Eerie (26 page)

“It was the only picture I had of us dancing together,” Hailey said.

Giselle snatched the half-burned photo.

“Don't—” Hailey stood wide-eyed as the picture healed itself in Giselle's hand, growing back to a whole image right before her very eyes. Giselle handed it back to Hailey and plopped onto her bed.

Hailey stared at the photo. “What just happened?”

“Oh, sometimes I can fix things,” Giselle said in a bored voice from behind her magazine.

Hailey sat on the edge of her bed. “Who sent that thing to me?” she asked, dragging her sleeve under her nose and sniffing loudly.

“Somebody that hates you, though that doesn't narrow the pool of
student
suspects, does it?”

“Kick me while I'm down, Giselle.”

“Someone who knows your sister,” she added lazily.

Hailey turned away, covering her face with her hands and sobbing quietly.

“What are you doing—stop that.” Giselle threw down her magazine and jumped up.

“Just give me a second,” Hailey said in a muffled croak between sobs. When a weight pressed the bed next to her, Hailey looked up. There sat Giselle, looking pensive as if she were balancing her tush on a bed of nails.

With her eyes darting around the room, Giselle sat stiff as a board. She drew a loud breath, stuck her jaw out, raised the shoulder nearest Hailey, and said, “She was really pretty.” Then she stuck her hand out like a robot and mechanically patted Hailey on the back.

“Giselle, you're scaring me.”

Giselle grinned as she stood up, looking wholly proud of herself.

“Next time you get a Nasty Gram, take it to the Dead Letter Office at I-MET—they can tell you who sent it.” Giselle looked down at her roommate. “I'm sure you'll get more.”

“Good evening, Pádraig,” sneered a voice from shadows, as Fin trudged into his room. It'd been an arduous evening on the ice, and Fin was in no mood for Envoy lunacy.

He flung his door shut and flipped on the lights.

“What do you want, Cobon?” he asked, sounding drained as he dropped his duffel on the floor.

“Reciprocation. Is that too much to ask?” Cobon scowled as he emerged from the corner. “Three thousand years I've endured this place. I ferried energy for billions of you ungrateful humans—I was a servant before I was imprisoned here—”

“—try not to spit all over my room when you speak,” Fin interrupted.

Cobon glared at him.

“All I ask is for a little obedience.” Cobon leaned menacingly forward, but then he smiled cheerfully, straightened up, and shook his head.

“Let's not argue, Pádraig. I only came for a chat, you see, I was in the neighborhood delivering a personal message, when I had an epiphany.” He paused as he surveyed Fin's room, wiping his finger across a bookshelf then rubbing it with his thumb before he continued.

“The Envoys don't belong here, Pádraig, you know that. They—we, I mean—have to go home, and that girl.” He extended a flat hand toward Fin's door. “She must die.”

“Why don't you just find a chump to kill her, then?” Fin said, detached. “You know . . .like you did Holly . . .” He threw his keys on his dresser and grabbed the remote.

“Didn't you know?” Cobon answered excitedly. “I already have!” Then he sighed. “Well,” he said flippantly as he made himself comfortable on Fin's recliner, “in a manner of speaking. My brothers have grown weary of my methods. If I were to take another life before its time, they may very well turn on me. Besides, a wicked human would never make it past Asher, he protects her, you know.”

Cobon stood and paced thoughtfully around the room.

“Oh, I tried a few round about ways to kill her already.” He tapped his lip. “She just won't die.

“But! If she were to take her own life, then . . .” Cobon held his arms wide and shrugged gleefully.

“Suicide?” Fin scoffed. “Perhaps you haven't met Hailey.”

“Oh, but
you
have, slave.” He lowered his head and pointed at Fin. “You're my chump.”

Fin shook his head, one eyebrow raised. “So, what—are you going to kill me, Cobon? Right in front of her? Make her think I'm dead . . .?”

“Oh, no. No-no-no . . .she's far too resilient for that, no, this requires something far more . . .destructive.”

Cobon stood, tenting his fingers together, walking stiffly around the room.

“To destroy a house, you cannot simply crush it—it is too easily rebuilt. No . . .you must wreck the very foundation on which it stands. She trusts you, Pádraig. She loves you. And you know how to destroy one who loves you . . .”

“Go to hell, Cobon.”

“Oh, why so squeamish? You'll destroy her sooner or later, why not just get it over with?”

Fin pushed his jaw out. “Listen, Oprah, I have no intention of hurting her. Ever. And this interview is over.”

“ . . .fuck them and bounce . . . Isn't that your modus operandi?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“That was last year, Pádraig, have you forgotten?”

