Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (37 page)

Oh
.

Shit
. “I woke you up,” she whispered. “Sorry.”

“I wasn’t asleep.” He turned away, staring at the light spilling through the open door.

“You’re having nightmares, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

“I dreamed of wolves,” Ella whispered. “And a frozen lake. Someone was waiting for me but I couldn’t reach him, and the wolves were on me.” She shivered at the memory.
So real
.

Finn made a small sound, like a protest. “
Neith
,” he muttered.

Whatever that meant. She really should refresh her knowledge of the language. “Go back to sleep,” she said. Outside the shutters, it was still night. “I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be training.” And turning, he left the room.

Training
. How did he find the energy? Though Ella didn’t think she could go back to sleep, either. Maybe having a tea, watching Finn doing his exercises and getting all hot and sweaty in the living room would chase the lingering chill from her bones and mind.

With tired motions, she got up and flicked on the light. A cold draft curled in the room and she grabbed a sweater to pull over her pajamas. She padded to the window, making sure it was closed and locked. Outside, ancient drainage pipes ran up and down the side of the building like a bulging vein.

With a shiver she drew back. Heights gave her the creeps.

She wandered over to the small kitchen and pulled her favorite mug — it had a kitten on it — from the cupboard. She missed her cat. Making a mental note to check on Miss Meow now that Mike and Scott were at the hospital, she plugged in the boiler.

It wasn’t until she was pouring the hot water over the teabag that she remembered what the word Finn had spoken meant.

Neith
. She stilled, mug in hand. It was the name of the hunter who’d taken him in after his parents had thrown him off the cliff as a child.

Why had Finn said it?

***

“How’s Scott?” Holding the phone in one hand, she used the other to drag an iron stool next to her bed. She stepped back to give the room a critical look. The salesman had sworn the stool was pure iron. She’d convinced Finn to place iron pots and pokers around his bed, and she planned to go shopping for an iron bed soon.

“He’s fine,” Mike said, sounding tired over the line. “They’re keeping him tonight, though, and I’m staying with him.”

Probably safer for both of them, Ella thought but didn’t say it. Mike had to have realized by now her fears were true. The Shades were after Finn and anyone who stood in their way could get killed.

“Let me know if you need anything,” she muttered, surveying her iron-filled room. “And keep the gun with you, yes? Just in case.”

“Yes, Mom,” Mike said, a smile in his voice.

Ella hung up and wiped her sweaty and filthy face on her arm. Now a shower, and life would surely look brighter.

A crash from the other bedroom made her jump.
Dammit
. Drawing her gun, she stalked down the corridor and looked into Finn’s room.

Finn sat on the bed, an embarrassed flush in his cheeks. He was clasping his bad knee.

Ella holstered her gun, breathing a sigh of relief. “What happened?”

He glared at his knee, then at the pots scattered around his bed.

“Knee buckled? And you tripped over the pots.” Ella coughed to hide a grin.

Finn nodded. He looked kinda terrible, now she took a good look at him, dark circles under his eyes and his face thin and pale. He’d started to gain some weight, finally, when they’d moved in together, and now he was losing it again, fast.

The mattress springs squeaked as she sat next to him. “You’re not sleeping well,” she said. “You look like hell.”

No reaction.

“Bad dreams?”

Finn stiffened, his eyes going flinty.

“You can tell me about them.” The bed looked soft. She could just lie down and sleep for years. “I’ve heard it helps.”

Finn cocked a brow. “Does it help you?”

Touché
. “Um, maybe?” She smiled down at her hands. “I told you what my dream was about this morning. What was yours about?”

If anything, Finn seemed to close off even more.

“Can’t be that bad, can it?” she asked and bit her lip. What did she know about bad? Finn had some truly horrific memories to draw upon. She thought of his words after the kiss, the despair in his eyes. “Does it have to do with your mother’s death?”

“What?” He looked away, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “No.”

“How did she die?”

His hands fisted on his black-clad thighs. “Of sorrow. Or so I was told.”

