Boreal and John Grey Season 1

by Chrystalla Thoma

  Mouth set in a hard line, he shot his food a suspicious look. He poked the bacon with the fork, took the bread and started eating like a man on a mission. She only hoped he wouldn’t make himself sick.

  He did slow down after the first few bites, grimacing, and pushed his plate back.

  Canteen food, my man. Heals you or kills you. “Feeling better?”

  He nodded, although he didn’t really look it.

  Vowing to buy some lighter food for him later, she slid her chair back with a screech. “Let’s get your badge.”

  He stood with a wince. “I need to see the skin.”

  “In a moment.” She was just as anxious as Finn to visit the lab, but she wanted to make the partnership official before Dave changed his mind.

  Where the hell had Simon been headed that fateful night? Corner of Madison and Connegut. Just residential buildings and parks and... the Stevenson Library, a private collection. She thought of the code on the paper Simon had left wedged under his table.

  A book. A library.

  Son of a bitch.

  ***

  “What else did they say about the skin?” Finn edged away from the camera, giving it a distrustful look.

  “I said you need to take off that bandana.” Officer Celia Kollett was in charge of producing Finn’s temporary badge and she was quickly discovering the joys of working with him. “Those are the regulations. We can stay here all day, honey.”

  Finn didn’t even blink. Probably hadn’t heard a single word Celia had said. He scowled. “What about the claw marks?”

  “We’ll talk about it later. Just take off the bandana and let’s finish here.” Ella kept loading her handgun. She’d need to ask for supplies soon.

  “No.”

  Ella looked up. Finn glowered, arms folded over his chest. God, he was serious.

  “Head must be uncovered.” Celia lifted her hands, exasperated. “It’s for our digital records.”

  “Can he leave the bandana on? He actually never takes it off,” Ella said, and saw Finn’s shoulders relax. “He’s only temporary, until the Central sends me a replacement. Nobody will know.”

  Celia sighed, rolling her eyes heavenward. “I swear, Ella, for every regulation you follow, you break two.”

  Ella shrugged. “It’s been a hard day.”

  “I heard. I’m sorry.” Celia nodded, mouth turning down at the corners. “Ah, what the heck.” She printed the temporary badge and slapped a plastic over it. She flourished it at Finn. “Ta-da!”

  He grabbed it, not even glancing at it, and shoved it into the back pocket of his pants. “We should go to the lab.”

  “Slow down.” Ella started toward the door. “You were barely conscious half an hour ago. Armory’s next. You need weapons.”

  He fell into step next to her, ignoring a bemused Celia who was wiggling her fingers goodbye. “Ella—”

  “Finn.” She strode faster. “I need a partner who’s official so Dave won’t pull me off the case, and healthy enough not to fall on his face if and when the Shades decide to attack again.”

  She chanced a glance at him and winced. If looks could kill, she’d be toast by now. Finn didn’t say “Yes, Mom”, but she could practically hear it.

  “Sorry.” She slowed with an inward sigh. “But I can’t skip any more bureaucratic steps. Just bear with me for now, okay? And you do need a gun. You know how to use one?”

  “I prefer blades.” That odd accent of his was thicker, maddening like an itch. And that wasn’t an answer.

  “You don’t, then?”

  He glowered.

  Interrogation obviously didn’t sit well with Finn. Heavy-handed, Ella. Simon always said so. If only Finn deigned to answer from time to time...

  The armory was on sublevel 4, so they took the elevator down two floors. The door opened with her code and they entered the cavernous hall where the instruments of death were hoarded.

  Jeff lifted his shaggy head from a machine gun he’d been examining, nodded at her, and then his dark eyes fixed on Finn. “And who’s this, Elly?”

  “Jefferson, meet my new temporary partner, Finn.”

  Jeff gave Finn a long look, scratching his scraggly beard, then nodded again. “Heard about Simon. I’m sorry.”

  There was nothing to say to that, so she shoved her hands into her pockets and took a deep breath. When had breathing become a conscious act? She felt she couldn’t get enough air.

  “Finn needs knives, a gun and ammo,” she informed Jeff and rested her gaze on his collection. There was something soothing in the rows of shiny, dark guns.

