Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (22 page)

“Why the hell not?”

He shot her a hard look. “No magic.”

Ella stared at him, stunned. “Are you saying...” She waved a hand in the air. “You were what, disinherited? Because for some reason you have no magic?”

Finn nodded. Iron charms chinked against his chest, hanging from a silver chain. She’d given them to him as soon as they’d left the motel —  protection against the Shades.

Well, if true, it made some sort of twisted sense. “I take it that it isn’t common for Boreals to lack magic?”

“It never happens.”

That didn’t sound good. “So what explanation is there?” A thought struck her. “Do other elves have magic? You know, those who aren’t royalty?”

“Some.” He squeezed the scrub sponge he held and soapy water dripped, soaking his pants. He didn’t seem to notice.

“And you?”

“I’ve got nothing.”

She realized she was gaping and closed her mouth, rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. Well, that was... interesting. If Finn told the truth. Come to think of it, wouldn’t she have noticed any signs of magic in the few days they’d known each other?

There had been one thing, though. “What about those reflective lines on your face and your hands?”

“Snow camouflage,” Finn said. “All of us living on the surface are born with it.”

“All of you?”

“All
Ljosaelfar
.” He let the sponge fall into the shower. “Light Elves.”

“But I saw the lines even when we were in my apartment, before it was burned down,” she pointed out.

“Fear.” He grimaced. “Brought the lines out.”

Fascinating
. And Finn was opening up, finally, the questioning glances he still sent her way intermingled with trusting ones. When he wasn’t busy glaring, of course.

Was he really telling her the truth? The whole truth?

Finn sat still a moment longer, then bent again over the shower stall, scrubbing furiously. Looked like he considered the conversation over.

A knock came on the apartment door and she went to answer it. It was Mike, bearing gifts — pots and pans, some blankets and sheets, old stuff his mother didn’t need. Obviously some people had a good relation with their parents. Go figure.

“Come on in.” She held the door open for him. “I’ve got some cookies.”

“Choc chip?”

“You bet.” Grinning, she led him inside.

And found Finn standing in the corridor, gun aimed. His gaze was blank and laser-sharp.

Mike opened his mouth and closed it, eyes round.

“You remember Mike, right?” Ella said, trying to figure out if Finn was all there or not. “My neighbor next door in the building the dragon burned down. An oracle. You saved his life.”

“Yes.” Mike nodded vigorously. “Thanks for that, man. Can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

Finn held the gun pointed for another endless moment, then lowered it, blinking. “Mike.”

“That’s right.” Ella approached Finn cautiously and plucked the gun from his hand. Yeah, they still had a lot of ground to cover regarding Finn’s past. “Let’s have some tea and cookies, we’ve been working all afternoon, what do you say?”

Finn nodded, glared at Mike who flinched, and went to wash his hands.

“What was that?” Mike asked.

“Flashbacks?” Ella shrugged. She put the kettle on and fished three mugs out of a cardboard box. She’d picked up a few things in a dollar shop. These ones had animals drawn on them. “Finn seems to have a military background.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

Ah, Mike, if you knew...
“Haven’t had a chance to ask him about it yet.”

“You don’t know much about him, but you moved in together?”

“Er.” She concentrated on pouring the water over the tea bags. “It’s not like that. It’s temporary. Until Finn gets his first salary and can rent his own place.” Or until the world ended. Whichever came first.

“So you guys really aren’t together?”

Ella carried the mugs to the bare basics living room — a threadbare couch Dave had donated and the old armchairs and scratched coffee table that came with the apartment — and sat. “No, we’re really not.”

Mike followed her. “Do you think then there’s any chance he swings the other way? Not that I’m interested. Scott is more my type.” Mike winked. “But, you know; if Finn isn’t into girls, then better to know from the start, right? Before you offer him your heart on a platter.”

“No chance of that,” Ella muttered absently.
Finn, gay?
She really couldn’t know, could she? He hadn’t given any indication as to his sexual preferences. Maybe he did swing Mike’s way. “I have no idea. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Finn chose that moment to enter. He glanced from her to Mike, tensing, brow furrowing. “What?”

