Eerie (35 page)

Someone else was awake all night, too, and when Fin returned to campus the next day, Asher was waiting for him . . .with a reminder.

“Good evening, Pádraig,” Asher said when he stepped inside the dorm room, and the human had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“What do you want Asher, you wanna talk about Hailey? Fine. Let's talk about how you're planning to kill her, and then I can remind you of our agreement,” he said with far too sharp an edge in his voice.

Such disrespect would not go unpunished.

Asher fixed his gaze on Pádraig's eyes.

“Yes,” said Asher, boring into the man's mind. “Let's talk about Hailey.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The Seven Trumpets Ball

“Speak low, if you speak love.”

- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

Tacked on doors and message boards all over campus were flyers announcing the upcoming Christmas Ball and Parents' weekend.

Hailey was gawking at one of them when Giselle caught up to her. Each day saw the banshee looking more and more like an angel—long, golden hair, crystal eyes, disappearing wrinkles . . .

Until she smiled.

It was the razor-sharp demon teeth that gave away her true nature. That and her grumpiness.

“My dress just came,” she barked, and Hailey waited to hear why this was a bad thing.

Hailey dipped her chin. “ . . .and?”

“That's all. But I observed that yours hasn't arrived, and the ball is this weekend. Will you be wearing your sweat pants or going naked?”

Dammit
. Between completing her term project without Asher's help (he found the experimental vibrations far too annoyingly close to his own death frequency), counting books in the library, reading Professor Woodfork's chronicles, and
not
learning how to use her new “evil-detection” gift, because despite his promise to teach her, Asher rarely even talked to her outside of her dreams anymore—somehow, she had totally forgotten to get a dress.

Now, with only three days left before the ball, she had precious few options. Maybe Fin could drive her into town on Thursday?

She rushed home that Tuesday, hoping to find him before hockey practice. But what she found instead when she opened her door was a gorgeous black and gold gown with iridescent embellishments in hunter green hanging in her closet with shoes to match. Her in-between soldier pants kept it from wrinkling and her jellied shirt nodded its approval.

Asher.

She smiled, running her fingers over the rich fabric. He'd been fairly distant for several weeks after her date with Fin, but in her dreams, he'd promised to be more attentive and hadn't even mentioned ripping her soul out, which greatly improved their relationship—and created for her quite the quandary.

She was intrigued by Asher—by his supernatural strength and new-found emotions—and Fin was right. She was flattered by his attention. Seeing him was mesmerizing, and not just because of his hypnotic gaze. He was simply gorgeous, in a dark, mysterious, brooding sort of way, with his smoldering eyes, thick, dark hair, warm embrace . . . and he ignited a fire in her that consumed her very reason.

But then there was Fin. Fin talked to her every day, touched her every day—always kissed her hand or her cheek when they parted . . . Only her hand or her cheek, and she really wanted more. Oh, how she wanted more! And though he hadn't taken her out on another date since their overnight at his cabin, she'd been so busy with school and he with hockey, she'd chalked it up to nothing more serious than a scheduling conflict.

So, when the night of the ball arrived and Fin showed up with a date on his arm, Hailey felt the unmistakable sting of the green-eyed monster as she walked with Giselle to their table. Asher hadn't shown yet, and as Hailey stood and gaped at her thirty-something-looking supermodel banshee roommate flirt with David, a pair of arms surrounded her from behind.

She jumped, and Fin buried his face in her neck, kissing her softly.

“You are a vision of beauty,” he murmured. “Save me a dance.”

“I will.” Hailey smiled broadly.

“And make it early, because I think Asher is going to kill me for good tonight,” he called over his shoulder as he returned to his date.

“If he bothers to come,” she muttered, but only Giselle heard her.

Dinner came and went, and Asher was still a no-show. While Hailey drummed her fingers on the table, Fin seemed to be having quite a good time laughing and snuggling with Adelaide Martin, the long-legged, blond-haired beauty queen he'd escorted. Then the music started and Hailey's face drained. She grabbed Giselle by the arm, yanking her away from David and into the ladies' room.

“Giselle, you have to help me, I don't know how to dance like a normal person.”

“Let me see.”

