Eerie (25 page)

“Tage?”

“The men at DOPPLER knew I protected you. I allowed them their curiosity for a while. But when they placed one of their agents close to you, I became . . .jealous very quickly.” Asher flicked his eyes at the floor then back to Hailey.

“You stopped . . .” Hailey shook her head. “Did you make him forget me?”

Asher nodded, looking ashamed.

Hailey's head pounded. She sat on the edge of the couch. Tage really didn't like her after all—he was just spying. It made her sad and angry, because his stupid attention dominated one of the last conversations she'd had with Holly.

“Forgive me,” said Asher.

“I'm glad you stopped him.”

Asher sat next to her. “When I built this place,” he said, his eyes tracing something in the distance, “it was with the intention of tearing the Barrier and finding a way home—I was never convinced that Cobon's rock would succeed. To function in the world of men, I made certain concessions . . . I shared bits of information with the government through DOPPLER, and in return they sent me great minds and stopped interfering with my work.”

Though she hung on Asher's every word, Hailey stifled a yawn, struggling against the drowsy aftermath of a paranormal poisoning.

“Sometimes it's necessary to have dealings with those who are despicable—an alliance, even. The men at DOPPLER believe they operate as spies for the humans, gathering information about the Envoys. But they are our puppets. Many Envoys use them. Cobon has used them to watch your family for decades.”

“Do you think he kidnapped my poltergeist from Pittsburgh?”

Asher tilted his head, squinting slightly.

“Tomas—he told me he escaped from DOPPLER . . .that they were dangerous . . .”

“Cobon,” Asher said as if to himself then he looked at Hailey. “Call your ghost friend. I wish to speak with it.”

Gleaning information from a poltergeist was no easy task, even for an Envoy. There was no mind to manipulate, and ghosts simply didn't care—about anything. Tomas had latched on to Hailey, though, and he eventually offered Asher a few details.

When Asher returned from his conference with Tomas, he was sure of two things. First, Cobon already knew he'd killed the wrong sister. Before escaping DOPPLER, Tomas had witnessed many things, one of which was Cobon's interference with Jaycen's pathetic attempt at spying. Jaycen had been telling the truth—Cobon had indeed switched her barrier breaker.

Second, Hailey fussed with her hair a lot, especially if she anticipated seeing Asher, which bolstered his confidence in her affection for him.

He found Hailey sleeping soundly on his couch and watched over her for several loving minutes. When it was clear she wouldn't wake to continue their talk, he gathered her in his arms and moved her into his bed.

She never stirred.

During the night, she shivered once. Very easily, he could have pulled a blanket over her. Instead, he warmed her with a gentle embrace, holding her tenderly through the night, wondering how much of his plan for her he would divulge.

“Thank you for the book for Mrs. Spitz,” Hailey told Asher as he escorted her across campus to her dorm the next morning. “I can't wait to get my hands on some ParaScience data—I'm designing a new ghost trap. The one in our room doesn't work, and even if it did, it would require an escape hatch—I'd feel awful if Tomas got stuck,” she gushed, feeling completely rejuvenated after a great night's sleep in a bed with blankets and a pillow—and Asher.

“Mrs. Spitz expects you this afternoon,” he said. “She's a gifted clairvoyant, and she has a message for you.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Librarian

“A room without books is like a body without a soul.”

- Cicero

“Want to come to the library with me?” Hailey asked her newly appointed conversation partner in her ParaCommunications class.

Giselle contorted her face. “I hate libraries,” she grumbled. “Too many bookworms.”

She only answered because she had to, otherwise she'd get a low mark in class participation, and she'd already failed the class three times. She wasn't happy about having a conversation partner, but then Giselle wasn't happy about anything. At least she hadn't asked Hailey where she'd slept last night . . .which reminded her . . .

“Giselle, where were you Monday night? You never came home.”

“Working.”

Hailey jerked her chin back.

“Really? Where?”

“I had the night shift at the hospital,” she said airily.

Of course! That's how she knew about carnivorous splinters.

Hailey tried not to shudder as she imagined Giselle's bedside manner.

“And by the way,” Giselle continued like a snob, “I wasn't home last night, either. Obviously, you weren't there to notice—where were you?”

Well, that backfired.

“Were you sleeping with Pádraig?” Giselle jeered.

“No—I didn't—it was—” Hailey sputtered, and then she huffed in frustration. “I got shot by a poisoned quill.”

“Really. I didn't see you in the hospital.”

“Asher fixed me up.”

Giselle crossed her arms and bared her top teeth. “You mean he made you his slave.”

