny.”

  Ed laughed, grabbing a puck with his skate blade and nudging it across to Sasha, who shot it toward the net. It pinged off the post, and they both watched it roll away.

  “Seriously, Sasha, you look miserable. Did the trainers not clear you to play tomorrow?”

  Tomorrow would be a home game against Columbus, but Sasha didn’t have the energy to even think about that right now. “No, I’m fine. No injuries except my lip.” He sighed, eyeing the rest of the bucket of pucks, spilled across the ice nearby. “I’m worried about Alex.”

  Ed didn’t respond. When Sasha glanced up, Ed had a cold look on his face.

  “I know, you do not like him much,” Sasha said quickly. “But I’m getting to know him while he’s up, yes? And he’s good. Good man, good player. Not a threat to you.”

  “Sasha.” Ed glanced around, then looked satisfied when he noticed that they were alone on the ice. “I need to tell you something. About Fanning.”

  Sasha grimaced. “He’s not stealing your starting position, Eddie. I promise.”

  “No, he’s not,” Eddie said, “because he’s not going to be on the team anymore.”

  What?

  “What?”

  Ed exhaled. When he looked up at Sasha, there was triumph in his eyes, and something else—something a little cruel. “I was at the game a few days ago. In the press box at first, but one of the reporters kept giving me looks like he wanted to grab me for an interview, so I left at the start of the third and headed down to some empty seats at the glass. Figured I’d watch from among the fans, and no one even noticed me with a baseball hat on.”

  No one had noticed him, Sasha thought, because Ed looked different. Ten weeks had made a huge difference; gone was the handsome, charming man who effortlessly attracted women in bars. He looked older, thinner. There were bags under Ed’s eyes now, and his skin looked clammy. Maybe it was just the injury, the lack of exercise, but Sasha couldn’t help but wonder.

  “So I was down behind the Cascades net when the fight broke out,” Ed continued.

  “And?”

  Ed lowered his voice, even though there was no one in sight. “And I saw Fanning. I saw what he is.”

  Sasha blinked. “Yes, of course you saw Fanning. He was in net when the fight broke out.”

  “Dammit, Sasha.” Ed kicked at the pile of pucks, sending them scattering. “He’s a goddamn Para. That’s what I saw. He tried to hide it, but I was looking right at him. Clear as day, the son of a bitch grew fangs right there on the ice.”

  Sasha’s jaw dropped. “What? Ed, what are you talking about?”

  He’d spent hours, days with Alex. Sasha had kissed him, had run his tongue over Alex’s teeth, had made out until their lips were numb. Alex didn’t have fangs.

  “Ed, have you been drinking?”

  Ed’s eyes were hard, lips pursed. “I’m serious, Sasha. I know what I saw. He’s a fucking dirty Para freak. And when I tell Coach and Dubois, they’ll kick him off in a heartbeat. They’re voting in a few weeks, you know. They’re going to test everyone, kick all of the Paras right out of the NHL.”

  Sasha’s mind was whirling. Maybe he is drunk. But this wasn’t the ramblings of a man who’d had a couple of drinks. Ed seemed possessed, vengeful and victorious. He seemed… dangerous. The look on his face made Sasha want to skate away from whoever this man was, because this was not his best friend, his brother.

  “Eddie.” Sasha took a deep breath, thinking fast. “Okay. Wait, think about this. Maybe it’s true what you say, yes? If Al—if Fanning is Para, this is big. But remember what you told me when I first came to Seattle?”

  Ed frowned.

  Sasha plunged forward. “You tell me team comes first. Remember?”

  “I remember.”

  “So maybe right now, team needs to come first for this. You still can’t play. Sling is gone, and that’s good, but still not skating in practices, not cleared to wear full gear. If you report Fanning, we lose a goalie, no chance of making playoffs.” Sasha swallowed, his mouth dry, and kept talking. “Gonna be close, the conference is very tight. Maybe we make wildcard spot, if we can keep winning. But Matty? He won’t be winning enough games.”

  Finally, Ed’s face relaxed as he processed Sasha’s words.

  “You think two, maybe three weeks tops before you play? So we need Fanning in net. And then when you’re cleared, you tell Coach. Okay?”

  Sasha was out of breath by the time he finished, but Ed no longer looked like he was about to storm off for the coach’s office to play his trump card. Instead, he was nodding slowly. He looked calmer, thoughtful.

