Hate

by Gemma Brocato

Leaving her alone with Phillip. He put his hand on her arm and levitated, lifting her feet from the ground. Although having partisans was a new experience for all the Muses, the guardians had been around for every one of the existences. His life cycles mimicked hers.

  “You up for this?” he asked.

  Phillip dragged her into the Hollow for the return trip to her house while she mulled over the question. He’d be moving in, which might be tough to explain to Bernie, since they hadn’t been involved in any way except as co-workers. Was she up for that? She was skeptical.

  But then, she doubted any of her sisters would ever be prepared. She only knew she had to do her best, not just to save the world from Hate, but to save her father.

  Eight

  “For the love of all that’s holy, could you shut the hell up for a minute?” Finn shot an angry glare at Anse, then dropped his forehead to his folded hands. His sinuses stung with the aroma of burned coffee wafting from a cup next to his elbow.

  “Sorry.” Anson didn’t sound the least bit contrite.

  Finn knew he was being a moody SOB, but the headache he’d woken up with this morning was worse than the never-ending song Lily Winstead’s boys sang when they wanted to torment him. It just kept on going.

  The churn in his gut eclipsed the pounding in his head. Something bad happened last night. Something he couldn’t exactly remember. It was like an entire segment of his life had disappeared. Normally, his blackouts left residual anxiety, but never fear. And he was definitely afraid. He couldn’t remember leaving his Bronco at the Rowan. He’d found his gun safe, his keys. There was a note about the vehicle, in handwriting he didn’t recognize, on the table in his living room. Someone had looked after him last night.

  Squeezing his eyes together, he shoveled through the sludge of his memories. Slowly, Aerie Thanos’s face came into focus. Just thinking of Aerie caused calm to zip over his jangled nerve endings. The banging in his head eased a bit, but an entirely different portion of his anatomy took up the cadence.

  The image of some old geezer popped into his brain, startling him. The old guy had made Aerie angry. Finn remembered going to the rescue.

  More of last night coalesced in his muddy brain. She’d driven him home. He recalled bits of their conversation and racing into the house so she couldn’t witness his slipping into the darkness.

  Had she gone? Or had she stayed? He certainly didn’t remember removing his shoes or crawling, fully clothed, between the sheets. The full bottle of water he found on the nightstand had been a godsend this morning.

  Finn groaned as guilt riddled him. He vaguely remembered getting a little rough with Aerie, but so much of the memory seemed blocked behind a brick wall. He couldn’t be sure it had happened, or if he only wished it had.

  One thing was apparent…he owed her an apology.

  For something.

  For everything.

  Something plopped and rattled on the desk next to him. “Hey, Finn. We got a call.”

  He jerked his head toward the noise to find Anson had tossed a travel-sized bottle of aspirin across the aisle. A bottle of water dangled between his fingers, and the second Finn straightened he chucked it toward him. Reflexively Finn grabbed for it.

  Anse indicated the pain reliever. “Take three and don’t let Barber catch you hung over.”

  “I don’t have a hangover.” Body still tense, Finn mumbled as he shoved to his feet. “Confused, yes, but not hung over. What do we have?” He opened a drawer and drew out his gun and badge.

  Anson studied him for a beat, lips pursed as if he was trying really hard to keep a comment to himself. Finally, he replied, “Some kind of demonstration on the square has gotten out of hand.”

  Finn clipped his badge to his belt and secured his firearm in the shoulder holster. “I’ll drive.”

  It took less than five minutes to go between the station and the square, and that was without excessive speed. Anse filled in the scant details he knew. A peaceful demonstration about a pending law on motorcycle helmets. A group of bikers who didn’t think protective headgear was a good idea had shown up and began rousing the rabble.

  Finn parked haphazardly in the middle of the street, behind a couple of squad cars. He followed Anse at a jog across the square toward a group of jeans, bandanas, and biker-booted protesters who’d cornered about five people against one of the shops. A metal grate had been pulled down in front of the shop, like the owners expected looting.