“No, he just fixed me up.”

“Envoys are all about balance. They don't just save people without getting something in return.”

“Well, this one did.”

“Then he must be losing his mind.” As soon as she said it, she slapped her hands over her mouth and ducked. She looked around, terrified for several seconds before bowing her head, sniffling and pulling a string of silk from her eye.

“Are you alright?” Hailey asked.

“Asher scares me,” Giselle answered softly, and Hailey gently patted her back.

“Remarkable!” trilled Professor Mum loudly as she clapped her hands and rushed over to the girls. “You two are a model of human/non-human cooperation.” She beamed. “Everyone!” she called, and the whole classroom turned to see a frozen, wide-eyed Hailey patting the back of cobweb-faced, whatever-the-heck-Giselle-was. “Observe.” Professor Mum motioned to the girls. “This is what a cross-creature friendship looks like!”

Hailey turned stiffly to Giselle, who turned to Hailey, looking as shocked as Hailey felt. Hailey stifled a giggle. And Giselle actually cracked a smile.

“Well, non-human
friend
,” said Hailey at the end of class, “you sure you don't want to come to the library with me?”

“I hate you,” said Giselle, but she was only mildly wrathful as she walked out.

“Hello?” Hailey called softly as she finally stepped over the threshold of the Bear Towne University Library. An impossibly large shadow-clock spanned the ceiling, hands silently twitching. “Hello . . .” Hailey sang again, though she wasn't sure why—it was a public library.

Some clairvoyant
, she thought as she made her way inside, bribe in hand.

“Six hundred and eighty-seven,” barked a female voice.

Hailey spun around.

There stood the librarian, hands planted firmly on her hips, foot tapping impatiently. Mrs. Spitz looked like she'd just stepped out of 1960. She wore pointy, wing-tipped glasses, a beehive hairdo, and a boxy jacket with large buttons.

“Excuse me?” Hailey said politely.

“Six hundred and eighty-seven.” Mrs. Spitz articulated each syllable. Peering down her nose at Hailey, she thrust her hand out.

Hailey placed her offering into Mrs. Spitz's outstretched hand and stepped back.

Mrs. Spitz opened the book, read a few lines, tested the binding, sniffed loudly, slammed the book shut, and said, “Follow me.”

Falling in step behind her, Hailey noticed a suspicious object protruding from the librarian's back. And it looked an awful lot like a knife.

“Uh . . .Mrs. Spitz?”

The librarian whirled around.

“You have a . . .a . . .” Hailey remembered she wasn't supposed to mention sharp objects.

“A what?” Mrs. Spitz demanded.

“There's something wrong with your jacket,” Hailey said quickly, cringing as she nodded to it.

“Huh?” Looking over her shoulder, Mrs. Spitz tugged at the hem of her retro coat, which made the knife in her back wiggle up and down.

“I can never get this thing to lay right,” she muttered. “How's that look?”

“That's much better,” Hailey whispered, giving her a nervous thumbs-up and trying not to hyperventilate.

“Hmph. Still feels wrong.” Mrs. Spitz placed her hand on a bookcase in the reference section. “You'll start on this shelf, here. Those books need to be shelved.” She pointed to a stack on a wooden cart next to the shelf, and then she shook her finger at Hailey. “Exactly six hundred and eighty-seven books to a case.”

Hailey gave her a blank stare.

“Oh, I wasn't looking for a job, Mrs. Spitz, I came to find some information, and Asher said you had a message for me.”

“You'll finish these, and then you'll start on the Mysteries section in the 001's with the books on Atlantis.” She shoved an armful of books into Hailey's chest. “Six hundred and eighty-seven books per case,” she said again, and then she walked away.

Hailey wasn't sure what to do, so she started shelving and counting and making sure each case had exactly six hundred and eighty-seven books. So began Hailey's first day as a part-time library clerk at Bear Towne University.

It took her two hours to sort out one case in the reference section, mostly because every time she started counting, a poltergeist would shout numbers at her, and she'd lose her place. Over and over and over.

Finally, she gave up and worked on her original mission, which was finding a book on ghost traps. “And you're the first ghost I'm going to lock up!” she called over her shoulder as she marched to the circulation desk.

There she encountered a problem. The place was deserted. There was no card catalog and no computer. Hailey slapped her hands against her legs and looked all around. How was she supposed to find a book in that place? Slumping into a wooden chair at a desk near the stacks, Hailey plopped her head against the bare wood of the table and squeezed her eyes shut.

When she opened them, she saw, unnervingly close to her face, a tiny inchworm.

