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Blake and I hadn’t spoken a word to each other. He hadn’t even talked trash like he usually did. Yet there had been an understanding between us as we went at each other on the ice. We were out for blood. I didn’t need to know what Blake knew or what he intended.
We pretty much wanted to kill each other.
Even given our ongoing rivalry with The Fangs I’d always at least put up the pretense of keeping it focused on the game. There had been run-ins off the ice between players, sure. That was difficult to avoid with shifters in a feud and living in towns next door to each other.
But now the game was incidental. At least to me. Which was probably why The Cougars were losing. I wasn’t focused and therefore the other guys weren’t focused either. As alpha and captain of the team, it was my job to keep them on task and I was failing and I really didn’t care.
All I cared about was the way Blake had shot that look straight at Chloe in the stands. It made me want to murder him. I knew he was after me to get to her. I didn’t know the whole story and I didn’t need to.
When Blake and I were let out of the penalty boxes, I was intending to go after him again, the game be damned. But all at once, I could barely skate at all.
It was like I’d suddenly been hit by a terrible fever as I scared out of the box. I felt dizzy and overheated. I felt a strange kind of tingling vibration in my muscles. My whole body was weak and I could hardly keep myself upright, the skates under me suddenly feeling awkward and strange when I’d grown up on them and they were as much a part of me as my lion’s paws or my human feet.
My vision blurred. I was trying to keep up but I was skating so badly, it was purely a matter of pride. I couldn’t imagine what had come over me. I’d felt fine all day. I’d barely ever been sick my whole life which was common for shifters. We weren’t nearly so fragile as humans who were always getting colds and flus. But now I was sweaty and achy and sluggish. If this was what humans dealt with when they were sick, I suddenly had much more sympathy for humans.
“Are you okay?” That was Miguel, or at least I was pretty sure it was. He’d skated up next to me and now he was looking at me from under the visor of his helmet. Everything was blurred and doubled up. I think I groaned in response and then staggered off.
I wasn’t exactly thinking straight or I would have told him something was wrong. In my mind, I wanted to. I felt like my thoughts were racing around, exhausting me. I couldn’t catch one long enough to turn it into action.
Stop.
Help.
Must stop...
Blake and a couple other players skated into me, just casually enough for it not to look like deliberate since I should have easily skated out of their way. But I couldn’t think coherently much less move fast enough to get out of their way and I went slamming painfully into the wall, groaning.
“Goddammit!” That was Miguel, trying to come to my rescue. I pushed the guys away from me and skating was like moving with buckets of cement tied to my feet.
I didn’t even know where I was going.
“What the hell...” I thought that was Charlie’s voice but I wasn’t sure.
I thought I was skating the wrong away, far from the others where they were chasing one of my guys to the Fangs’ goal. Instead I was headed to Dylan and everything felt foggy and unreal. I wasn’t even sure I was awake anymore. It felt like I’d been knocked out and I was only dreaming.
I swore I could hear Chloe calling for me from somewhere. But I didn’t know what she was saying. I could hear the crowd, shouting, sounding as confused as I felt. I could hear the guys, yelling for me to turn the other way.
Blake was coming.
Blake had the puck.
I dimly thought that was bad, and now he was headed straight towards me.
“Luca, move!” Dylan was shouting but the sound was dulled. It was like hearing music through a wall. “LUCA! MOVE!”
But I didn’t move. In fact I hunched down low and it all seemed to be happening so slowly as Blake took a powerful swing. I knew just how hard Blake could hit a puck. I’d been playing him for a few years now. I watched it, blinking dumbly, completely unable to control my body and get away.
The puck was coming straight for my face.
I thought I could hear Chloe yelling somewhere.
The puck hit me right in the head and the shock and force of it instantly put me on the ground. I could hear the crowd yell. I couldn’t think but later I imagined they must have thought I was just an idiot, skating directly into the line of a shot like that, baring my face where it was unprotected from the helmet. It was like I was trying to get hit.
It was like I had no control.
Dark magic, I thought dimly as I hit the ice. The pain took a minute to hit and when it did, it was like thunder. I felt a terrible, sharp pressure on my fingers through my thick gloves. Blake had nearly skated over my hand. Then I heard shouting, hoots, and boos. Everyone was mad at Blake. I was pretty sure even his own pride was mad at Blake. I wondered if anyone else had seen the dark magic for what it was.
I was passing out, the world going dark around me, but now I realized that tingling vibration I’d felt had been magic hitting me. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything like that. I just hadn’t realized it at the moment. I’d been hexed.
I lost consciousness wondering how the hell Blake had pulled that off.
