Boreal and John Grey Season 1

by Chrystalla Thoma

  But Finn had apparently seen her face only and no other. Damn, he’d said she made him feel safe, and now...

  If the Gates were connected to Finn’s dreams, it made sense his interrupted sleep would lead to interrupted portals. Whereas, when Finn slept by her side, he felt safe and slept soundly, not waking.

  Forming perfect Gates.

  She wasn’t stabilizing the Gates. She was stabilizing Finn. Shoot me now. She eyed Dave’s gun. Or rather not.

  “I see,” she said, her mind a whirlwind. “You’ve got it all figured out.” Or so you think.

  “Insubordination and concealment of important information,” Dave grated. “I could remove your badge and throw you into jail.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  Because he wanted her to lead him to Finn, obviously. She lifted her chin. She had to find Finn and put Dave off her trail. How?

  “I’ve lost enough agents already,” Dave muttered and holstered his gun. “We’ll find him, with or without your help. If you tell us where he is, we might arrive before he bleeds to death.”

  “You want me to believe you won’t put a bullet in his head as soon as you see him.”

  It had been a mistake, saying those words. Dave’s eyes gleamed. “So you do know where he is.”

  “Dammit, Dave, I told you I don’t. I know nothing about him, his friends or haunts. He’s not the talkative kind, you know.”

  Anger drew his features into harsh lines. “Fine. You’re staying here, in case he shows up. If you remember where he might be, let me know. You have my number.”

  “I’m to be a prisoner in my own home?”

  “Unless you prefer a prison cell. Don’t get any ideas. I’ve got men posted outside, downstairs, at the fire-escape and around the building.” He signaled at the two officers. “Keep an eye on her at all times. Call me if anything changes.”

  He left them guarding her door.

  Ella watched Dave go. Leaving was his first mistake. She’d find a way to get out before he came back.

  ***

  The two men observed her as she puttered around the kitchen, fixing herself a cup of tea and trying to remember when she’d last eaten. She found some stale bread and ham and slapped together a sandwich. Her stomach roiled at the thought of eating, but she had to keep her strength if she was to help Finn.

  Munching on the hard bread, she wandered to the windows of the living room. The men tensed. What? She wasn’t going to climb down the building facade; she wasn’t Finn.

  She sat on the couch, washing the sandwich down with lukewarm tea. He wasn’t any more responsible for his ability than she was. Hadn’t used his magic on purpose any more than she had.

  Was there a way to neutralize a magical ability? Who might know?

  Sarah. Maybe Simon’s girlfriend knew someone or something to help fix this. In that secret organization, there had to be knowledgeable people to ask, though Dave shouldn’t get a whiff.

  If she found a way out of the building. If she managed to contact Sarah. If Sarah could help.

  Well, there was only one way of knowing, wasn’t there?

  She put down her cup and considered her options. According to Dave, men were posted around the building watching every possible way down, including the fire escape.

  Fine, Dave. The game’s on.

  She rummaged in her backpack, which they’d already checked, and snagged some money, her cards and driver’s license, and pulled them out, keeping her hands hidden.

  The officers gave her disinterested looks.

  She pretended to doze for a while, watching them under lowered lids as they grew bored and sleepy. It was two in the morning.

  Stuffing her cards and money into her back pocket, she got up to wash the dishes. One of the men wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the wall, waiting for her to finish.

  Next she visited the bathroom and the guy followed her inside, checking that the window was too small for her to pass and that there was no ladder outside. She folded her arms while he completed his inspection, then gave the door a pointed look until he left her the hell alone.

  She leaned on the closed door, relishing the brief moment of privacy. Right. Now, a plan. Not much time before Dave returned — or Finn bled to death.

  Do it. Now, before the dawn.

  Stepping into the shower brought back tactile memories of Finn, the feel of his skin under her fingertips, his lips against hers. She scrubbed herself viciously with the sponge, striving for focus. The plan was forming in her mind, the paths of actions and possibilities entwining like vines.

  Wrapping a towel around her, she stepped out of the bathroom and made a show of closing her bedroom door.

  Of course the guy came to investigate, frowning darkly. “Doors must remain open.”

  “I need a few minutes to get dressed,” she said, stepping toward the bed. “Is that a problem?”

  He tsked. Giving the room a brief check, as if he hadn’t looked into its every corner already, he went to the window and opened it, letting in frigid air. There were pipes alongside the window, she knew, and she’d seen the man posted right below. Dave had taken no risks.

  The officer closed the window and nodded. “Fine. Don’t take too long.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him only after he’d shut the door. She hadn’t talked back or made any rude comment about his ancestors. See? She could be mature when she needed to be.

  Throwing the towel on the bed, she pulled on black pants and a blouse, a dark sweater, and her dark blue hiking boots.

  Hurry, hurry.