“Here.” Mike smiled and pushed a mug with a dog drawing toward Finn. “Black tea. Sugar?”

Finn grunted. Mike went for the sugar pot but Finn beat him to it, glaring daggers. Mike drew back, paling.

“I guess not,” he said.

Finn’s scowl grew darker. “Not what?”

“Nothing,” Mike said in a small voice. “Ella and I were only wondering...”

Finn waited, a sugar cube in hand.

“If you take one or two sugars,” Ella offered.

Finn’s stare could cut through steel. “Three,” he said.

Ella blinked. Mike snorted, and the tension broke.

“Really?” she asked.

Finn shrugged. He did drop three cubes into his tea, though, so yeah, he wasn’t kidding. Was she surprised?
Nah
.

“How’s Missy?” Ella asked. Mike had taken the kitten in until Miss Meow got used to having Finn around. So far it had been a hate-hate relationship, all on Missy’s side. Finn didn’t seem to care.

“Shredding my furniture. Peeing in the corners. Well, I guess.”

Ella winced, but Mike didn’t really seem put out. “It’s temporary,” she said.

“Like your partnership with Finn here?” Mike raised a brow and grinned.

Heat rose to her face.

Finn drank his tea and ate a cookie, staring intently at the door. Maybe he was thinking of new charms to add to the apartment protection. Always so focused. Maybe he was asexual. Who knew how the minds and bodies of elves worked?

“And Scott?” Ella asked.

“He’s been great.” Mike’s grin turned into a soft smile. “I know, I complained about him before, but he’s...” He shook his head. “He’s amazing. So supportive and... I’m glad he’s here.”

At least some things had turned out fine in the world. Ella smiled in her mug. Now only an elvish invasion with scaled wolves and snow dragons to worry about and thwart.

Piece of cake
.

Chapter Two

Spirals

“There’s a lull in the Shade attacks,” Dave said, turning away from his computer screen. “We don’t know what it means. Maybe the elves are preparing for the invasion, grouping their forces.”

“Maybe they’re still testing the Gates.”

Dave nodded. “I hope it all crashes down on their heads while we organize the defense. There’s a base outside town and the military are moving troops and arms there as we speak. We may need to evacuate the whole area soon. Meanwhile...” He shuffled a few papers on his desk. “How’s your partner?” He opened a case file and flipped a page, then took a sip from his mug. He looked up when she didn’t answer immediately. “What is it?”

“He’s fine.” She hastened to smile. It had been three days now since the dragon incident. “Much better than before. Doctor said he was good.” No doctor had been consulted, of course; she couldn’t risk it. “You should see the new apartment. The sofa you sent us is really comfy.”

Dave nodded. “Glad I could help.”

The office smelled as usual of carpet shampoo and a herbal perfume she’d come to associate with Dave. His cologne, perhaps.

“Why did you call me here today?” Ella sank in a chair and stretched, vertebrae popping in her spine. “No attacks, right?”

“The Shades are still active, but the wolves haven’t made an appearance, and no sign of dragons.”

“Good.” She cocked her head to the side. “So, what is it?” Finn was waiting outside, and she could picture him as she’d left him, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest, a glare that could melt metal.

She wanted Dave to see Finn as little as possible. Despite Dave’s mellowing after their meeting at the motel, she feared he’d be able to tell Finn was
aelfr
. He wasn’t distracted by male beauty like she was, and Finn was... ‘eye-candy’ didn’t begin to cover it.

“Simon,” Dave said, and that snapped her back to attention. “We found something odd in his electronic files.”

Ella sat up. “Anything about John Grey?” The book she’d taken from the library weighed her bag, propped by her feet. She hadn’t had a chance to read through the whole of it, but after the mention of spirals the story had degenerated into list of gifts the elves had brought and songs sung by King Sirurd’s drunken guests.

“No.” Dave pursed his lips. “But there was something else. Something about you.”

“Me?” Ella stared at him, mind blanking. Well, Simon had marked the word “spirals” in the book and had scribbled her name next to it, in the margin, but it had only made her wonder how he’d known about her dreams. The book was obviously important because it told of John Grey, and it might contain information about him. Which she hadn’t found yet, but still.

