Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (4 page)

A nurse trailed her with a form to sign out as Ella strode through the lobby and out of the institution, heading back to her car.
What a waste of time
.

Half-way to her car through the small park, she stopped. The air clicked around her, and her hair whipped without wind. A dark mist rose. She drew her gun and crouched behind a low fence.

Two shapes formed, unfolding from the mist, and, good god, were those horns on their heads? They were goat-legged and hooved. Huge though, at least two heads taller than her, and twice as wide. Oh man, she hadn’t even had breakfast yet, and the day was shaping up pretty bad already.

She bit her lip, clutching her gun to her chest. The clicking filled her ears. A theory said it was how Shades communicated, and expert linguists had been brought in to decipher it. They hadn’t cracked the code yet.

Still, she strained her ears. What if these Shades knew what had happened to Simon? What if they spoke his name?

The clicks grew louder as the Shades approached, their hooves clacking and mingling with their strange speech. How would
‘Simon’
sound in clickish? Simon was the one with the language skills.
Simon...

The clicks stopped. She blinked. The creatures sniffed, their faces wrinkled, and they gave a sort of screeching bellow. Then they launched themselves at her.

Oh, crap
. She stood up, firing bullet after bullet. They didn’t stop. She holstered her gun and drew her throwing knives. Dammit, she should have passed by the armory first. Narrowing her eyes, she threw the first knife. Missed. The creature moved too fast for a good target, but she managed to cut its cheek. The Shade hissed but kept coming.

The other knife hit the other Shade right between the eyes and it fizzled and faded.

Ella grinned.

Then a hand landed on her shoulder, and she gasped, tried to turn around. Claws dug into her flesh, scraping the bone, and she struggled not to scream. She hadn’t seen this one creeping from behind.

Ella went for her second knife, but suddenly she was airborne. She hit the shed wall with a force that knocked the breath out of her lungs. Dropping to her knees, grating them on gravel and twigs, she bent over, trying to suck in air.
Ow
. Her ribs and her shoulder blared pain, while her knee throbbed in time to her racing heart.

More figures appeared from her right. Holy crap, how many were there, and what did they want?
A snack
, a voice in her head piped, and she hissed, getting to her feet. No, she didn’t feel like getting eaten today, or dying in general, not before finding Simon and bringing him back. His uncle needed him, hell, she needed him. The world was falling apart and she couldn’t go on without her friend and mentor.

She lifted her knife, but the next blow threw her face-down to the ground. Pine needles scraped her cheek and neck, stung her arm. Her knife was gone, thrown out of her hand on impact. She blinked at the needle-covered ground, pine-green of course, and damn uncomfortable.

Three horned silhouettes loomed over her, black against the white light filtering through the clouds.
Shit
. She struggled to sit up, figuring she’d at least give them a few bruises before going down.
What a way to go
. She’d kill Simon when she found him.

One of the Shades kicked her in the chest with a hooved foot and, god, that hurt. She curled an arm around her ribs, swallowing a moan — when something flashed at the corner of her eye.

Blades
— slicing through air, spinning like twin suns, slashing and cutting. Pale hair fluttered as the slender man feinted and parried and stabbed, never stopping his movement, always dancing forward, cutting down the Shades. Open-mouthed she watched as he slid under their guard, his knives drawing black lines on the Shades’ hides. Fizzling filled the air, and then shrieks.

Ichor sprayed and she threw an arm over her face, protecting her eyes. When she next looked up, the Shades were gone, and so was he.

Damn
.

***

The armory was situated at sublevel four, and her steps led her there on autopilot. Apart from the officers’ canteen and Dave’s office, that was the one other place she frequented at the HQ.

A distrustful-looking officer demanded to see her badge.
Newbie?
She’d been there a thousand times. Rubbing her bandaged shoulder, she waited until she was waved inside.

Immediately she spotted Jeff and headed his way. “Hey, Jefferson.”

He grinned at her. “Elly.”