  Finn prayed it wouldn’t get to that. His aversion to crowds escalated as they approached. He was willing to let Anse take the lead on this situation.

  Uniformed officers had infiltrated the space between the two groups, and stood sentry.

  Anson swept his coat back over his hip, revealing his badge. He stepped right up into the space of the biggest goon. “Back off, man. This is a peaceful demonstration. What’s your beef with these ladies?”

  That was when Finn noticed every one of the demonstrators was female. And more than middle-aged. Sick agitation grew in his gut. He signaled the line of officers to take one step forward, crowding out the bikers. From the corner of his eye, he caught movement above the shop’s awning. A large black and white bird settled on the overhang. The menacing sight made everything within Finn draw taut.

  Goon One answered. “They’re advocating a mandatory helmet law. That would infringe on our freedom. We ain’t having it. No one, not even little old, blue-haired ladies, get to tell us what to wear when we ride.”

  “Who you calling old lady?” The snarled response came from a woman wearing sensible shoes and a floral blouse, with more salt in her hair than pepper. She brushed up against the officer in front of her as if she’d charge right through the line to go after Goon One in a heartbeat.

  A sudden tightening in his chest distracted him from Anse’s hold-on gestures, and his attempts to settle both parties down.

  Ah fuck! Not now. Not on a call in front of witnesses and…oh shit. Of course the media picks now to roll in. The red-headed chick from Channel 7 marched their direction. Finn clamped his jaws together hard enough to splinter his back teeth, and fought to keep his shit together. He’d never had a fugue in front of this many people.

  Finn sucked in a massive breath, more than enough to fill his lungs. The invisible constricting bands around his chest popped like bubble wrap. Which was weird, because he’d never been able to break free of the darkness so quickly.

  As the tightness abated, he noted movement down the street at the alley entrance by the Daily Grind coffee shop. Aerie Thanos stepped onto the street and froze. Phillip Whatshisname, the Viking photographer, followed so closely he smacked right into her back. He braced one hand on her shoulders and the other tangled in the bright red hair at her nape, and crowded close behind her, his lips hovering near her ear.

  A stab of emotion pierced Finn’s chest as he observed their lover-like stance. Although Aerie stared at the bird on the awning, only her lips moved, like she was blowing a kiss, as she swept her gaze over the crowd.

  Shifting his attention back to the situation with the demonstration, shock overcame everything else. The two groups had quieted and to his surprise, were smiling and chatting across the line of still-tense uniformed officers standing between them.

  “So, you all think you can live together?” Anson asked with his brows raised, as if challenging them to respond in any way except the positive. “Next thing I know you’ll be barbecuing or holding a bake sale together.”

  Goon One threw his head back and laughed. “Good one, Detective. A bake sale would be awesome. All those sweets to calm the munchies.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together and held them against his lips, sucking in a noisy breath.

  The older ladies across the line from them giggled at his imitation of what it took to get high. “As long as you wear a helmet while you’re chowing down,” Salt and Pepper piped up.

  Slowly, without further incident, the groups dispersed. Anse swept a glance around the squa
re, skipping over Aerie and the photographer, then jerking back to them. He lifted his chin, acknowledging them, and squinted his eyes. Finn got the sensation they were communicating somehow. The sound of a throat being cleared made him swivel his head.

  “Detective Finnegan? Polly Thanos, Channel 7 News. Can we get a statement?” The TV reporter shoved a microphone in Finn’s face.

  “Thanos? Are you related to Aerie Thanos?”

  “She’s my sister. You know her?” Polly replied. There was a speculative look in her eyes.

  Finn nodded then deflected any further questions. “Um, you’d better talk to Detective Elwood. He handled this little misunderstanding.” Finn gestured toward Anson and ducked his head.

  The atmosphere constricted around his body once more, and he tensed, but the sensation diminished immediately. So damn different than he’d ever experienced. Maybe he was finally achieving some sort of control over the darkness. Eying the cameraman balancing the video recorder on his shoulder, Finn silently breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t blacked out.