  Finn’s attention had strayed to a counter covered in blades of all shapes and sizes. He reverently touched a katana. Then he lifted a throwing knife. He twirled it between his slender fingers and Ella wondered if he’d cut himself to shreds. But he didn’t.

  Her new partner. She shook her head in disbelief. How had things changed so fast?

  “Grab two of those,” Jeff told Finn who jerked back and almost dropped the knife. Jesus, talk about jumpy. “And throwing stars. Shuriken. Good for catching the Shades from a distance. Pure iron, special delivery, came in today.”

  Finn hesitated, glanced from Jeff to Ella, then ran his hands over the knives and stars. His eyes fluttered closed, as if he were playing a musical instrument, fingers moving lightly over the shiny blades. Ella held her breath.

  “Good weapons,” Jeff said, “all of them.”

  That snapped Finn out of his trance. With a little sniff, as if to say he’d be the judge of that, he proceeded to pick up various knives and test their balance and grip, spinning and thrusting them through the air. So graceful. It reminded her of the first time she’d seen him fighting Shades, moving like a dancer through the night.

  When Finn selected two knives and prepared to pass them through his belt, she turned to Jeff. “Sheaths?”

  “Sheaths, yeah.” Jeff, who’d been staring at Finn, blinked and pulled out several from a drawer. He threw them at Finn who snatched them out of the air without missing a beat.

  Jeff whistled, brows rising into his hairline.

  Finn lifted his shirt and took off his belt to attach the sheaths, and Ella had to drag her gaze away from his perfect abs. She resisted the urge to fan herself. Whoa, baby. How hadn’t she noticed the night before?

  Oh, right. Finn, passed out in her car and then her couch, covered in blood. His abs hadn’t really been the first thing on her mind.

  “That looks like a nasty wound.” Jeff nodded at the stained bandage on Finn’s side, and she made a mental note to check that too, later. Soon she’d need an organizer for all those mental lists.

  Finn buckled the belt and sheathed his knives. He looked up and grinned. His smile was startlingly beautiful and she found herself gaping — again. God, get a hold on yourself, girl.

  “Like a porcupine,” she muttered, her own lips lifting in a matching smile. It was nice to see Finn happy — or at least pleased with his weapons. “What about guns?”

  “Here, Finn.” Jeff lifted a Heckler and Koch USP CT pistol for inspection, a calculating gleam in his eye. What was he going for? “Semi-automatic, lightweight and accurate. Give it a try.”

  A concentrated look on his face, Finn stepped forward to receive it. She opened her mouth to ask if he knew how to use it, but she needn’t have worried. He checked the magazine, and when Jeff threw him a shoulder holster, he pulled it on, tugging on the black leather straps as if he’d been doing it all his life.

  Jesus. Who was he anyway?

  The straps pulled on the neckline of his t-shirt, exposing a swath of muscled chest and his left shoulder. Before he adjusted it, a mark drew her eye, sort of like a starburst. A birth-mark?

  “Have you used one of these before?” Jeff beamed at Finn, obviously considering him a kindred spirit.

  “Similar one,” Finn grunted. He sheathed the pistol in one of the two holsters hanging over his ribs and folded his arms. Armed to the teeth, legs spread, head
bowed, he looked ready to take on a whole army of Shades.

  Jeff winked at Ella. “Well, well, Elly. Where did you find him? Ex military, is he?”

  That was a thought. Might also explain why Finn was so mum about his identity and past. “Thanks, Jefferson. Now we can go to the lab. Finn?”

  Finn lifted his head, his gaze unfocused. “At your command,” he whispered, shoulders tensing, back straightening, and the funny thing was he didn’t seem to be pulling her leg at all.

  ***

  “It’s a piece of white skin,” Jake the lab technician said, motioning at the report on his desk. “Thick and tough like an elephant’s hide.”

  The small laboratory had a contract with the Paranormal Bureau, all the better for keeping their secrets. No other technicians were in today — just the three of them among the white counters and shelves laden with vials and bottles.

  “An albino elephant?” Ella made a face.

  Jake chuckled and scratched his clean-shaven chin. “Yeah, well...”