“Need weapons.”

“You’ve come to the right place.” Behind him stretched rows of guns and knives, laid out on shelves and tables. “Long time no see.”

“Did Dave tell you anything? I need — we all need — blades and bullets made of iron.”

“Pure iron?” Jeff put down the blade he’d been carving symbols into. “Has it come to that?”

“So Dave told you nothing.” Ella puffed in anger. “Look, it’s urgent.”

“You know I’ll have to talk to your boss first.”

Awesome
. “Do that, but do it today. I’m not kidding, Jefferson, things are going to hell and fast. I need weapons that can protect me, or I won’t be around much longer.”

He frowned. “You’re kidding me. That bad? You said Shades can’t get that nasty.”

“Well, things change,” she said, more bitterly than she’d planned. “Getting attacked twice within twelve hours and barely making it out can change your mind.”

Jeff gave her a long look. “Never seen you afraid before.”

“Haven’t been in a long time,” she said. Her phone rang and she flipped it open as she left the weaponry. “Ella.”

“Have you heard the reports?” Dave sounded harried and out of breath.

“No, what?”

“Four people were killed in Collin Park and two in an alley near the wharf, all literally shredded.”

Ella winced. “Well, I had a run-in with three Shades at the institution where old Greary lives.”

“Today?”

“Less than an hour ago.”

He swore. “And did you find any leads on Simon?”

“Nope. Something about soldiers, guards and grey.”

He sighed. Didn’t say
‘I told he was no use’
, but she could almost hear it. “You need a partner.”

“Heard you the first time. I will find Simon.”

“Just check Martha out, okay? At least we’ll know if she can join our squad. With Simon gone, god knows we need more people.”

“And where do I find her?”

“She’s Officer Martha Graham at the police HQ downtown.”

“Fine.” She’d check out the woman. Chances were she wasn’t a voyant at all. Most such cases were false alarms, people claiming they saw ghosts and monsters, but only building them up in their own minds. Okay, so sometimes they really saw the Shades, especially when under stress, but that wasn’t helpful. Ella would need someone able to see the Shades all the time, and that wasn’t common. “Tell Jeff at the armory we need iron weapons, will you? It’s getting kind of urgent.” She’d need to scour the library archives, see if there was any other strong protection she’d missed.

“Will do. Just get your ass over to downtown HQ.”

“Okey dokey, boss.” She grinned, pleased, and knowing that despite his recent grumbling he hated being called that. “As soon as I can.”

“What does that mean? Ella, where...”

But she’d already hung up. She had Simon’s girlfriend to visit. Let Dave write Simon off for dead. She wouldn’t.

Chapter Three

Oracle

Ella rang the bell two, three times, but nobody came to answer the door. Could it be the wrong apartment?

Steps. A floorboard creaked. “Who is it?”

“Police. Agent Ella Benson.”

The door didn’t open. “I’ve told the police everything I know already.”

“I’m Simon’s partner.” Damn, still nothing. “He must have told you about me.”

“Maybe. I don’t remember.”

Heat bubbled in Ella’s chest. “Look, I just want to ask you one or two things.” She swallowed the hard ball of anger in her throat, together with her pride. “Please.”

She waited.

The door clicked open.

The other woman — Ella refused to think of her as Simon’s
anything
— walked to the long white sofa that took up one end of the living room and sat, crossing her ankles. She wore black stilettos and a short black skirt, which irritated Ella somehow. Simon liked that? He’d never said anything about her worn combat boots when they’d dated. The woman was pretty, she had to grudgingly admit, her short black hair stylish and her eyes large and green, perfectly made up. If she’d wept for Simon’s disappearance, she’d carefully wiped the evidence away before reapplying her thick mascara.

“So you’re Simon’s partner?” The woman looked at Ella from under lowered lashes. She didn’t seem impressed.

Ella wasn’t, either. “And you’re his girlfriend? Really?”