Hailey bolted upright. “You're a bookworm, aren't you?”

The worm nodded.

“You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a good book on ghost traps, would you?”

The worm nodded again, inched itself together and like a pebble out of a sling-shot, it flew off the table toward the stacks, skidding to a halt only moments later on the desk in front of Hailey with two books in tow—
Modern Methods in Poltergeist Procurement
and
Techniques in Crystallic Ghost Trap Calibration.

“Perfect!” she said, and the worm bowed. “You got a name?”

The worm nodded and flipped open a stray book on the desk, tapping its nose against the name of the author—Matthew.

“Pleased to meet you, Matthew.”

The worm bowed again and inched away as Hailey headed to Mysteries.

She'd only just climbed the ladder with an armful of books when Fin appeared.

“Too bad you're not wearing a skirt,” he called up to her with a broad smile.

“Fin!”

“Hai—ley!” Mrs. Spitz called out.

She pumped her arms high as she took ridiculously long strides.

Fin gave her a wide berth.

“There are only six hundred and eighty-
five
books on that shelf!” She pointed emphatically toward Reference.

“I'll add another two when I'm finished here.”

“You'll add another two right now,” Mrs. Spitz countered.

“I'll only be ten minutes longer here . . .”

“Fix it now!” She stamped her foot.

“But . . .I'm on the tenth rung of this ladder . . .”

Like a three-year-old in a tantrum, Mrs. Spitz gnashed her teeth and let out an ear-piercing screech until Hailey climbed down and headed to Reference.

Fin followed, smirking, his shoulders silently quaking.

“Sometimes with Mrs. Spitz, you just have to shut up and color,” he said once the librarian was out of earshot.

“That woman is three kinds of crotchety.”

“That happens to zombies,” Fin said nonchalantly, and Hailey froze.

“Is she . . .?” Hailey couldn't bring herself to say the word.

“Yup. Mostly dead most of the time and all the way dead some of the time. She might be late to her funeral, but she's never late to work.”

“Bear Towne has a zombie librarian?”

Fin stepped back, looking sly. “You know how hard it is to find a good librarian these days?” he asked, and Hailey shook her head. “It's a dying profession,” he told her with a wry smile.

Hailey threw her arm out and pointed toward the circulation desk.

“Is she going to eat my brains?”

He shook his head. “You watch too much TV. You still wanna go into town with me tomorrow?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Alright, we'll hit whatever stores you need to pick up your  . . . necessities. Like a razor.”

Hailey gasped. He
had
noticed her tarantula legs!

“Oops,” he said checking his watch. “Gotta go. It doesn't look good when the team captain's late for practice.”

“You're the captain of the hockey team?”

Fink winked at her.

“Told you I was good.”

When Hailey got back to her room that night, she found a note on the floor just inside the door. With Fin on her mind, she grabbed it up and tore it open.

Giselle tsk'ed loudly from behind her magazine.

The envelope twitched. Then it bulged. And something that resembled a corpse hand emerged.

Hailey dropped the envelope and by the time it hit the floor, an arm and part of a shoulder were crawling out of the letter too.

Scared beyond the capacity to scream, Hailey backed away as a decomposing, hair-covered head followed. The corpse said nothing as it pushed in jerky movements with both hands on the floor, wiggling its torso and legs out of the parchment. It yanked its head up and looked Hailey dead in the eyes as it wriggled across the floor.

“Gi—Gi—Giselle!” She finally breathed, wild-eyed and shaking as a horrible, Holly-looking carcass inched closer, scowling and oozing black juices.

Hailey backed up against the window.

“The ghost trap isn't working!”

“Not a ghost,” said Giselle uninterested from behind her magazine.

“Wh—what is it?”

It slapped another hand on the floor and hauled its limp body forward.

“Ignore it, Hailey. It'll go away.”

But it didn't go away. It crept closer, and Hailey pressed herself against the glass.

“I can't ignore it . . . It looks like my sister!” She pulled her legs up and curled into a ball on the window sill.

Giselle got up, stepped around the monster, snatched the parchment off the floor, struck a match, lit the paper, and watched with her hand on her hip as the Holly-corpse ignited.

“Didn't your mother ever tell you not to open a Nasty Gram?” she scolded as Hailey watched the burning Holly-corpse through her fingers.

The thing spun around, waving its arms wildly, flinging tiny crescents of flame in all directions. One struck the picture hanging above Hailey's desk.

“No!” Hailey lunged to save it, but the picture was destroyed.

“Give it to me,” Giselle demanded snobbishly, holding out her hand as she rolled her eyes.