  “If the skin’s so thick, how the hell did Simon grab a sample?”

  “We think the creature might be molting; shedding its epidermis. You know, the way snakes do as they grow. Anyway, that’s our working hypothesis.”

  Ella rubbed her face. “And the analysis?”

  “The DNA analysis suggests something vaguely similar to a reptile. There was a little bit of sequence similarity there, but a lot of it doesn’t match anything we have in our databases.”

  She scanned the report. Simon’s weapons hadn’t been used, his gun hadn’t fired, his knives were clean. As if he’d been caught by surprise.

  Finn was leaning against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets. “The skin, does it have any feathers or scales?”

  Jake blinked up at him. “Who are you?”

  “Finn. He’s with me,” Ella said. My new, sullen partner.

  “Right.” Jake looked Finn up and down. “And how did you...? Nevermind.” He cleared his throat. “There was a scale attached to it, coated in an iridescent film, much like—”

  “Where is it?” Finn pushed off the wall with a grunt.

  Jake gestured at the microscope. “It’s there. Help yourself.” He turned to Ella. “I was going to tell you, but first we wanted to be sure—”

  “No worries.” Ella kept her eyes on Finn who bent to look through the lens. When he straightened, he was a new shade of pale. “Finn? What is it?”

  “We thought of snakes, albino snakes, some new species,” Jake was saying, “but the claw marks discount that possibility, and the—”

  “Freki,” Finn said. “Wolf.”

  Jake gaped, then grinned and wagged a finger at Finn. “Oh, that’s a good one. Scaly wolves. That’s funny, that’s...”

  Finn didn’t look amused; in fact he managed to look both pissed and horrified. His eyes were wide. “Inguz dyr,” he hissed, or something like it, spitting it like a curse. His nostrils flared, and his hands twitched against his sides. “Adramar.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  Finn shook his head and limped toward the door, still muttering.

  A perfect partnership.

  “What’s going on?” Jake glanced from Finn’s retreating form to Ella and back. “What’s up with him?”

  Damn if she knew. “Jake, you’re sure you’ve never seen anything like it?”

  “Not that I can recall, no. I’ll have to go through the archives, see what I can dig out.”

  “Do that. Let me know if you find anything else.” Ella grabbed her backpack and strode outside, through dim corridors and the empty lobby. “Finn? Wait.”

  ***

  The snow that piled up overnight had melted, leaving muddy pools and dirty patches. Finn stood by the car, hands fisted at his sides, staring into the distance. She came around to face him. His gaze was bleak.

  “Okay, Finn, spill.” She laid a hand on his arm and he recoiled. She let it drop. “What’s that scale?”

  Finn grimaced. “The Gates,” he whispered with a shuddering breath. “Too late.”

  “For what?” Cold born of fear spread its tentacles inside her. “Are you saying something came through a Gate and got Simon? Whatever it is, I’ll kill it.”

  He gave a bark of laughter, short and bitter. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

  “But you obviously do, so talk to me. What’s Adramar?”

  “The Queen.”

  “Queen of Aelfheim?”

  “Aelfheim.” The way he pronounced the word was odd — drawn out but the consonants harsh, infused with longing, sorrow and anger all at once.

  “What of Aelfheim?”

  “It’s... a cold world.” Finn stared blankly ahead, his hands clenching and unclenching. As if on cue, snowflakes drifted down, catching in his hair. When had it started snowing again?

  “Finn?”

  He shuddered, as if coming out of a dream. “The cold age lasted forever. Snow and ice. When the frost didn’t end, when the snow reached a man’s height, the People looked for another world.” It sounded like a passage from an epic, lines learned by heart.

  “People?”

  “Aelfar. Through the Gates, they first sent the small ones — f+frildia ok fuglar.”

  “Insects. And birds?” Her Old Norse was a little rusty. “Why the hell are you talking to me in a dead language?”

  “Then they sent their animals.” His voice dropped. “Frekar, nadrar, drekar.”

  “Frekar.” She frowned. “Wolves. Wolves, snakes and dragons?”

  He peered at her, strands of silvery hair blowing across his face. “Yes. The white animals of Aelfheim crossed, and then the Boreals.”