  She stuffed her cards and money in a small backpack she grabbed from her closet, and the contents of a medic-kit, plus a flashlight. That robotic ass, Dave, had taken away her mobile phone.

  She paused, listening for any sign of the officers coming to check on her.

  Silence.

  Letting out a breath, she shouldered the backpack and opened the window. She leaned out. Faint light from the street below seeped into the night, allowing her to see the pipes running alongside the window.

  The street was so far down, the small lights danced in her vision. Hell. She’d never liked heights and vertigo threatened. Biting her lip, trying not to think beyond her next move, she climbed onto the window sill and grabbed the pipes.

  Dave had posted men below.

  But not above.

  The pipes were old; she hoped they wouldn’t give up the ghost tonight. Her boots found purchase on the metal rings and she shifted her hold higher, standing. Wind gusts whipped her back, tugged on her wet ponytail.

  A shudder went through her. Terror was curling in her stomach, making her grasp shake.

  For you, Finn. You’d better be alive to appreciate it.

  Before panic crushed her, she forced her numb limbs into action and began her climb. Aware of the policeman posted below, she flinched at every creak of the pipes, every scuffle of her feet on the rings.

  Higher, just a little higher, she promised herself, her teeth clenched. You can do this.

  Her foot slipped and she gasped, grabbing the pipes. The groan that went through the metal froze her. The officer below had to have heard it.

  But the wind wheezed and whined all around, and in any case, too late for a panic attack. There was no way but up if she wanted to survive.

  Her groping hand found the ledge of the building and she hauled herself higher, thanking all the years she’d spent at the gym. She threw a leg over the top. She angled for another hold and a sharp pain in her hand almost threw her off the building. Something had sliced into her flesh.

  Damn.

  Another heave, her arms burning as she hauled herself up, and she fell over the low wall onto the terrace. She rolled on her back, gasping for breath, every muscle turned to jelly, the old fracture in her leg throbbing and smarting.

  Get up. The clouds above spun in slow circles, the half moon darting behind them. Soon the men in her apartment would know she was gone and the manhunt wo
uld begin.

  Dragging her sorry ass off the wet concrete, she stood on the terrace, her hair lashing her neck, and checked her backpack was still in one piece.

  The next building almost touched the one she stood on. Jogging to the seam between them, she took a deep breath and jumped over to the next terrace. She landed on bent knees, her bad leg aching, straightened and ran across the rooftop, gripping the straps of her backpack.

  The moon had rolled behind the clouds and she didn’t want to use her flashlight. She kept to the middle of the terrace, gripped by an irrational fear she’d walk off the edge and fall to her death.

  If she managed to move a few buildings down the street, she’d be far enough to put her pursuers off her scent.

  She could do this.

  Piece of cake, compared to finding Finn when he didn’t want to be found.

  Chapter Two

  Hunter

  Ella crouched behind a dumpster as angry voices and running footsteps approached, then faded down the avenue.

  So far so good. Finding a building with an unlocked roof hatch had been a bitch, but afterward she’d been able to slip out into the night.

  She started to rise from her hideout when she heard a shout nearby and sank back down. Peering around the corner, she saw three figures in uniform standing under a streetlight, guns out and pointing down.

  Time to get out of there, before they brought in the dogs. In fact, she’d love to circle back to her building and look for a trail. Not a trail of breadcrumbs; a trail of blood. It was possible Finn had left traces, no matter how careful he was.

  Then again, that would also be Dave’s first thought, and besides, Finn was a hunter. If he could still think straight, erasing his trail would be top on his list of priorities.

  Talking of blood trails... She tightened the bandage she’d wrapped around her hand until she was sure the bleeding had stopped. Quiet settled around her and she dared peek around the dumpster to check. The men were gone.

  Getting as far away from her building as possible would be best, and that would be Finn’s thought as well. He had money on him, and could easily have picked a cab.

  But where to?

  Norma Jones. Finn’s ex girlfriend... or not. Ella shook her head. She’d believed it once, but now?

  Still... It was the only friend Finn had ever mentioned. Would he have taken the bus to Jamesville? She recalled the puddle of blood on the floor and hesitated. Finn was a stubborn bastard, sure, and he’d gone and made his escape where none seemed possible, but he was still badly hurt.

  He might have called and asked for help, though. Maybe Norma Jones knew where Finn was hiding.

  Ella crept out of her hiding place and flagged a taxi. Two minutes later, she was seated in the warm interior, slowly thawing.

  “Corner of Madison and Kentucky, seaside,” she told the taxi driver and settled back on the padded seat, watching the colored lights of all-night shops flicker by. Her hand throbbed. She clenched it into a fist, feeling blood seep from the bandage and trickle between her fingers.

  Next on the list: find that Norma Jones’ number and use her virtually non-existent charm to find out if Finn had been in contact.

