Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (30 page)

A whimper, a muffled cry.

Ella swung her legs off the bed.
Finn
. Grabbing her gun from the chair, she slunk to the door. The floor was so cold it numbed her bare feet, and her legs trembled in the thin pajamas.

Pausing in the doorway, she took aim. Nothing moved in the hall. Finn’s door was half-open. She nudged it with her foot and stepped inside.

Thin strips of white light fell through the window slats — the moon was out. The room was empty but for the lump under the covers that had to be Finn. Stepping around the bed, she stopped by the window, her gun gripped tight.

Finn shifted, a muffled groan leaving his lips. He kicked at the blankets, his body tensing, hands clutching at nothing.

Looked like she wasn’t the only one with nightmares.

“Hey.” Lowering the gun, she stepped closer. Pain didn’t allow for good rest. She should’ve offered painkillers but it had been the last thing on her mind when she’d left his room that evening. “Wake up. You’re okay.” Leaning over, she shook him. “Finn!”

He jerked backward, sitting up. She hunted for the lamp and turned on the light.

Finn wasn’t looking at her. He stared down at his leg, his eyes wide and terrified, his breathing harsh in the quiet. What the hell was going on?

“Finn, talk to me.”
You’re scaring me
. “What’s wrong?”

He grimaced as if in pain and stretched out his leg — his bad leg, she realized, seeing the outline of the knee band through the thin material of his pants. “Did you hurt it yesterday?”

Finn lifted his hand and let it hover over his leg, his face pale, breathing still coming hard and fast. He hadn’t put on a shirt and the lamp light picked out every bruise and cut. “
Blod
,” he said, voice thin.

“Blood? Where?” She sat down next to him, cast the light on his leg and frowned. The grey cloth was clean and spotless. “There’s nothing, Finn, you’re fine.”

“
Minn bein
,” Finn muttered, and then something that sounded more like the humming of a song.

“
Bein
.”
Old Norse again?
“What happened to English, huh?” She rifled through the words she knew. “What about your bone?”

Finn was staring at his leg as if... as if the bone stuck out.

Oh, shit
. Looked like not all Finn’s flashbacks had to do with the army. Was he even awake?

“Look, I’ll...”
What?
She put down the flashlight to illuminate her movements and smiled at Finn. A flash of inspiration struck her right between the eyes. “It’s all right. I’ll take care of it.”

Reaching out cautiously, she placed a hand on Finn’s thigh. He flinched but she did her best to ignore it. “I’ve stopped the bleeding, see?”

Finn’s nod was uncertain but after a moment his shoulders started to relax.

“Now...” She moved her hand down to the knee and pressed. “Setting the bone.” She moved her hand down, smoothing over the ragged scar she knew lay below the cloth. “Okay?”

Finn’s eyes tracked her movements. Another beat of silence, and he leaned back, propping himself on his elbows. His breathing slowed.

“You’ll be fine,” Ella said, keeping her voice low. “You just need to sleep now.”

He didn’t resist when she pushed him flat on his back. “Ella,” he murmured.

He knew who she was even though he didn’t know where or when he was. Her heart was melting into a puddle.

“I’m right here.” She should just walk out, go back to bed. He was all right. She pulled the covers up to his chest and patted them. “You’re okay.”

“Please,” he whispered, and she looked up.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to go back.” His eyes were slits of blue. “Don’t let them take me.”

Her heart did a little flip-over in her chest. “I’ll do my best.” Because how could she promise him that when they both knew the Shades could leap out of the Grey at any moment and drag him through? But he was asking, the fear still plain to see on his face, and he was hers to protect and keep safe. “Go back to sleep.”

He shivered and squeezed his eyes shut, lips white, pressed in a line.

And that was it. Resistance was futile. She placed the gun on the floor and sat beside him on the bed.

“I’m here. I won’t let anyone take you.”

He reached for her and she climbed into the bed with him, resting her head on his chest, bruises and all. He clasped her close, and she drew up the covers. He was warm and solid, and his heart thumped steadily under her ear. His arms enclosed her, and as she started to relax, his body lost its rigidity and he molded against her, his chin coming to rest on top of her head. Scent of spice and sugar, filling the world.

