Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (57 page)

He still didn’t look up. “Not real,” he whispered.

“Hey.” She grabbed his hand. “Snap out of it. What those kids said, what everyone thought was wrong.” She put a hand under his chin and lifted his face, gently. When their eyes finally met, she winked. “You’ve got magic, baby.”

He pressed his lips together and she let him go.

“Lame, huh?” she whispered. “You rock my world?” She snorted. “If I can’t even make you smile, then what good am I?”

He snorted softly, too, and the sound lifted her heart. She had to get through to him and she wasn’t above cheating; not when it came to helping Finn. “Come and eat something. I need your help to do this. I’m tired and the fever won’t let me think. Please.”

It warmed her heart when this time he nodded and let her drag him to the table. Cheating or not, he was doing it for her.

***

The room was shaped like the inside of a bell, the curved walls sheer white. They sparkled in the light of lamps set on tall tables made of dragon bones.

Kneeling on a colorful rug in a corner, the boy played with his toys, pale hair hiding his face, slender-tipped ears poking out. He had a beaked wolf made of stone in his small hand, and the figurine of a man in the other. He made low growling noises as he had the two fight and tumble about.

 She dropped to her knees at the edge of the rug. He glanced over and smiled, his grey eyes lighting up. He pushed the stone wolf toy toward her, but she couldn’t lift her hand to take it.

He didn’t seem to mind. He had it attack the man figurine with a low howl that sounded eerily like the sound a real wolf would produce. The fine hairs on her arms stood on end.

She must have made a face, because the boy laughed, a beautiful crystal sound that echoed in the room.

Grinning, she watched as the stone wolf stomped around the figurine, then attacked it making snarling sounds.

So cute
. She wanted to grab the boy in her arms, tickle him and hear that happy laughter again. Why wouldn’t her arms move from her sides?

 The boy muttered something and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. He shot her a quick look, then pushed the man figurine toward her. He gave a tentative smile that wobbled at the edges, as if saying, come, play with me.

Oh god, she wanted to join in, but it was as if a force field surrounded the boy, not letting her approach.

His face fell and he pulled back the figurine, eyes downcast.

It made her want to cry.
Finn
, she tried to say, but no sound came from her lips.
Finn, can you hear me?

The boy set the wolf on the figurine, but his heart didn’t seem to be in it anymore. As he turned to set his toys aside, a dark patch on his arm caught Ella’s eye.
A bruise?
The boy stretched to grab another toy, a sort of plane made from a light, brown material, and she thought she saw the imprint of fingers marked in blue and black around his biceps.

Who did this to you?
she wanted to ask. Those weren’t the fingerprints of a child. The urge to gather him close made her hands tingle, but she still couldn’t move them. It was maddening.

The boy whimpered, a tiny sound caught in his throat, and turned his head as if listening. She glanced at the open door. What had frightened him so much?

Then she heard the steps, too.

She couldn’t approach the boy, but she could move away from him, so she got up and stepped toward the door.

The boy scrambled to his feet.

A male elf entered, his wide shoulders barely fitting through. His long pale hair was clasped at the back of his neck and he wore a peculiar metal crown on his head — glittering vines twisting and knotting on his forehead, vanishing in his hairline.

She knew that face from the dreams, and hated it. It always heralded pain.

“
Fadhir
,” the boy whispered, his face white, and backed into the corner.

Without a word, the elf marched to the boy and grabbed him by the hair. The boy whimpered again as Ella spun after the elf, a shout clogging her throat.

Leave him be!
she tried to shout, but couldn’t, and when she threw herself at the elf, to pull him away, she found she couldn’t even touch him.

Why? Why’s this happening?

A thump and the boy’s head was slammed against the wall, the man’s hand holding him there by the hair, his other hand coming to grip the boy’s jaw.

“Where’s your magic,
mogr
?” he hissed. “You’re no son of mine, are you? You’re an embarrassment, making me look bad to the other
lydr
.”

Her knees shook with fear. The elf was huge and she barely reached his waist.
Stop hurting him!
her lips formed the words without a sound.

So useless
.

The elf shook the boy and slammed him again into the wall. Another thump sounded, sending her heart banging.

Red misted her eyes. Heat rushed up her neck to her face. How dare he harm Finn? Finn was hers to protect.

“Finn!” she shouted, the sound ripping from her throat, “no!”

***

The door burst open and four police raced inside. They spread out, guns pointed. Ella sat up on the bed, her heart booming. Grey light trickled from the dusty windows of the cafeteria, illuminating the empty space, glinting off the metal surfaces of tables and benches.

Finn struggled to sit up and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Wait,” she whispered, glancing around. Was there an open Gate?

A policewoman, her long braid swinging, pointed at something at the far end of the cafeteria and the others moved toward it, guns raised.

Ella got up, wincing at the sharp pain in her arm and hand. Her pulse beat in every wound and ricocheted inside her skull. She stood, swaying.

What could she do if a dragon or wolf had crossed over? She had no weapons. What if a Gate opened right on top of them, or if the Shades attacked before reinforcements arrived? She had to talk with Dave about that. Experiment or not, she needed at least her blades. 

