Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (61 page)

“Now you,” she whispered, impatient, needing him. “Pants off. Please, Finn.”

He rose, pushing down his pants, shedding them like old skin, his body gleaming like pale moonstone. He lifted his face, a faint flush on his cheekbones, and she thought her heart might break at his beauty.

Finn, Finn, Finn
. She caught his hand and led him under the spray of hot water.

 After that, things got blurry. Soapy hands gliding over slippery bodies, Finn gasping when she touched him, his lips trailing heat over her neck. The sponge fell from her hand. Her back pressed against the wall and she kissed him, tasting him, while his hands explored her body.

She stroked his sides, his hipbones, fingers trailing to his arousal, and Finn stilled then shuddered, a groan slipping past clenched teeth. His knees began to bend and together they slid down on the tiles. They knelt, facing each other, warm water beating on her back.

Finn bent over and kissed her, long and sweet, then hot and demanding. His fingers tangled in her long hair, tugging lightly on her scalp, sending shivers of pleasure through her. Finn’s kiss was scorching. She was burning, couldn’t get enough. Moaning, she slid closer, wanting to feel him.

She brushed her hands over his ears, down his neck, climbed onto his lap to straddle his strong thighs, wanting... needing...

Finn hauled her against his chest, trapping his arousal between their bodies. A gasp escaped him, his eyes widening slightly. “
Faen
,” he cursed softly. His pulse thundered. “Wait.”

Hm... what?
She shifted and they both gasped. She moved back a little to see his face. “What is it?”

With a small growl, he leaned out of the shower stall, searching for something in his abandoned pants. Then he straightened, light and shadow playing on his chest, and his lips spread in a wicked grin that lit up his grey eyes. He waved something in her face — a small package. “Protection.”

The condom
. She plucked it from his fingers and ripped the package open. “Let me.”

His hooded gaze followed her hands as they burrowed between them. His eyes fluttered closed while she rolled the condom on, and when he opened them they were dark, the pupils blown.

Dragging her closer, he kissed her, setting her on fire all over again. Without breaking the kiss, he gripped her hips, lifting them, and slowly eased into her.

Oh god
. She arched against him, her fingers scrabbling on his back, and he broke the kiss to gasp her name. They moved, fitting perfectly together, holding onto each other as the wave of pleasure broke, pulling them both under.

As one
.

Epilogue

Snowflakes floated on the cold air, lazily spinning in eddies here and there over the jagged rocks. The mountain soared, steep and forbidding. Water dripped from cracks, icicles hanging over the void, glimmering in the white light from the cloudy skies. Birds circled overhead — large birds of prey, their plumage catching the light in odd ways, reflecting it like shards of mirrors.

Finn, a bow and a quiver of arrows slung across his back, knives sheathed all around his waist, was climbing the mountain face. A bundle hung at his back; his fur coat. He was clad in dirty white, tight pants, a grey tunic and knee-height boots with black straps. Muscles trembled in his arms and legs as he lifted his hand to seek another handhold.

A glow caught her eye. Familiar flowers grew in a dark crack in the rock — small, star-shaped blossoms.

Finn heaved himself over a rock ledge and crouched, catching his breath that rose in white puffs in the air. He was on the cusp of adulthood, his shoulders broad, his arms strong, his jaw square. He shaded his gaze with his hand and squinted up. Ella wondered what the hell he was seeing. It all looked like rock and more damn rock to her, and the drop below, beautiful and breathtaking as it was, sent cold sweat down her back.

Finn didn’t seem concerned. For someone who’d been thrown off a cliff as a child, he was surprisingly unafraid of heights.

 With a last glance around him, he started to climb. She stood watching him, his sure grip on the rocks, his confident motions. He was almost at the next rock ledge when a huge shadow fell on the mountain.

She turned. Enormous wings blotted out the light and a cry caught in her throat.

Dragon
.

A screech rent the air, rattling her teeth.
Oh god
. “Finn!”

He was scrambling down fast, his long hair whipping in the currents created by the dragon’s descent. As she watched, his hand slipped and he dropped.

She cried out, sure he was falling to his death, but he managed to halt, swinging from one hand over the abyss.

Holy shit
. She couldn’t breathe, her throat tight with fear.

The dragon dived toward him, iridescent, horns glinting like gold. Finn cursed, let go of his handhold.