She sighed, content, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Seven

Torn

Warm. Safe. Quiet. Sunlight fell in golden lines through the blinds, striping the broad bare back she held onto. On one shoulder, a dark starburst caught her eye. A birthmark. Her fingers moved on his side, and found gauze taped in place. She buried her nose in silky, pale hair and inhaled its sweetness, laced with a hint of musk and spice.
Mmmm, nice
. A dark-tipped ear poked out of the pale hair, pointed like a cat’s.

Finn
. She blinked. The night’s events rushed back. That wasn’t her room. She was in Finn’s bed.

Uh oh
.

Gently she drew back. Still dressed in her pajamas.
Oh, good
. Not that she hadn’t imagined what it would be like to make out with Finn. There were moments it was all she could think about. But however she looked at it, it seemed a royally bad idea.

Extricating herself from the knot of covers, she was about to leave the bed when Finn stirred. She hesitated. Go or watch him wake?

Decisions, decisions...
And she found she couldn’t take her eyes off him. It was a guilty pleasure — yet another.
Indulging a lot these days, Ella
.

Kneeling on the mattress, she waited as he let out a puff of air and rolled on his back, tensing, then relaxing when he saw her. She saw the moment his eyes softened and he smiled.

Breathtaking
.

And when had she fallen so hard, dammit?

“Rise and shine,” she said brightly, turning away and getting up, hoping to hide whatever was showing on her face. Never was good at hiding her emotions and the way she felt...

She rushed across the hall to the bathroom and closed the door behind her, leaning against it and letting out a breath. A shower, that was what she needed.

With jerky movements, she tore off her pajama and stepped under the hot spray. God, too much on her mind without her lusting after Finn. The Gates, the Shades, the dragons... The invasion. Grabbing the shampoo, she rubbed her skull roughly, the foam burning her eyes. A good distraction. She scrubbed her skin until it was red and raw, and let the water wash it all away, down the drain.

Not the best of renewal rituals but it’d have to do.

Wrapped in a towel, she checked if the hallway was empty. It was. She trudged to her bedroom where she dressed and combed her hair, squeezing the excess water in a puddle on the floor. She bent to wipe it and caught a whiff of spice on the air.

Goddamn, now she could smell Finn from across the apartment? Definitely not a good sign.

She pulled on her boots and went in search of breakfast.

Finn was in the kitchen, heating water in the kettle. She stopped and he looked up, his blue eyes uncertain.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Tea, actually.” She forced herself to enter and take a seat. “There’s that instant coffee crap if you want.”

He nodded, pulled it out of the cupboard.

“Do you have coffee over there? In
Aelfheim
?”

He shook his head as he measured the instant coffee in one chipped mug, and dropped a bag of tea in the other.

“Nothing to help you wake up in the morning?” God, she was babbling. Why was she so nervous? They hadn’t even slept together — well, they had, but not that way.
Awkward
.

“
Ka
leaves.” Finn poured the water into the mugs. “We chew them.”

Oh
. Her mind blanked and she accepted her mug with a nod. Finn sat across from her, the plastic chair squeaking. He looked good. Rested. Yes, rested, not good. That was all. “And what do you have for breakfast?”

She thought he wouldn’t answer. He stirred his coffee, threw her another uncertain look. Tension hummed along the lines of his body. “Whatever is available,” he muttered.

Right
. Raised by a hunter in the mountains, hunting for scraps of food, not in the elven palaces, his breakfast served on silver platters. “And what did you hunt—”

“I want to help,” Finn said.

She gaped. “Sorry?”

“To stop the invasion.” He clutched the mug until she thought he’d crush it.

“Good, I...” She tried to untangle her thoughts. “You know a lot about the elves... about your people, I mean.” God, what was it with her today? One night sleeping next to Finn and her brain was a knot. “You can tell us about their weapons and machines and...”

“I want to fight with you.” He pushed back his mug, his expression determined. “I don’t know much about their army, their plans, or why they want me now. But I do know I don’t trust them. And I don’t want to go back.”

***

Finn was in the bathroom, salvaging what he could of their blades. After the dragon fight, for the first time since she’d joined the Bureau, she’d forgotten to clean her knives.

Well, Finn had forgotten, too.
Small consolation
. The blades had been corroded with ichor, eaten away and rusted.

Dave hadn’t called yet, which meant no attacks, or at least nothing so big he couldn’t handle it with the others.

She sat at the kitchen table trying to decide what to do next. Finn seemed serious about helping. He’d rattled off types of weapons and vehicles, tactics he thought the elves might follow. He hadn’t been in the army long enough to know more, apparently, and his rank had been the lowest. He’d also been far from the Boreals’ palaces and tables, so he hadn’t overheard anything. Of all the Boreals, he was the least suited to advise her on how to tackle the invasion.