“What can you tell me,” Dave watched her intently, “about your early childhood?”

Shocked, she leaned back in her chair, putting distance between them. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, her pulse echoing inside her every limb. She thought she saw spirals turning inside Dave’s head, shiny cogwheels. She thought she saw a hand coming to cup her face.

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath, held it. Let it out.

“Ella?”

With an effort she looked back at Dave. There were no wheels, of course, and he watched her as if she was an animal about to run. She
wanted
to run. Was that how Finn felt all the time? “I don’t remember anything.”

“That can’t be true,” Dave said, steepling his fingers on the desk. “At least from a certain age upward, when you were four or five.”

“Dave, I don’t. I swear.” It was ridiculous, but a weight crushed her chest, constricted her breathing. Was she about to have a panic attack? “I can’t remember anything.”

He frowned. “So when do your memories start?”

“Around age seven, I think.” Strange, yes, but they’d talked about this with the psychologist many times over. Childhood trauma of some sort, though they hadn’t been able to pinpoint the cause. She realized she was gripping the armrests and she unclenched her fingers. “Why the questions, Dave? What did you find in Simon’s files?”

“What do you know about those years you don’t remember? What do your parents say?”

She shrugged. Her back muscles were so tense the movement hurt. “Nothing special. Mother said I was a quiet child. Then I started having nightmares, and seeing things that weren’t there. Shades, I guess. Then I would scream that the monsters had come to get me. They took me to psychologists, shrinks and all the like. She said...” Funny how the memory of it still hurt. “Said I broke up our family.”

Dave sighed, rearranged the papers on his desk. “Well, it’s odd,” he said, drawing out the words, “an odd coincidence, I mean, that Simon should know more about your past than you do.”

Ella bit her lip. “I only met Simon when I came to the Bureau two years ago.”

“Exactly my point. But he obviously knew you long before that.”

It made no sense. “Wait a sec. He knew me before? During the time I don’t remember?” But why hadn’t he ever mentioned it?

Her head hurt.

“He kept a sort of diary,” Dave said, clicking on a folder on his computer screen. “An observation log.”

“Of me?” Could things get any weirder?

“Yes. Apparently he watched you grow up, and took notes. On occasion, he met you.”

He did?
“Notes about what?”

“Your abilities, and I quote.” He squinted at the screen. “Ella’s abilities are growing, but she’s starting to fight them and refuses to see.”

“See what? I don’t understand.” She rubbed her temples. “Of course I saw Shades, but I’m hardly unique in that. Does he explain?”

Dave shook his head. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

“Well, I have no clue.” She leaned forward. “Instead of asking me these things, shouldn’t we be asking ourselves who the hell Simon was?”

 “I don’t know that, but I have my suspicions.” He rubbed his eyes. “I will let you in, but this is classified information, agent, so let’s keep this between us.” He pulled a folder, opened it, pulled out a page and pushed it toward her.

She took it, glanced at the logo at the top. A clock. Spirals and cogs.
Damn
. “What’s this?” She scanned the text below, a list of clauses. “An organization for the protection of... the Gates?”

Dave nodded, tight-lipped and somber.

“Simon belonged to it?”

“I don’t know who Simon was, or who he worked for. I, however, have belonged to this organization for a long time.”

Since he was a baby, most probably. She couldn’t imagine Dave being anything but adult, grey-haired and capable.
Talking of babies...
“How is it possible Simon was keeping a diary about me when I was little? I thought Simon was roughly my age.” Had never seen his ID, but he’d looked young.

“I thought so too,” Dave said, eyes darkening. “Ella, look, nothing is certain, but the evidence—”

She raised a hand.
Right
. The evidence screamed at her that she hadn’t known Simon; that Simon had been something other than her best friend and partner. Other than human. “Why wasn’t I aware of this organization before?”

“Because secret organizations are like that.”

Oh, more secrets. Lovely
. “Right. You’re a member of a super secret club protecting the Gates — and not very ineffectively, as it appears.”

“The organization has existed for centuries, ever since the last recorded appearance of the elves, back in the Middle Ages.”