“That had nothing to do with me,” Fin said, his voice rising as he turned away from Cobon.

“Really? Quite a coincidence, then, didn't she hang herself in your room?”

“It wasn't my room.”

“Oh right, it was your lab, wasn't it? That was a nice touch, don't you think? I remember it well,
I was there
. Oh, Adalwolf and I go way back. He never could get you to take a life, though, could he? Well, not one that mattered anyway, but he did eventually figure out how to make you kill.”

Cobon paced the room with his hands folded behind his back, looking thoughtful and hopeful and completely deranged. “And all he had to do was leverage your God-given talent!”

Cobon leaned toward Fin and raised his hand to the side of his mouth as if he were divulging a great secret. “ . . .and maybe whisper a few words of encouragement into the heads of your concubines,” he hissed.

Fin squeezed his eyes shut.

“Adalwolf showed me all of his little tricks and all of his little games he played with you. How many women have you sent to Hell for him? More than a dozen, I think. What's one more? We could make quite a homicidal team, you and I.”

“Forget it, Cobon. I'm not your slave.”

“We never forget,” Cobon whispered through clenched teeth as he lurched forward. “She would let you, you know—she trusts you. You could very easily destroy her—drive her into despair and madness—just as you've done it before—drive her to . . .suicide?”

Fin bowed his head.

“You say, ‘no,' but your wickedness says yes,” Cobon continued. “You dream of her. You dream of the things you'd do to her, I've seen it.”

“You little pervert,” Fin said feigning incredulity. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Cobon grabbed Fin by the neck.

“You will obey us, Pádraig, whether you wish to or not.”

“We've been here before, Cobon,” Fin grunted, rolling his eyes. “I am not your slave.”

Cobon's eyes flashed, and he set Fin back down on the floor.

“Besides,” Fin coughed, “she's in love with Asher.”

Cobon spun around and crushed Fin's face with powerful back fist.

Staggering back, Fin held his mouth and nose with both hands as a torrent of blood spilled out.

“No human could ever love an Envoy.”

Fin grabbed a towel on his dresser and pressed it against his face.

“The sooner she rejects him the better. For everyone. He favors her, you know, his love for her grows—he may well make her immortal, and then what?” he asked, throwing both hands up. “We'd all be trapped here . . .she becomes his slave . . .you live an eternity without her . . .without love . . . She was made for
you
, I've seen it—I've seen her soul—you two are mates.”

Fin raised his head slightly.

“Ahhh,” Cobon cooed. “You know it too—you knew it the first time you saw her, didn't you? I couldn't use you for Holly, because you would've run straight to Asher, but I'm betting you won't be telling him about our little chat tonight, will you?” he said, watching the red as it fell from Fin's towel into little puddles on the floor. “Because if you did, I think he'd protect the girl from you. Maybe he'd put you into permanent storage someplace . . .underground maybe—or perhaps he'd seal you inside a sarcophagus with a heavy stone lid—that would hold you. And you would live your life over and over and over again—an eternity trapped inside a coffin, does that suit you?”

Fin made a mostly nasal gurgling noise then coughed.

“Why don't you sleep on it? I'll help you, of course. Good night, Pádriag.” With that, Cobon walked toward a dark corner and vanished.

And Fin sopped up the blood on his floor, using every second of the next twelve hours to decide if he shouldn't leave Bear Towne University and Hailey Hartley forever.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Civilization Road

“Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.”

- Albert Einstein

Fin was a no-show, and Hailey waited a whole fifteen minutes past their rendezvous time before she pounded on his door.

“Enter,” he called, sounding dispirited, and Hailey poked her head in.

“You alright?” she asked when she saw him sitting hunched apathetically over his guitar.

Without looking up, he strummed a familiar tune, singing coldly.

“His disguise is the black of night, and in your heart, he's darkness . . .”

He plucked a single, hard note and with his head still bowed, set his guitar aside.

“That's not how it goes,” Hailey said softly, though his voice was beautiful and honest, and she wished he'd sing some more.

“For me it is.” He showed his face, and Hailey gasped.

“What happened?” He had two black eyes and a crooked nose.

“Rough night. I was hoping it would heal a little more before our drive. Maybe by the time we get to town, you won't be ashamed to be seen with me.”

Hailey rolled her eyes, smiling earnestly as Fin grabbed his wallet and keys.

“And here I thought you were standing me up.”

Fin offered his elbow. “Never, my dear, you're the only thing in this world that matters to me,” he said under his breath. But Hailey definitely heard it. She froze.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Are you alright?”