But he was on the humans’ side.

She had to find a way to tell Dave this without betraying Finn’s nature. Of course, Finn didn’t know anything about the Gates or how to close them, something the elves apparently knew. Or did they?

And what about Simon? What about John Grey? What was his role?

She got up and wandered to the bathroom. Finn knelt in the shower, scrubbing away the rust from a blade. His hands seemed dipped in blood. She shuddered.

“Hey.” She leaned on the door frame, folding her arms over her chest. “Question for you.”

Finn raised a pale eyebrow and went on scrubbing.

“A Guardian. A
Duergr
. Would he consume food?”

“No.”

Clear and to the point. At least Finn and the old epic agreed. “Not even the newer models?”

“Liquids.”

Okay, this had to be clarified. “The newer models can drink but not eat?”

Finn nodded.

“But that means Simon can’t have been a
Duergr
.”

Finn grunted. It sounded like an affirmative.

“You don’t believe he was one, either. Why? You never knew him.”

“Wolves killed him.
Duergar
are hard to kill.”

Aha
. “Are elves hard to kill as well?”

Shaking his head, Finn put down the knife he’d been cleaning. “We’re resistant to illness and infection. But a blade or bullet can kill us the same as you.”

It was her turn to nod.
Interesting
.

Finn was looking at her, his eyes wary.

Ella slid down the wall until she sat across from him. She could see every muscle, defined through the material of his t-shirt, the curve of his neck, his soft lips. His scent reached her nostrils and she inhaled, regretting it an instant later when her body reacted and heat climbed her cheeks.

“Tell me more about your world,” she said. “About your queen. About her plans. It looks like the Gates are stabilizing.”
And I may be playing a role in this, although I don’t know what it could be
. “Your people may cross over any moment now.”

Finn’s mouth flattened. He let his rust-stained hands hang between his knees and leaned his head back against the tiled wall. “Queen Adramar.”

“How would she attack?”

“On dragonback and with flying machines. Distortion guns, absorb swords, hurricane engines. Unless she has weapons and vehicles I never saw.”

Her lips moved, going over the words he’d spoken. “You told me about the absorb swords, but what are distortion guns and... never mind. You can explain these things when we have a meeting with Dave.”

Finn tensed, head coming up.

“I know you don’t trust him,” Ella said, raising a placating hand, “but in this at least we need to collaborate. We need to stop the invasion, and without Dave’s backup we won’t do much. He’s the one with the power and the connections to the defense ministry. Besides.” She shrugged. “It’s not like he trusts you, either. But we have to work together or we’re toast.”

Finn’s jaw clenched. He glared.
Joy
.

“Finn?”

“I don’t trust him because something is off about him.”

“Excuse me?” Ella hadn’t expected that. “He’s secretive, sure, but if there’s someone who’s off here is you.”

Finn twitched, and his face went blank. Well, blanker. He grabbed the knife he’d been cleaning and bent over it, raising the whetstone.

Oh. Oh! Damn
. That hadn’t come out so good. “Hey, Finn, listen. Don’t take it like that. What I meant is he’s human. You’re an elf, right? That’s all. And he doesn’t trust elves.”

“How about you?”

Ella stilled. She tugged on her ponytail. “I don’t trust elves either.”

The sound of the whetstone on steel raised gooseflesh on her arms. “I see.”

Shit
. “I want to trust you.” She rose and brushed the dust from her pants. “Please. If you know anything about John Grey, about the attack plans of the elves...”

She waited but Finn went on polishing, face hidden by his hair.

Great
.

With a sigh, she turned and walked out of the bathroom. Finn’s quiet voice stopped her.

“The Gates.”

Shoving her hands in her pockets, she swung around, tried to look cool while her heart tried to thump its way out of her chest. “What about the Gates?”

“John Grey’s role.”

“What? He guards the Gates? I thought that was the job of the Gua—”

“Opening the Gates.” Finn peered up at her through his hair.

Oh, shit
. Her knees shook. No wonder the Light elves wanted John Grey, and wanted him safe. And if the Dark elves were against the opening of the Gates, no wonder they wanted to harm him. Jeez, it all made sense. Not a weapon
per se
, this Johnny person, but a means to an invasion. An irreplaceable one.