  Anticipating another burst of negative emotion, Finn turned to locate Aerie. While he still felt the urge to apologize for something, he did not look forward to seeing her holding hands or snuggled in the arms of the photographer.

  They’d both vanished. He scanned the sidewalks and the passing cars to see if they were moving away, but didn’t locate them. In ten seconds, he was across the street, studying the interior of the coffee shop. They weren’t among the other patrons. Next, he checked the alleyway, finding it as empty as his soul had felt in the months before…shit, before he’d met Aerie. There was a thought he didn’t deserve to explore.

  Steps dragging, he trudged back to Anson, who’d just finished speaking to the reporter. She spared him a final glance before following her cameraman toward the news van parked across the square.

  Anson scratched his head. “That was the weirdest riot call we’ve ever been on.”

  “Only riot call we’ve ever been on. This is Delphi, remember?” There was never much activity in the sleepy university town. Well, except students drunk and disorderly, and the all-too frequent domestic violence call.

  “You seemed a little distracted.”

  “Got a lot of shit on my mind.” Mostly a pretty red-head he might have offended last night. The only clear way to know was to go talk to her. “Let’s get back to the station and file our report. I have an errand to run.”

  “You need company?” Anson arched his brow.

  “Not on this one. But you want to hit the Olympiad after our shift?” A work out at the gym would be better than a visit to the bar, which was his first choice.

  The report had taken longer than he’d anticipated, and it was nearly four before Finn parked in front of the modified carriage house where Dearly Beloved was located. Part of him chuckled over the absurd business name, but some small section of him wondered if he’d ever hear those words being spoken about himself. Never wanted them before, not with his childhood history. He tucked away the stupid wish, and the unwelcome thoughts about his family’s betrayal. He stepped out of the Bronco, hesitating a moment by the open door. At the end of a cobblestone walkway was a brightly painted blue door with a big wedding flower-style wreath. Skirting the front end of his vehicle, he wandered up the path, mentally rehearsing an apology for an offense he didn’t remember.

  A chime sounded as he pushed open the door and entered a cheery waiting room. The office space encompassed one half of the house. The other half must be another business. Aerie’s front office was tastefully decorated, calm and sedate.

  “Oh, Detective Finnegan.” Aerie’s voice held a sharp edge. She paused in the doorway to an office, her eyes sparking glacial blue. Behind her, the sound of people chatting filtered out to the front room. She lifted her shoulders toward her ears, and twined her hands together. “I wasn’t expecting you. I, uh…I’m just finishing up with a client. Have a seat, I’ll be right with you.”

  He did as instructed and sat in one of the straight wooden chairs lining one wall, the one spot in the room that afforded a view of all the windows and points of entry. An unoccupied desk stood in one corner, a colorful stained-glass lamp casting soft light across the surface. The wall opposite him was filled with photos of weddings, receptions, smiling families, and lots of smooching people. Happy pictures from happy days.

  Finn averted his gaze, lighting on the low table in front of him. With only bride magazines to distract him, he slipped his phone from the breast pocket of his blazer. Before he could open his email app, a sharp young voice called out.

  “Finn!” Scott Winstead barreled across the lobby and hurled himself into Finn’s arms. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to speak to Ms. Thanos.” Finn tipped his head and drew his brows together. “What are you doing here?”

  “We’re getting married!” Sam joined his brother in a group hug.

  “Hi, Finn.” Lily strolled forward, holding Rod’s hand. “I haven’t seen you for a week or so. Rod and I got engaged.” She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. A honking big diamond winked in the glare of the overhead lighting.

  The smile on her lips, the contentment and emotion shining on her face, and the faces of her boys, convinced Finn this was a wonderful thing.

  Wrapping one arm around her shoulders, he kept his other arm around the two boys clinging to his waist. “That’s fantastic news.” He really couldn’t be happier. Over Lily’s head, he caught Rod’s eye. “Congratulations, man.” He let go of the man’s soon-to-be family and stuck out his hand.

  Rod’s grip was firm and confident. “We’re all pretty excited about our future. I just want to thank you for taking care of Lily and the boys until I found them.”