Pissed at herself for not thinking of this earlier, glad the fever addling her senses was finally receding, she marched up to the cluster of police and peeked around them.

A twisted claw and a beaked head lying in a pool of blood.
A wolf
.

The police woman stalked to the dead animal, sighting down her gun, but the air around them was still. Looked like the Gate had shut down.

“All clear,” the policewoman said into the mike attacked to her collar and signaled for everyone to leave. “Bring in the cleaning crew. Animal remains and blood, nothing living. Take away and incinerate.”

A grunt and shuffle made Ella turn around. Finn stood on trembling legs, white lines of pain around his mouth.

Ella went to steady him with an arm around his waist. Damn, he’d lost weight. His sharp hip bone dug into her palm as they made their way to the wolf’s remains.

“
Freki
,” he muttered, his arm quivering around her shoulders. He shouldn’t be up, dammit, but of course he’d want to see what his magic had brought. “My fault.” Guilt weighed his voice.

“No, it’s not. Besides, we’re working on it.” She frowned. “Hey, did I really speak aloud in your dream?”

He shivered. “You sounded angry.”

“Just angry? I was going to rip him a new one.”
Finn’s father. Shit.
Anger did have its uses after all, and the psychologist she’d visited had wanted her to ditch the negative feelings and find inner peace. Inner peace wouldn’t save Finn, or the world.

“Why?”

She froze, staring at his chin, his throat, then down at his bare chest with all its scars and the bandage taped over the incision in his ribs. Familiar panic threatened to surface —
you break everything you touch, every relationship you have
— and took a deep breath.

Because it wasn’t true. She wasn’t breaking Finn or his trust. She was mending. Like a seamstress, like Asa, Sirurd’s daughter, she was stitching Finn’s soul back together.

Or something like it, anyway. She laid her head on his shoulder and snorted softly against his bare skin.
So melodramatic
.

“Ella?”

“I was angry because I love you, of course,” she said. “Didn’t I tell you that?”
Aggravating
. She was pretty sure she had, and hell, she might take it personally if he didn’t remember. She didn’t think she’d spoken those words to anyone before. Hadn’t
felt
that way before.

“But that was before you knew,” he muttered, barely audible.

Before... Oh right
. Before she knew he was John Grey, the monster they’d been trying to find. But a monster would have taken advantage of such a power, would have used it for gain.

Not Finn.

“Magic or no magic,” she said, “it’s you I care for. That’s my heart on a plate, Finn. All yours.”

When she glanced up, she barely noticed the cleaning crew that bustled past them to bag the wolf’s remains and mop up the mess on the floor.

Because Finn was smiling — the lift of his lips faint and barely there, but it was enough to give her hope.

Chapter Nine

Temper

“If I didn’t know he got shot yesterday, I wouldn’t believe it,” Dr. Evans muttered, taping the gauze back on Finn’s chest. “I mean, the fact his rib stopped the bullet is a miracle all by itself. They don’t make bones that strong nowadays. It’s like he’s superman or something.”

He glanced up, found Dave’s scowl and Finn’s glare, and froze. Ella couldn’t blame him. “Ah, okay,” he rushed on. “I don’t really want to know. It’s fine.” He gathered his things in his bag, his hands shaking. “All good.”

Ella watched him go, amused. Having two laser beam glares pointed at you wasn’t a small thing, and she was pleased Finn was healing well.

The infection from the slash in her arm had also gone down, and her head felt clear for the first time in days. She’d even found oatmeal and milk on the shelves and had been treated to the sight of Finn inhaling his food and asking for seconds.

Small victories
.

Now if only she could find the key to stopping his magic, life could be good.

Footsteps sounded behind her. Finn stilled in the process of tightening his bandana.

“Captain Wood,” Dave said and Ella turned slowly, nostrils flaring.

“A nice little gathering you’ve got here.” Captain Wood was in full uniform this time, and her blue eyes glittered with barely contained fury. “You tell me to keep out of your way, pretending my concerns about him,” she nodded at Finn who tensed like a coiled spring, “are unfounded. Now here you are, in a military establishment. I’d say you played right into my hands, Sergeant.”

Ella moved closer to the bed, a buffer between Finn and the Captain.

Captain Wood eyed her like she would a turd she’d stepped on, and turned back to Dave. “Gates were opening; you announced the possibility of an invasion and got the army to evacuate part of the city. No invasion of any kind seems to be happening, though, and you commandeered this base — for what exactly? You’re keeping agent Finn who’s recovering from injuries and who has been on my list for a while, together with agent Benson and a platoon positioned outside, on stand-by. For what?”

Ella bared her teeth.

“I think,” Dave said, pronouncing every word carefully, “that there’s a misunderstanding.”

“I don’t think so,” Captain Wood said, thumb hooked in her belt. “I demand an explanation. This time you’ve overstepped your authority. I’ve reason to believe agent Finn is directly linked with this alien invasion we’ve been preparing for, and I have therefore contacted the police and requested that a warrant be issued for his arrest.”

“A misunderstanding,” Dave repeated, humming so loud Ella wondered if he’d blow a fuse. “I told you last time we met that Finn is under the protection of the Organization.”