Ella jerked toward him, but he caught himself again, his hands bleeding crimson on the white rock.

The dragon breathed a streak of fire and Ella gasped as Finn dropped again.

“Finn!” she yelled, heart in her throat, and jerked awake.

A moment passed before she could make sense of the soft pillow under her cheek and the shuttered window across the bed. She was in her bedroom, in their apartment. It had been a week since they’d returned from the military base. The weather had grown warmer; the days brighter.

She hadn’t shared a dream with Finn in a while.
Why now?

Shadows played on the wall and rippling light filled the room. She rolled on her back and rubbed her eyes, her heart thumping hard.

Finn stood by the bed, head bent, dark-tipped ears poking out of his ashen hair. The air shimmered in front of him — an oval, the size of a face mirror, hovered at eye-level.

A damn Gate
.

Sitting up, she scrambled back on the bed. As she stared, open-mouthed, Finn lifted his hand, long fingers extended, and reached into the shiny surface. Blinding bright lines undulated on his arm, on his calm face. He didn’t seem to be in pain.

She was afraid to speak. What if the Gate gobbled up his hand or something? But she must’ve made some noise because he turned slightly toward her, head tilted to the side.

Silver light filled his eyes.

Shit
. She shivered, hating the icy feeling of fear.

Finn returned his attention to the Gate, brow furrowing in concentration. A tremble went through him and he jerked his hand out, clenched in a loose fist. He nodded and the Gate shrank, glowing brighter for a moment like a supernova.

Then it vanished, leaving the room dark and brilliant afterimages branded into her retinas.

Ella sucked a hissing breath. “Finn?”

He didn’t move for a long moment, and she wasn’t sure he’d heard her. His skin glowed faintly in the gloom, the lines fading one by one, and his glittering hair began to dim.

In silence, he walked to the bed and sat next to her.

“You never stopped opening Gates, did you?” she asked faintly, afraid of the answer.

He shook his head.

“But how? I’m with you every night. Dave has had the perimeter watched. How did...”
Oh. Damn
. “You can close them. The Gates still open, but you close them before anything passes through.”

Finn pressed his lips together, then nodded.

“You can control them?” she asked breathlessly. “Can you open and close them at will? Can you—”

“No,” Finn said quietly. “I don’t know how to open them.”

Yet
. The word hung unspoken between them. Yeah, his magic was changing. Finn was changing. Growing stronger.

She didn’t know what to say.

He lifted his fisted hand toward her. He watched her under lowered lashes, his hand hovering.

“What is this?” Something glowed, caught between his fingers. “What did you do?”

“It’s called a starburst,” he said, his deep voice vibrating with some strong emotion.

His fingers uncurled. A star-shaped flowed sat on his palm, crystalline, giving off a faint glow and the scent of fresh snow.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, mesmerized. “That’s just... Why?”

In the glow of the flower, his eyes were warm and clear like gemstones. He tapped his chest with two fingers and smiled.

THE END of EPISODE FIVE

END of SEASON 1

I hope you have enjoyed
The Truth
(Episode Five of Boreal and John Grey).

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Author’s Note

I have always had a fascination with elves and fairies – dragons, too. I am a big Tolkien fan, and have studied fairytales and legends of the world, hoping to understand what these creatures mean, what their origins are and how they differ between cultures. I found the Nordic elves fascinating, hence the decision to base my elves in large part on the Norse mythology. The opening quotes of most of the episodes are based on transcriptions of the Scandinavian epic saga Edda (Younger Edda or Prose Edda) which speaks of the Aesir (the gods), the Aelfar (the elves), distinguishing between Light and Dark elves, and the Duergar or dwarves which may or may not be the same creatures as the Dark elves. Giants are also mentioned, Yggdrasil the world ash tree from which the worlds hang, and the halls of Hell made of the spines of serpents... I think it’s a fascinating mythology.  

The idea of Boreal and John Grey has existed in my mind (and my notebook) for many years – minus the mythological side. The series name was one of the first things I jotted down about ten years ago. I imagined a man jumping between worlds, one of which was in an ice age (hence the “Boreal” part), being quite different in every world and not sure how to find the way back. Obviously, the story line changed quite a lot in this version. But for almost as long I’ve wanted to write a story about a female lead, a police investigator, and her elf partner, so I was very pleased when I thought of merging the two ideas, coming up with Ella and Finn.