  “It was nothing. You guys are going to be great together.” He turned his attention to the kids again. “Looks like we’re going to need to invite Rod on the camping trip we planned, huh?”

  He sat in the chair and the boys flanked him, one on each side. Scott dipped his chin. “You wouldn’t mind if he comes?”

  “Nah. The more the merrier. We’ll have to be sure he knows all your favorite ghost stories and the best way to build a fire. I think having him along will be a fine idea. You up for it, Rod?” Finn glanced at the boys’ future stepdad.

  Rod’s eyes twinkled. “I love to camp. When are we going?”

  It was nice to see him being enthusiastic about the kids Finn had grown so attached to. Their real dad hadn’t ever expressed an interest in the boys after the last time Finn had warned him against harming them or their mother.

  Rod turned away to join a conversation with Lily and Aerie. Finn was surprised to see the icy quality of Aerie’s eyes had softened as she pinned her gaze on him. Almost like she approved. In the center of his chest, a glow bloomed, canceling out the darkness that seemed to follow him everywhere these days. Finn tuned back into Scott and Sam’s chatter about the equipment list for the prospective camping trip.

  The Winsteads and Rod excused themselves and left, looking every bit the cohesive, fully normal family. It warmed something deep within Finn to witness it, knowing just a year ago, when they’d moved in next door, Lily and the kids had been timid and broken. Every once in while, karma came around dressed in sunshine and happiness.

  “How can I help you, Detective?” The sharp edge was back in Aerie’s voice.

  Before he could answer, the front door chimes tinkled and Phillip Cantrell scooted into the room. He stopped short when he caught sight of Finn, but then crowded in against Aerie.

  Finn didn’t like the protective gesture nor the insane amount of anger he felt for the man. He sure as shit wasn’t going to apologize to Aerie in front of Phillip.

  He shoved his unexplainable emotions aside. He tipped his head toward Aerie. “May I speak to you privately?”

  Aerie indicated her office. “Go on through. I’ll be there in a second.”

  Phillip urgently whispered at Aerie as Finn ente
red the office. He only caught snippets of the man’s words, but it was most definitely a warning for Aerie to be careful. The idea weighed heavier than a boulder…that she might be afraid he’d do something stupid, like blackout and get aggressive with her.

  He sawed in a couple of ragged breaths and took a seat across the desk, waiting for her to join him.

  Now, if he could just get his mind off how pretty she was, and how he’d like to know her more intimately, he could focus on delivering an apology to a woman who was involved with another man.

  Nine

  Aerie cautiously entered the office, closing the door behind her, but stopping it short of latching. Knowing Phillip had taken a seat at the desk to wait, and had already dialed Mars’s cell phone helped ease her looming sense of disquiet. After all, she was the love Muse. A kiss blown by her was capable of calming wild beasts. A single thought directed at the not-so-peaceful demonstrators on the square this morning had stopped the unruly clash in its tracks. She should be able to handle one grumpy police detective.

  He eyed her as she slipped behind her desk. To be honest with herself, she didn’t hate the scrutiny. Once she’d settled in her chair, she hit him with an expectant arch of her eyebrow.

  “I think I owe you an apology.” He looked a little lost as he scrubbed his knuckles over the stubble on his jaw. His expression hinted at confusion.

  “For what?” Aerie leaned forward to rest her elbows on the desk. She propped her chin on her fists and waited.

  “That’s what’s weird. I’m not one hundred percent sure. But I have a memory of us together last night.”

  Oh Hades! Mnemosyne’s spell must not have been strong enough to completely erase his memories. This had the potential to go south for her in a big way.

  Finn continued, his eyes dark and filled with regret. “I… When I experience strong emotion, I tend to lose blocks of time. I recall seeing you at the Rowan with some old geezer and I thought you were frightened. But I’d been drinking and it’s possible I’d gone to a dark place. If I harmed you, or scared you, I am deeply sorry.” He dropped his chin to his chest and a harsh breath burst free.