She gripped her hands together, not to reach up and caress his face. “I’m sorry.” She studied his profile against the grey light from the window, listened to the sound of his controlled breathing — still too fast, too harsh.

She made as if to get up. “I’m sorry. Forget it.”

Finn caught her wrist. She sat back down, blinking at him.

“I saw a frozen lake,” Finn said. She somehow knew what his next words would be, but she still jerked when he spoke. “Wolves were after me. I fell in the snow.”

Oh god
. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe she was having another nightmare. “Finn...”

“Neith... Neith was waiting for me ahead. He saw what happened. He shot the wolf.”

His arm was curled around his middle. She recalled a pain in her chest, from her heart to her stomach—

“That’s not a dream,” she breathed. “It’s your memory. That wolf carved you open, didn’t it?” That long scar on his chest.

And it wasn’t the first time she’d seen that cold world and its monsters.

If possible, Finn went paler. He rubbed his chest, his breathing coming in gasps, and nodded. “Neith always said if you can’t go on, then hide. I didn’t listen.”

“Finn...” She wanted to pull him into her arms, but settled for placing a hand on his arm and squeezing. “Why am I seeing your dreams?”

***

 A coincidence, he says
. Furious, Ella slammed the cupboard closed, then regretted it and hoped she hadn’t woken up Finn. He’d claimed he wanted to sleep. Damn, but he had looked exhausted. As if admitting what his dream had been about was more than he could handle.

She leaned against the kitchen counter and rubbed her eyes. She believed he was tired alright — but their shared dreams being a coincidence?
No way
.

Damn, her brain wouldn’t function after the night she’d had. Worst night ever. On a whim, she chose the instant coffee over her usual tea and tipped a heaped spoonful into her cup. She poured water over it, stirred and sipped.

God. Whoa
. Bitter as sin. Making a face, she gulped some of it down. If this didn’t wake her up, nothing would.

 So much to do. They needed new dishes. She had to go shopping. After the Shade attack, they had five dishes left, tops, and two glasses. Not to mention only one chair and no table.

Woo, this stuff was strong. Her head buzzed. When her phone rang, she jumped two feet off the floor, and the coffee spilled over her fingers, burning them.

She dropped the mug which shattered.

Jesus
. New mugs needed. Down to three now.

Perfect
.

“What do you want?” she barked into the phone. Damn, coffee wasn’t for her. “I mean, who is it?”

“Good morning to you, too,” Sarah said cheerily from the other end. “Reporting in with my research about the name you gave me.”

Oh, right
. Ella shoved her burned fingers under the cold water tap. “Found anything?”

“One entry. Guy died more than forty years ago.”

“Any pictures?”

“No. But I got his cousin’s info, we could check it out.”

“He’s got a cousin?” Hard to imagine Dave with family. Unless of course it wasn’t Dave, or his family. “Give me the address, we can meet up there later, after work.”

She jotted the address down and flipped her phone closed. A glance at the plastic clock on the wall told her it was eight in the morning. Time for a shower and that bright new day.

Her phone rang again. Who could that be?
You got three guesses
. She flipped it open.
And the prize goes to...

“Ella?” Dave snapped. “Need you to check something out.”

“Morning, boss.”
Brad. Dave. Whatever your name is
. “What’s the matter? Animals, pissy Shades, elves on the loose? Team one is ready for anything.” She bit the inside of her cheek. Damn, coffee was definitely off limits for her from now on.

A short silence greeted her question. Then Dave said, “Have you been drinking?”

“Just coffee.”

“Okay.” Dave sounded dubious. “Grab your partner and head over to Franklin Avenue.”

“It’s just around the corner. What’s up?”

“Something big fell from the sky a few minutes ago, crashing a car. I’m sending Martha Graham, too, with more people, but I need you to identify the creature for me as soon as possible.”

“Trying to fit it into your pattern?”

Dave grunted. “Yeah.”

“Any luck so far?”