“The Organization? I don’t follow,” Captain Wood grunted.

“That’s because this case is classified,” Dave said smoothly, “and the information is not disclosed to any random captain.” He took a step toward Wood and something on his face must have convinced her she was treading dangerous waters.

“Are you threatening me?”

“No, I’m saying that if you don’t drop this investigation and cancel the request for a warrant, the Assembly will take over and I can’t guarantee your safety or your position.” He shrugged. “It will be out of my hands, you understand.”

Ella gaped at Dave. She never imagined the Organization had such power, and the formal way he talked was unnerving. She inched closer to Finn, just in case, and wondered if she was quick enough to draw Dave’s gun from its hip holster if things went south.

“What’s the name of this Organization?” Captain Wood asked.

“Classified,” Dave said.

“But why protect agent Finn—”

“Classified, too.” Dave nodded toward the door. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m sure you’ve got things to do and warrants to cancel.”

The Captain’s cool eyes flicked from Dave to Finn and then to Ella, lingering, full of curiosity and anger. “I see. Don’t think I won’t discuss this with my superiors.”

“Feel free, Captain. Nobody can stop you from digging your own grave,” Dave said, and Ella shivered.

Without another word, the Captain spun on her heel and marched out, letting the door slam behind her.

Holy steaming pile of crap, what would have happened if Dave hadn’t given them a chance? Even if they’d managed to escape him, the military would have come blasting after them with everything they had.

But you convinced him
, she thought, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing her hands over her face, the adrenaline rush fading, leaving her cold.
You only have to prove you were right
.

Oh yeah
.

“I’ll need my knives back,” she said, muffled by her hands, when she heard Dave move toward the door.

“What for?”

“Christ, Dave, if it hasn’t escaped your attention, the Shades are still after us, and the occasional claw or beak falls through the Gates from time to time.” She raised her head to glower at him, though her heart wasn’t in it, not after he’d taken their side. “But above all, I need them in case Captain Bitch returns. If she as much as touches Finn, she’ll lose a hand, I swear.”

Finn made a small choking noise behind her.

“Temper.” Dave shook his head. “I’ll send you the knives,” he threw over his shoulder as he opened the door. “Just don’t get any ideas, I always carry a gun.”

“As if robots can die,” she shot back and sighed. “It’s the rest of us I’m worried about.”

***

Anger
. The only thing that had made a difference in Finn’s dreams so far. She had to use it somehow, draw on it.

It was their third day there, and time passed quickly when every chore took up a good chunk of the day. The visiting medic had brought plastic to tape over Finn’s incision so he could shower without wetting the wound, and Finn had insisted he was fine showering alone, but she’d hovered, afraid he might pass out and hurt himself worse. She’d also wrapped plastic over her own wounds. The ancient showers insisted on spraying scalding hot and then ice cold water on her every time.

It sure helped wake her up in the mornings.

Then there was the task of preparing food on the basic stove she’d found under the counter. Dave hadn’t given their need for eating much thought, apparently. Probably because he didn’t need food himself.

 Not that Finn was picky. Just restless and slow. Too tired to even chew; barely interested in living.

That had to change. She’d haul him back to the land of the living, kicking and screaming. She’d leave him no choice.

Yeah, anger
. Fuel her anger against those who wronged him, feed the fury until she was incandescent with it.

She sat on the floor, polishing her knives, while Finn half-dozed on the bed.

“Your father,” she said, because that ticked her off the most. Ticked her off — hell, it sent red flashing before her eyes. “How bad... How often...?” Her teeth were grinding with outrage.

Finn blinked, his body tensing on the bed. “Not often,” he whispered. “Not bad.”

“How bad is not bad?” She knew a Finn euphemism when she heard one. “Could you walk? Could you move afterward?”

He shifted on the pillow, eyeing her, his expression guarded. “He only bruised me a little.”

“From smashing you repeatedly into the wall?” Fury made her hands shake and she dropped the knife to the floor before she cut herself.

He said nothing, mouth pressed small. Dammit, still he didn’t get it. She threw the rug away and saw him flinch.

“He hurt you. You were just a kid.”

“I had no magic,” Finn quietly. “I disgraced him at the children displays.”

“He’s an idiot.” Ella got to her feet and stomped to gather the rug from the floor. “When you love someone, you don’t care what others will say, or if you fall out of fashion.” Another thought hit her. “Did Neith beat you, too?”

Finn shook his head and glared at the bed cover. 

“You said he died before you joined the military. How?”

Finn looked up and her heart twisted in sadness. “He was sick.”

God, it hurt to see so much pain in his eyes. And it was no good. She needed anger, not fear and numbing sorrow.

If she didn’t find a way to help Finn and stop the nightmares, all the sorrow in the world would have been for nothing.

***

The woods were still and frozen, white trees rising against the grey sky. A sharp wind slithered between the trunks, stinging her face and exposed hands. The snow crunched underfoot, fresh and thick, and her boots sank in it. Wading up to her knees in the fluffy drifts, she followed Finn who moved silently, an arrow cocked on his longbow, forefinger and middle finger holding it in place.