Fin let out a curt laugh. “Right as rain, dear,” he answered in his best grumpy Pix voice.

“I think you have a head injury,” she surmised. “Do you want
me
to drive?” she asked coyly, and Fin's bruised face fell.

“Uh—no.” He led her outside to a brand new, bright red, four-door pickup truck with big tires and decals boasting “off-road” and “4-wheel drive.”

“What happened to your car?” Hailey asked, frowning her disappointment.

“Convertible-go-fast car in Pennsylvania,” he said. “Sturdy-go-in-snow pickup truck in Alaska.”

Civilization Road led out of Bear Towne University and away from The Middle of Nowhere like a stem on the four-leaf clover-shaped campus, and even traveling at warp-Fin speeds, it took more than three hours to actually reach civilization.

“Where should we start?” Fin asked as they came into Anchorage.

Hailey shushed him so she could concentrate on three small airplanes circling the pattern around an airfield, which she could only see out of Fin's side window. She leaned into his lap and craned her neck.

He shifted slightly, letting out a low groan.

“Cool, huh?” He spoke down to her as she stretched across his legs.

“They're so tiny. They look like toys, don't they? Oh, I bet it's a breathtaking ride!”

“Alright, sit up,” he said, expelling a lungful of air as he nudged her with his knee. “Let's get some lunch.”

As Fin pulled in to a fried chicken joint, Hailey grabbed her stomach, which was trained to growl at any mention of food.

“ . . .and if you can hear me over that monster in your gut, I'll take you flying in the school's Super Cub this winter,” he offered.

Hailey gave him a blank stare.

“You can fly?”

“There's a lot I can do,” he said in his oh-so-confident way, and Hailey looked away. She could feel her cheeks burning as she all but fell out of the truck.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” he chided.

“I wasn't even thinking about sex with you,” she blurted before she could stop herself and in a voice so loud another couple turned to stare.

Paralyzed by shame, Hailey wrapped her arms around her head.

Footsteps crunched against the gravel next to her.

“Yes you were,” said Fin.

“No, I really—I wasn't—I never even . . .”

When she uncovered her head, a few tears of embarrassment sneaked out of her eyes.

Fin wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. Oh how she missed his hugs!

Even with a twinge of guilt pricking her heart, she didn't want him to let go, and she closed her eyes as she breathed in his cologne.

Then he kissed her on the head with a loud, “mwah!” and the moment was gone.

“Let's get some grub,” he laughed, walking with his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in tight. “You're the biggest spaz . . .” he teased, and Hailey wiped her face.

“You stink,” she chuckled with a sob. Jeez, not twenty-four hours had passed since her last break down, and there she was crying again. “Someone sent me a Nasty Gram yesterday,” she told him.

Fin threw his head back and let out a groan. “Cobon.”

“What?”

“He swung by last night . . .said he was out delivering a personal note.”

“Is that what happened to your face? I thought Cobon couldn't come to Bear Towne—I . . .I thought Asher could keep him out—I thought . . .” Her heart pounded as her sense of security evaporated.

Fin pulled her into another hug, pressing her head into his chest, instantly quelling her panic. Just like with Asher, it was complete comfort . . .and Fin didn't want her dead.

“Don't worry about it, okay?” he said softly. “Asher can stop anyone from hurting you before it happens . . .”

Fat chance.

“...and Cobon won't come near you.”

Hailey stepped back. “What do you mean? Why?”

“He's afraid you'll destroy him.”

“Why? Why does everyone think I destroyed an Adalwolf—I didn't,” she insisted with wide eyes, and Fin pursed his lip.

“Everyone
thinks
that, because Adalwolf went into your bedroom when you were a child . . . And then he exploded.”

Staring vacantly at the pavement, Hailey wondered how long it would take Cobon to figure out she was harmless.

Fin patted her bum and led her inside, where he ordered a bucket of chicken.

“Why did Cobon come see you?” she asked after he paid.

“Because he's a perverted, psychotic maniac. Here.” He shoved a fried chicken leg into her hand. “Eat.”

Hailey nibbled her chicken leg, and with no further talk of exploding Envoys or her almost certain death at the hands of a perverted psychopath, they reached the bottom of the bucket and headed out.

“Where to first?” Fin asked, slapping her leg after he started the truck.

“Clothes, shoes, boots, pillow, blankets, robe, towel, toiletries, winter coat.”

“Mall,” he said, putting the truck in gear. “Don't worry about your winter gear. I'll take care of it while you get all your other stuff. And Hailey—do
not
forget . . .” He paused, shaking his head as he claimed a spot near the entrance, and Hailey's mind raced.