Hailey tried a modified Irish jig, and Giselle raised her lip.

“What am I looking at? You look like a tree on a pogo stick. Try bending your arms or turning or something.”

Hailey sighed and pulled her elbows up as she bounced and moved in a circle.

Giselle pointed a finger at her. “Farmer in a tornado.”

“Giselle,” Hailey huffed.

“Don't bend your arms so much and stop twirling . . .nope. Now you're a confused windmill. Move your hips or your head.”

Hailey tried moving a little bit of everything to the muffled rock-n-roll string quartet, which played through the walls.

“Epileptic Chicken.” Giselle settled against the sink and looked at her thoughtfully. “What if you just slid a little across the floor without bouncing so much?”

It felt awkward, and Giselle agreed.

“Moonwalking Frankenstein,” she declared. “No, do another one,” she commanded when Hailey crossed her arms, and she hopped onto the vanity. “This is fun.”

Hailey gave it one last shot, bending her elbows, moving her bum, shaking her shoulders, bobbing her head and swaying side to side.

“Moose stuck in a swing set.” Giselle hopped off the vanity. “That's the one. Very Alaskan. Now let's go have some forced fun.”

David and Giselle hit the dance floor, but Hailey, still dateless and feeling neglected sat alone, elbow on the table, head on her fist and watched the lights dance across her beautiful shoes. There was no way she was doing the “moose stuck in a swing set,” and it was a slow song anyway, so she crossed her arms and sulked.

“C'mere, beautiful.”

She looked up to see Fin standing with one arm tucked behind his back, the other extended to her like a perfect gentleman, and she took it, smiling excitedly. He pulled her to her feet, guided her to the center of the room and looked up.

“Mooseltoe,” he said, eying a rustic ornament hanging from the ceiling.

“That looks like poop on a spruce branch.”

“It is,” he conceded with a grin. “Moose poop. But you're supposed to kiss under it. Aren't Alaskans clever?”

With his arm around her waist, he pulled her body to his and held her tight. With his other hand, he grabbed her chin and brushed his thumb across her lips as he swayed with her to the haunting music.

After a few beats, he pressed his forehead against hers. “This will probably do me in,” he breathed against her mouth, “but I'm tired of waiting for you to kiss me.”

“What do you—”

Fin shoved his lips over her mouth.

She stopped dancing. So did he, and they stood frozen on the dance floor in a heated embrace as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Her whole body flushed with heat, and she pressed against him. For several seconds, he held her, exploring her mouth with his tongue, then nibbling at her lips, and the music faded—the room faded. He relaxed his hold and danced soft kisses across her cheek until his lips touched her ear.

“Forgive me, Hailey,” he whispered fervently, and the room reappeared. Hailey gazed into his pleading eyes, his face ashen.

“For what?”

He sighed heavily, tightened his arms around her and swayed her body to the music. “Everything.”

Could he be any more vague?
But it didn't matter. Of course she forgave him. For anything. Everything.

“After a kiss like that, I'd forgive you for ripping my heart out,” she breathed.

For the briefest instant, his face darkened.

He momentarily loosened his hold on her only to squeeze her tight again. She rested her head against his shoulder, and the music changed, but he didn't loosen his grip.
Another dance, then
. Hailey smiled. She caught a glimpse of his date standing cross-armed in the corner of the room, tapping her foot as she watched them closely.

“She looks angry,” Hailey told him, and he glanced over his shoulder at Adelaide.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a carefree laugh. “She does. I don't really care. I told her when I asked her to the ball that I'd be dancing with you. Asher's probably got his panties in a bunch by now, though . . .”

“Asher hasn't shown up.” She was going for nonchalant, but couldn't disguise her disappointment at being stood up.

“See? You should've been my date.”

He tucked a loose tendril behind her ear.

Blushing, she looked down, pressing her lips together to reign in her giant grin. He so easily lifted her spirits, and she loved him—absolutely and unconditionally.

Fin ran the back of his fingers down her cheek and under her jaw then lifted her chin and smiled sadly. Hailey looked up at him.

“What is it?”

He shook his head, still gazing at her with sad adoration.

“Why did you say Asher would kill you for good tonight?” she asked softly.