  “You’re saying that’s what’s happening? They’re getting ready to cross?” She swallowed, her throat gone dry. “You could be wrong. Maybe it was something else.”

  “Wishful thinking.” A tremor went through Finn.

  Damn, the rising breeze was icy-cold. “Let’s get in the car.”

  Ella squelched her way around the car and climbed inside. She waited for Finn to take his seat, her hands resting on the wheel, and gave him a sideways look. She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but he raised his hand to stop her.

  “Sh.” Finn leaned forward, his gaze narrow and focused like a laser beam. Then his breath hissed out and he gripped the dashboard, making it creak. “Drive.”

  “Look, this isn’t—”

  “Vaettir.” He reached up and yanked out his pistol. “Shades.”

  “What?” It took her a moment to comprehend, then something smashed into the windshield. With a gasp, she revved the car, set it in reverse and backed out into the street. “What the hell?” And just when Finn had finally decided to start talking. Figured.

  A hunchback goblin intercepted them and she spun the wheel to avoid it. Cars honked and pedestrians jumped out of the way. Another hit broke one of the back door windows.

  Finn raised his pistol, twisted in his seat, and fired through the rear windshield, smashing it. The goblin staggered, then faded. Cold air blasted through the broken window.

  “Go,” he snapped.

  Why hadn’t she heard the Shades arrive? She stepped on the gas and sped down the street, trying not to look over her shoulder. Finn fired another round, then climbed into the back seat.

  “Finn!” What was he doing?

  A growl sounded so close to her ear the hairs on her nape lifted. The car shook. Goddammit, something was inside with them. She tried to see in the rear-view mirror, but all she saw was a tangle of limbs, human and leathery goblin-like. Fuck.

  A honk brought her attention back to the road and she swerved to avoid a frontal collision with a van. Finn yelped and she glanced around, her heart pounding in her throat. A blade flashed, and then she had to turn to the street again, just in time to avoid climbing a sidewalk.

  Something smacked into her seat, throwing her forward. Blades swished and Finn grunted, crashing into the back of the ot
her seat. A leathery fist closed around his arm and hauled him out of sight. Damn. The car rocked, its springs whining.

  Seeing a parking space at the street side, she threw the car into it and pulled the handbrake. Drawing her knife, she twisted around and barely escaped a blow from a clawed hand.

  “Down!” Finn shouted, long knives slashing through the air. She ducked behind the seat as a screech filled the car, threatening to burst her eardrums.

  When she peeked around the backrest, there was only Finn kneeling, his knives dripping clear ichor. He looked unharmed, and Ella’s heart settled a little.

  “No warning,” she said and he lifted his gaze, focusing on her. “First time I get no warning Shades are coming. No sounds, no wind blowing. Nada.”

  He looked down at his knives, then bent to retrieve his pistol from the floor.

  “Thanks,” Ella said with sincerity. “I owe you again.”

  Hands shaking only a little, she sat back behind the wheel and waited as Finn clambered forward to join her, his movements slow and clumsy. He straightened his leg with a soft groan and cradled his swollen wrist against his chest. Lines of pain had formed around his mouth. Damn, he looked exhausted.

  “So,” she said, “how do you know all that stuff about Aelfheim?”

  Finn glared at the dashboard, lips pressed together.

  She leaned over and buckled him in, then looked up to find his clear gaze on her, so close. A flush warmed her cheeks.

  Straightening, she belted herself in and took the wheel. “I mean, how do you know Aelfheim is cold? And that the elves would send these white animals through?”

  Finn shrugged and winced. He turned his glare outside.

  Right. He’d reached his word limit for the day, apparently.

  Pulling out into the street, she checked in the rearview mirror, making sure no Shade was lurking on the back seat or the street. It was clear. Heaving a sigh of relief, she drove away, already hearing the police sirens. Let them handle the panicked people. At least nobody had died.

  And Finn... Glancing at him, she saw his head dip forward. Fear seized her chest. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he slurred, blinking blearily. His color was good, she decided, relieved. He was just falling asleep, in spite of the cold air rushing through the broken windows.