The woman laughed, and suddenly Ella liked her a lot better. Her laughter was open and infectious. “Yeah. Sarah. Sarah Williams.”

Ella took a seat without waiting for an invitation — her knee was killing her and her ribs burned. “Sarah. Look, I’m hoping for any clues as to what happened to Simon. Was he with you yesterday?” The thought hurt, but what the hell. It wasn’t as if she and Simon had anything going on between them, not anymore.

“No, he wasn’t. He said he had a lot of work at the Bureau.”

“You know the exact nature of Simon’s job?”

She nodded, short black hair falling in her eyes. She pushed it back with a manicured hand. “I know what your job entails, agent Benson.”

“Ella,” Ella said automatically. “You know about...?” She waved her hand in the air.

“The Shades? Yes.” Sarah looked away, lines forming between her dark brows. “I can hear them.”

“You’re an oracle.”

Sarah nodded again.

“Was that how you and Simon met?”

“Yes. He came to me, about a month ago, asking if I’d heard anything unusual from beyond.” She smiled a sad smile. “‘Any good stations on the radio?’ he’d asked. Made me laugh.”

It was Ella’s turn to nod. Sounded like Simon. “And did you?”

“What?”

“Did you hear anything unusual?”

 Sarah gave her a steady look. Her red lips pressed together in a stubborn line. “Agent...”

“Just Ella.”

“Ella. I told Simon what I heard, and now he’s missing. Being here may not be the best idea you’ve had recently.”

Half insult, half warning. Ella relaxed. This was more familiar territory. She didn’t want to like this woman. “That’s up to me to decide. So...?”

Sarah leaned back, one hand clenching against a fashionable red cushion. “As I told Simon, the Voices have gotten very loud of late. Deafening at times. They talk a lot about doors and passages. They never did before.”

Ella shivered. She glanced at the balcony door, uneasy all of a sudden. “What else?”

“They talked about John Grey.”

“Are you sure?” Greary had mentioned that name. She’d thought it an old man’s rambling.

Sarah frowned. “Of course I’m sure. Are you poking fun?”

“No. Not at all.” Ella wiped a hand over her face, pinched the bridge of her nose. “This name could be important. Any idea who this man is?”

Sarah rubbed her hands over her legs, as if cold, and Ella caught the outline of a knife strapped on her thigh. There was more to this woman than met the eye. “I wish I could help you. All I can tell you is that they seem to fear him.”

Interesting
. A king of Shades, perhaps?

“Listen.” Sarah clasped her hands in her lap. “I don’t know where Simon is. But I’m pretty sure I know who took him.”

Ella shook her head. “I don’t—”

“The Shades took him. Whoever this John Grey is, he’s obviously taking control of the Grey, sending his Shades to take over this world.”

 “That’s speculation, unless you heard something more you’re not telling me.” Ella got up, bent her head and took a deep breath. “You know nothing of Simon’s whereabouts last night?”

“No, and I told the police that already.”

“Fine.” Ella turned to go.

“Agent Benson.”

“What?”

“Be careful. If they got Simon, they may be coming for you next.”

She thought of the Shades ambushing her outside the institution. Maybe they already had.

***

Finding a parking spot downtown was a bitch, as expected, and when she thought her mood couldn’t get any fouler, the officer at the door inspected her badge with a lifted brow and took his time doing so. What was it with new officers today?

She resisted the urge to tap her foot while waiting to be let through to the inner sanctum. Finally she was waved in and crossed the small reception area.

In the holding cage in the corner, someone was curled against the bars. She passed two women and a man filling out complaint forms and tapped on the door to the main office. A middle-aged woman stood by the desk, drinking coffee from a plastic cup. Her uniform was stained and rumpled, and she wore her reading glasses on top of her head.

She squinted at Ella. “Yes? How can I help you?”

Ella opened her mouth to speak, when something clicked. Her breath caught. The air swirled in the corner of the room. A shifting cloud of darkness, arms growing from its top. A Shade trying to get through the veil.

