Page 29

“D o you keep up with hockey?” I ask Willa once we're settled in with our snacks and drinks. The game just started, and already the energy feels off, like it did the last game.

I keep my eyes on Roman and the guys, worried about the level of intensity this match will bring. If I'm right about the energy, it's not going to be fun. Don't get me wrong, I love watching them brawl while they play, don't we all? But this…this is different. It doesn't feel…fuck, what's the word…it doesn't feel natural.

Trying to avoid the uncomfortable and foreboding nagging at the back of my neck, I lean into conversation and snacks with Willa, who now also seems a bit on the distracted side.

We're both quiet for a moment, watching the game with the wind whipping around the arena. It almost feels as though even the fans can feel it this time. All around us is a foggy swelling of apprehension while the air closer to the rink is thick with the unnatural hostility.

“Please tell me you feel any of this,” I whisper to Willa, tossing in a nervous giggle in case I need to act like I was joking because I'm just letting my anxiety get the better of me.

Her eyebrows draw together in what I can't decide is either confusion, concentration, or irritation. “Unfortunately, I do.” Her dark eyes slowly begin to scan the crowd, Fran also now on high alert.

Releasing a startled scream when Benny is driven into the boards and scares the bajeezus out of me, also managing to startle Willa and Fran. They both jump and take battle stances, which causes us all to break into a fit of laughter among the mayhem. Our laughter is extinguished by gasps all around us.

We'd only stopped watching the game for a moment. I fear the worst, flinging myself around, searching for Roman's eyes until I find them staring directly at me, full of concern. When I finally notice one of the other team's players is laid out on the ice. He's convulsing, and there's a dark gray tint to his veins.

“Dark magic,” Willa seethes beside me through gritted teeth.

“What?!” I gasp, “Where? Why? How?” I can't stop my mouth.

Roman. Guys. Willa said it's dark magic.

Be careful! Stay with Fran. Roman fires back, obviously only hearing that there's a dark witch in the building, which means I could be in danger.

I internally roll my eyes while, beside me, Willa begins scanning the stands with more scrutiny while muttering under her breath.

The medics are on the ice trying to calm the player when another one goes down. The gasps erupt around us once more, joined by worried mutterings and a lot of what-the-fuck-is-going-on's. I want to ask Willa if she's getting anything or what we should do to help, but I don't want to interrupt her.

“There!” she yells at Fran, who launches into the aisle and flies up the stairs towards the unseeming blonde woman with her unblinking eyes locked on the rink.

I know it's not what I should be thinking right now, but that woman does not fit my mental image of a dark witch. When I think of a dark witch, I see the bad guys in a Harry Potter movie, or the ugly old witches in the Witches movie, or an old hag that dresses in all black with her fingers tipped in fading black skin. I did not expect to see someone who looks like…well, me. She's dressed similarly and perfectly blends in with the world. Do any paranormal creatures actually give themselves away?

I expect Fran to tackle her in a big dramatic moment, but instead, she steps in front of her, severing her line of sight to the men on the rink, and the men immediately stop convulsing. When the witch rises and acts like she's going to leave, Fran grabs her by the wrist, halting her movements, and looks to Willa, who immediately begins mumbling again, and the dark witch looks to faint.

“Remind me to never piss you off,” I try to joke, but Willa's face is serious.

“We only use our powers for good. As long as you aren't doing anything nefarious, I won't have to,” she snaps back seriously.

“I know…I just…never mind.”

I look out to the ice, and not only are the two previously convulsing men now rising to stand, but their entire team looks around at each other dumbfounded. Was the whole team spelled? Was that the reason for the strange energy and hostility? Was there a dark witch at the last game?

I have too many questions and not enough time to gather answers. The refs call more medics onto the ice to check out the players of the other team, as none of them seem to even know where they are. They can't very well finish a freaking hockey game if they're recovering from some kind of yucky spell they were put under.

But why?