Fin sighed and pressed his lips together. His eyes darted away briefly, and he set his jaw, like he was gathering his courage.

Uh-oh
, Hailey thought.
This must be pretty bad.

“He thinks I'll hurt you,” he said with no trace of emotion.

“Why would he think that? Because of Cobon?”
Because I'm crazy in love with you, and if you reject me, my heart will implode?

He answered in a flat voice. “No. Because of the way I am . . .with women . . . I guess I get bored easy.” The last bit came out sounding strained. “I don't want to hurt you, Hailey,” he pleaded.

“Then don't.”
Why did it feel like he was saying goodbye?
She opened her mouth to probe further, but now he was looking across the room and his expression hardened.

“Aw, shit.”

She turned her head but saw nothing. “What is it?” she asked as he released her.

“Nothing,” he said with an icy tone. “I'll be right back.” He didn't even look at her as he said it and left her standing on the dance floor looking after him.

After Fin disappeared into the shadows of the hall, Hailey moped back to the table and scanned the room again for Asher. Still nothing.

Giselle appeared, positively glowing.

Hailey looked her up and down. “I think you've turned the corner on the hag issue,” she told her. “You look like a movie star.”

Giselle smiled, and Hailey pointed at her mouth.

“Except for the pointy demon teeth,” she said.

“David just kissed me.” She could hardly contain herself.

“Did he survive?”

Hailey was still looking at her roommate's razor-sharp snarl, and Giselle nodded toward the doors where David stood with a dumb grin plastered on his face, surrounded by no fewer than ten of their classmates.

“He's bragging to his friends right now,” Giselle said, looking radiant.

As Hailey observed David swoon, something flashed in her periphery, and she snapped her head around in time to see Asher across the room, holding Fin by the throat with one and and pressing his other hand against Fin's forehead. She sprang out of her chair and raced over to them.

“ . . .two months, and my patience wears thin, Padraig. You forget your place, and your soul is still black as pitch with the hundreds of lives you've taken,” Asher was saying through clenched teeth as Hailey approached.

Hundreds of lives?
Neither man noticed her drawing near.

“Yeah,” Fin choked. “You know why?” His face went crimson with rage.

Asher didn't respond.

“Because I actually
have
a soul, Asher. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

“Asher has a soul,” Hailey piped, rather nonchalantly, given the two looked as if they were engaged in mortal combat.

“What?” the men asked in unison, Fin with disgust; Asher in astonishment.

Hailey looked from one to the other.

Asher released his grip on Fin, and Fin took a swing at him. Without shifting his gaze from Hailey, Asher snagged Fin's fist out of the air and squeezed it until it crunched. Fin doubled over, and Hailey's hand flew to her mouth.

“Oh my God, Asher!” She rushed to Fin's side, and Asher seethed. Fin shook his head and held up his good hand.

“Don't touch me.”

“Hundreds of lives?” Hailey put her hands on her hips, demanding an explanation.

“It was
one
life,” he yelled, standing hastily, and Hailey cringed.

Fin's voice went low, hateful. “Over and over and over . . .”

He put his face close to hers and stared resentfully into her eyes. “And over.”

She shrank away, blinking at him, speechless. What was he saying? What life?
His
life? Had he killed himself
hundreds
of times? Maybe after living in hellish torment for hundreds of years . . .

There were some things I had to straighten out with the Big Guy.
That's what he'd told her at the church. It all made sense. Suddenly, instead of yelling back, all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him. But Asher was watching. Glowering. And Fin was looking at her like she was a cold sore.

“So now you know,” he spat at her. He turned his back and walked off. Hailey stared after him and watched open-mouthed as he slung his arm around Adelaide. Then he kissed her so passionately, it turned into a full-body salsa dip. Hailey's heart plummeted into her stomach.

“Hailey,” Asher beckoned, holding his hand out. His voice startled her. “Come. We must talk.”

She couldn't read his expression or his tone, but it felt like she was in trouble. Tentatively, she put her hand in his, and he led her to the door.

“It's really cold outside,” she said, unable to hide the fear in her voice and hoping he hadn't planned on making her leave. For some reason, she felt safer in public, though she didn't really believe a crowd would stop him from killing her.