  “I see what you’re saying.” Ed frowned. “I don’t like it. Don’t like that you all have to play on a team with a dirty Para bloodsucker. But team comes first.”

  “Yes.” Sasha nodded as well. “So we keep secret for now. I will watch Fanning at game tomorrow and—and next week! Road trip, I will watch carefully. We will make sure he is Para, and then only three full weeks from now until season ends and you can be back.”

  Ed was smiling now. “Good thinking.” He patted Sasha on the shoulder with his good arm. “All right, we’ll do it your way, then.”

  Sasha mentally sighed in relief.

  He’d just bought three weeks to figure out what the hell Ed was talking about… and to figure out what the hell to do about it if Ed was right.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Seattle Cascades (@CascadesNHL)

  You win some, you lose some. Cascades fall 4-2 to Columbus. But cheer up, we’re off to sunny Georgia and Florida tomorrow for a week in the sun (and on the ice)!

  Seattle Sports News (@SeattleSportsNews)

  Cascades GM Martin Dubois discusses upcoming General Managers meeting, to be held April 7 in Toronto. “I think it’s going to be very productive. There are several important votes on the agenda.”

  Para Rights—Seattle Chapter (@ParaRightsWatch_SEA)

  We’re calling on Cascades GM Dubois and all other NHL managers to abstain from voting next month to force genetic testing of players. Sign our petition here: bit.ly/p4Ra….

  “GOT YOU a present.”

  Alex look up curiously up at Shawn as his best friend appeared on the other side of the kitchen island. His glance turned to a glare when Shawn’s “present” was revealed: a bottle of SPF 100 sunscreen.

  “You dick.” Alex took a pointed bite of his sandwich, then used it to gesture at his laughing friend. “You know I’m freaking out about this road trip.”

  Shawn nodded, wiping away tears from his eye. “I know, I know, but the look on your face was worth it. Besides, I told you, man. I got this. The only team bonding event is the volleyball thing on the day off between the Tampa and Florida games. You scheduled that interview with ESPN for that time, right?”

  Alex nodded.

  “So you’re fine. Nobody’s gonna say a word. Trust me. Besides, it’s not like Rybár or Wilson are going out in the sun either.” Rybár was almost as pale as Alex was, and had already vocally proclaimed his disinterest in beach volleyball (“Sand, everywhere!”), swimming in the ocean (“Sharks!”), and sunbathing (“Sun burning, you mean.”). Wilson had just lifted one eyebrow when the outing was proposed, then pointed up at his bright orange hair; no one had even tried to involve him after that.

  B
ut while Shawn’s reassurances went a long way, Alex couldn’t help but feel nervous. It was one thing for him to walk outside in the sunshine to get from the bus to an arena, or a hotel to a restaurant over lunch. But going to the balmy, sunny Southeast was considered a highlight for everyone on the team… except Alex.

  “Could you imagine,” Shawn said, reaching over and grabbing the other half of Alex’s sandwich. “What if you’d been drafted by Atlanta or Dallas even?”

  Alex grimaced. “I’ve thought about it. I might not have signed or I might have tried to request a trade. I always knew I was going to the AHL for a couple of years, so I figured not having the spotlight on me would give me time to figure things out. If worse came to worse, I would have gone to play for a college team up north for a bit.”

  Shawn finished the sandwich half in about two bites. “Never really thought about how hard it is for Paras to play in this league.”

  “Could be worse,” Alex said. “I’ve heard shifters have to navigate pack dynamics wherever they end up, and fae need a nature source nearby… which sucks if they end up in a big city like New York. It’s what we do to play the sport we love, though.”

  “And if that vote goes badly in a few weeks?”

  Alex eyed the rest of his sandwich, suddenly not hungry anymore for human food. He handed it over to Shawn. “Then I guess all that work was for nothing.”

  Akseli Mäkelä (@AkseliMakela38)

  I love Seattle but miss lots of sunshine. Thanks NHL for the weeklong trip to Florida! Ahhh, beach + ocean + drinks with little umbrellas, here I come! (Maybe we play some hockey in there too?)

  THEIR PRIVATE lounge at the airport was bustling with excited noise when Sasha arrived. He handed his suitcase over, then found an empty seat so he could charge his phone. The flight to Atlanta for the first of three road games was going to be a long one.