What? What could be dangerous about the mall? Unmarked in-betweens? Cobon? What?

Fin sighed. “—a razor.” He smiled playfully, and she slugged his arm.

“Meet back here in an hour, okay?” he chuckled as they made their way inside.

Within forty-five minutes, Hailey had everything, including a razor, and she met Fin at the exit. He took her bags for her as they walked to the truck.

“You wanna do some skating while we're here?” he asked, tossing her things onto the back seat.

Hailey shook her head. “I've never been on ice skates. I wouldn't even know how to put one on.”

“Then I'll show you,” he said using his professor's voice, and he steered her back inside.

“I usually try to avoid embarrassing myself in public, Fin.”

“No you don't,” he reminded her as he pushed her into the ice arena. “You wait right here while I get our skates . . .and don't talk to strangers.”

Hailey waited obediently with her hands folded in her lap for Fin to return with two sets of skates. One was already installed on his feet, and he fitted the other onto her little feet in a way that made her feel like Cinderella.

“Let's go.” Grabbing her hands, he pulled her toward the rink.

“No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no,” she pleaded, walking stiff-legged like the tin man, but Fin lifted her onto the ice anyway, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and holding her tight against him.

“Come on little penguin,” he sang as he skated across the rink with her. “Time to spread your wings and glide.”

“Penguins don't spread wings and glide,” she said on wobbly legs. “They flop and slide.”

“Not if they're from Pittsburgh,” he pointed out as he pivoted in front of her. “It's time you learned.” He took her hands, pulling her along as he skated backwards.

“You know I really don't think this is a good idea.” Her legs stiffened, her butt jutted out, and she almost lost it in a spastic cartoon-like pirouette. But Fin had good reflexes. He pivoted, turned, and caught her under her shoulders so gracefully it felt like a choreographed dance.

“Nice save,” she breathed as he steadied her on her skates again.

“You should see me play,” he offered. “Season opener in Anchorage,” he said. “I'll even get you a backstage pass IF you can stay out of trouble until October.”

Hailey wobbled dangerously but recovered with only a slight nudge. “Deal,” she said confidently, holding onto his hands. “You know, I think I'm getting the hang of this,” she smiled, slipping her hands through his until he held only her fingertips.

Then she let go altogether.

“Hey, look!” she exclaimed proudly. “I'm doing it—whoa!”

She faltered slightly, which threw her off balance, which caused her arms to circle like a windmill, and when she instinctively turned her foot out like an Irish dancer, her ankle crumpled with a wet-sounding CRACK! Down she went—like a flyswatter.

“Ouch,” she mumbled into the ice, and Fin skidded to a halt next to her. As she rolled over and pushed herself up to sit, her ankle flopped to the side.

“Dammit,” Fin said angrily.

“I'm sorry,” Hailey gushed as he scooped her up. “I was doing great, and then I lost my balance, but I totally had it, but then my ankle quit, and . . .” She twitched her foot. “—ouch—I think I hurt something.”

“Nonsense,” he said, skating her off the ice. “You just wanted me to carry you, so you could feel my bulging pectorals.” It sounded like he was joking, but his voice had a scornful edge, and Hailey didn't know what to say.

Setting her on a bench, Fin surveyed the damage.

“It's not your fault,” he said throwing his hand up. “Your laces came loose.”

Hailey looked down. Not only had they come untied, but they'd uncrossed themselves from the hooks, draped themselves under her bootie, and retied themselves into a loose bow.

“This has poltergeist written all over it. You must've pissed one off, if it followed you here.”

When Fin pulled her skate off, her foot swelled past a comfortable fit-into-wellies size.

“I'm designing a new ghost trap—you know—one that actually traps ghosts,” she said quickly as Fin touched her foot. “—ouch—it'll be my term project—ow—ow—ow—and I told the one in the library it would be the first to go.”

“That would do it,” he said woefully. “We should head back anyway.”

The ride home to Bear Towne became too quiet. Fin stared through the windshield with his elbow propped against his door, head resting on his fist. For forty very uncomfortable miles, he said nothing, so Hailey decided to break the silence.

“That was a fun day,” she said brightly.

He shot her a disgusted glance then turned his attention back to the road.

“You thought that was a date?” He asked in a way that told Hailey he sure didn't.

It took her a second to realize he'd misheard her.

“No! No-no-no, I—”

“That was not a date, Hailey.”

“Oh, I . . .I didn't—”

“I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me. This was
not
a date.”