Letting out the breath quietly, she turned back to the woman. “Looking for Martha Graham.”

“In the flesh.” Martha looked down at herself and made a face. “Had a bit of a run in today. I arrested a thief and he gave me a run for my money.”

Ella raised her brows. “I see.” At the edge of her vision, the Shade was taking a more humanoid form. A head had appeared above the arms, with two glowing holes for eyes.

“So... what can I do you for?”

“David Holborn sent me,” Ella said, and it was a struggle to keep her hands off her knives. Maybe it was a harmless Shade, but after the recent attacks... “Paranormal Bureau.”

“Oh, right. I know why he sent you.” Martha waved a hand at a plastic chair. “Have a seat. Want a coffee?”

Ella thought about declining, but didn’t. She felt cold, and realized she was in a bit of a shock, with Simon gone missing, the recent attack and a Shade forming mere feet from her. Warmth and caffeine sounded good. “Yes, please.”

“Tastes like piss,” Martha warned, waddling out the door. “Just so you know.”

Ella gave the Shade another look, but it was still forming. She couldn’t attack it yet. Slow to cross, slow to move. That was how Shades used to be.
Damn. Good old times
.

So instead, she took a seat and stretched out her legs, glancing around the messy office. Her leg, broken in an encounter a few months back, itched and ached. The weather was changing, growing colder and damper, making old fractures and joints hurt. Simon often complained about that, too.

Simon. Missing
. Ella’s hands started shaking again, and she was grateful when Martha pushed the cup between her icy fingers. She sipped at her coffee, bitter and sweet and scalding hot. The only way she could drink that crap. Maybe the woman was a psychic after all.

“So, David Holborn sent you.” Martha tsked. “I bet it’s about that little incident a month ago at the Shawn Merlin murder scene.”

Ella remembered the case. Gruesome murder, blood splashed all over the house. No fingerprints, no clues. Case unsolved. “What happened there?”

Martha leaned against the desk, cradling her cup in both hands. “Well, I... Most people would think I’m crazy, but I saw something... Thought I saw something.” She gave a rueful smile. “I did tell David Holborn that it was probably the shock. Murder scene was quite horrid.”

“Yeah,” Ella said distractedly. The Shade had now grown legs, long and spindly. “Just tell me what you saw.”

Silence greeted her words. She turned. Martha was giving her a doubtful look.

Ella sighed. “I won’t call you crazy, I promise. I mean, I work for Holborn, right?” She flashed what she hoped was a disarming smile. “And this stays between the two of us.”

Martha seemed to relax a little. “All right.”

“So...?” The Shade had taken full form, and Ella’s hand strayed to the gun strapped to her hip.

“Well, I saw something.” Martha put the cup on the desk, drawing Ella’s attention back to her. She wiped her hands down her pants. “Not sure what it was. I first thought it was some sort of animal in the shadows of the staircase. You know. In the house. The staircase leading from the living room, the murder scene, to the upper floor where the bedrooms are.”

“What sort of animal?” The Shade was still and its energy pulsed faintly and steadily. It didn’t look like it was about to attack.
Still...
“Can you describe it?”

“Hard to tell. It crouched, and it seemed to have a muzzle like a dog. But its body...” Martha shuddered. “It looked like a person’s. Legs, arms. I could swear I saw horns on its head, though.” She snorted, a forced, nervous sound.

So she’d seen a Shade indeed. Dave’s instincts were good. “Have you seen this sort of thing before?”

Martha shook her head. Her glasses fell and she made a grab for them. She missed and they clanked to the floor. Well, even if she did see Shades, she didn’t strike Ella as someone cut out to fight them.

“Never have. Hope never to again, either.” Martha placed the glasses on the desk and almost knocked the coffee cup over.

“Can you sense anything in this room right now?”
One last try
.

Martha froze halfway from straightening the cup and glanced around, her eyes wide. “You mean there’s something here?”