“Great. Really happy for you, Dave, I hope it’s been fun.” She shook the piece of paper at him. “The connection to Simon?”

“Not everyone is against the opening of the damn Gates, Ella.” Dave was humming again, that annoying high-pitched noise. Was he grinding his teeth?

“You’re saying Simon was pro-elf or something?” Like she was. Sort of.
Pro-Finn
.

Dave shrugged. “All I’m saying is that we need to trust each other. Anything you may know that could help us find John Grey or close the Gates...”

He left it hanging. And it rang so much like what she’d said to Sarah, Simon’s girlfriend, at the hospital, it made her uneasy. And then Sarah’s words leaped to her mind.
Guardians
, she’d said.
Linked to you, since you were a child
.

“Simon must have sought you out with a purpose,” Dave said, as if reading her thoughts. “What if your abilities have to do with what’s coming?” He leaned toward her. “You have strange dreams, don’t you? Memories from your childhood.”

Ella flinched. “No.” She tried to calm herself. “Nightmares. That’s all.” A man’s face, the feeling of being ripped away from all she knew, all that was safe. “Did Simon write about that, too?”

“No. You can trust me, Ella. If you have some other ability, maybe you can help us—”

“Dammit, Dave, I said I have no clue what he was talking about. You talk of trust. Tell me what you know about this creature, this Grey guy.”

Dave scowled. “Few documents survived since that time. I’ve looked everywhere, searched all archives and libraries and private collections. Our members unearthed every document they could find, paying mind-blowing sums, to assemble every scrap of evidence we have about John Grey.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “So you’ll excuse me if I’m frustrated here. All my life I’ve been trying to figure out what it is we’re after, and keep coming up blank. I do know the elves found John Grey and kept him safe and hidden. A human? A Dark elf? In the epics, the Boreals sure don’t talk as if he’s one of them.”

That made sense.

“And if he’s a Dark elf? What do they look like? Are they dark skinned?” Finn was a Light elf. Light elves were obviously tall and pale with pointed ears.
Logical
.

“No, not at all.” Dave frowned. “Dark elves are just...different.” He shifted, looking uncomfortable.

“Different how?” Did she have to wring his arm behind his back to get a straight answer?

“Elves belong to two distinct races. They had a common ancestor, of course, similar to ours. But they developed from two different forms and didn’t intermarry much.”

“Are you saying... what? Dark elves have what, horns? Tails? Striped skin?”

“Wings,” Dave said.

A hysterical giggle rose to Ella’s lips. She smothered it. “Wings. You serious?”

Dave’s brows drew together in a dark scowl that could have competed with Finn’s. “Do you see me laughing?”

“Okay.”
Wings. Damn
. Of course, after the dragons, nothing should have the power to surprise her anymore.

“They also have strong magic. Very strong.”

Whatever that meant. It was like trying to picture a color you couldn’t see. “And why did you wait so long to tell me all this?”

“Because we were sure the Gates weren’t about to open. Because we looked and searched but it seemed like John Grey was gone and the elves locked out of our world. Because there was no need.”

She considered standing up and leaving. Punching her boss really wasn’t a good idea. “I wasn’t talking about the years you spent looking. I meant since the Shades began their attacks, since Simon died, and since the wolves and the dragon came through! Christ, Dave.”

“Apologies.” He was still humming. Strung as a wire. He leaned forward, his eyes searching hers. “Please. Talk to me. Anything unusual you remember, anything you noticed... ”

Could she trust him? He was finally talking to her, taking her into his confidence. Maybe it was time to tell Dave about the book, and about Finn. She’d held back because she thought Simon didn’t trust him, but Simon hadn’t been who he’d seemed.

She opened her mouth to speak, when a creak and whine sounded from behind her, then steps.

Ella jerked around as Dave said, “What the hell are
you
doing here?”

Finn stood inside the office, hands on the hilts of his knives. Head bent forward, he gazed steadily back at Dave, pale hair half-obscuring his face.

“Finn? What is it?”

“I don’t feel so well,” Finn muttered. “Let’s go.”

Ella jumped to her feet. For Finn to admit to it, it had to be pretty bad. “Sit down, I’ll—”