  As plans went, it was as far-fetched as it got. But right now she could think of nothing else to guide her to Finn, and she’d grasp at any straw.

  ***

  The hotel was white and blue with anchors painted on either side of the entrance. Docks. Nautical theme. Yeah, yeah. It stood right opposite Bellini’s, Mike’s favorite Italian restaurant, which was how she knew the hotel in the first place.

  She paid the taxi and tugged on the straps of her backpack, well aware she was running a race against time and didn’t even know where the finish line lay.

  Glad to be out of the cold, she gave the receptionist a false name and climbed up to her second floor room with its single bed, its lamp in the shape of a boat and more blue and white everywhere.

  Dropping on the bed, she reached for the telephone on the nightstand. The service operator sounded sleepy, her voice dragging. It had to be around four in the morning. The name, town and state seemed to strike her as inadequate.

  “But her address?” the woman insisted.

  “That’s all I have,” Ella muttered. “It’s a small town, you can find her.” If Norma was listed. “Please. It’s urgent.”

  The operator grumbled something and silence stretched. Ella found herself drumming her fingers on the nightstand.

  “All right, I’ve got her,” the operator chirped and rattled off the number. Ella could have kissed her. There was a moment of panic as she scrambled to find a pen and a piece of paper — thankfully there was a complimentary pad on the table by the window — and jotted the number down.

  She hung up and sighed. Maybe some god up there was finally paying attention.

  That, or toying with her.

  Her fingers shook as she tapped the number and waited. The phone rang. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six, Seven times. Eight. Nine. Ten.

  Dammit. She hung up, trying to control her panicked breathing. Hyperventilating wouldn’t help anyone.

  After a moment, she rang again, biting on a cuticle. Damn, where was the woman? Did that mean Finn hadn’t reached her? Or that she was with him, taking him to a hospital? Or worse, that hell had broken loose, police pursuing them or Shades attacking them?

  With Ella’s luck, it was probably the latter.

  She almost sobbed with relief when she heard a woman’s voice answer at the other end.

  “Who is this?” The voice was raspy and thin, not at all what Ella had expected.

  “Hi!” She swallowed. “I’m Ella Benson, a friend of Finn’s. Are you Norma Jones?”

  Nothing happened for a few beats and Ella was about ready to chew through the cable, when the woman coughed.

  “Yes, I am Norma. Who are you? Did you say something about Finn?”

  God, patience. “Benson, friend of Finn’s. He said you used to work together in a diner in Blackwater.”

  Another beat of silence and Ella wanted to scream and pound on the walls. “Please,” she said, forcing steel into her voice. “It’s important. I’m worried about Finn. Is he there with you? Has he called you? Do you know where he is?”

  “Honey,” Norma said. “Calm down. Now, why would you think Finn is here?”

  Hope flared in Ella’s chest. “So he is?” She leaned forward and gripped the edge of the bedside table. “Listen to me, Norma, this is important. You can’t take him to a hospital. I’ll come over and I’ll bring a trusted doctor with me to have a look at the bullet wound—”

  “Bullet wound?” Norma’s voice rose an octave. “Slow down now. We are talking about the same Finn, right? A tall, thin man, with blond hair?”

  “Yes.” Sudden doubt assaulted Ella. “He is there, isn’t he?” Oh god, please. “Or has he contacted you? Do you know where he is?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Norma said, and Ella fell back, her breath knocked out of her.

  She’d been so certain... She knew of no other person Finn would contact. If he hadn’t, then did that mean...

  The room spun, and she closed her eyes, swallowing bile. She’d failed him. She’d find him dead, like Simon.

  “Ella,” Norma said in a careful voice. “Finn was shot?”

  Ella forced her eyes open. “Yes, early this morning. I thought he’d come to you. Do you know where he might go, has he mentioned any other friends?”

  “No. He was always a quiet man,” Norma said. “Never said much.”

  And wasn’t that the understatement of the century. “Well, sorry I woke you up.” Ella drew another shaky breath. “The police might come to ask you questions. Be truthful. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  “The police? What happened? What did he do?”

  “Nothing. Not his fault. Forget it.” Ella rubbed her stinging eyes. “I have to go now. I need to find him before it’s too late.”

  “Oh dear,”
Norma said, her voice wavering. “I just can’t believe it.”

  And she didn’t know half of it. “Please don’t tell anyone I called.” Could Ella trust her?

  Did she have a choice?

  She needed to start searching the city. Maybe start with the Stadium where he used to stay. “Goodbye then and—”

  “Shush. I’m thinking, honey,” Norma said. “Let me see if I can remember anything useful. It’s been quite a few months since I left Blackwater. Finn never spoke much. Didn’t go out, or do sports. He told me he didn’t sleep very well.”

  Ella nodded. That was the Finn she knew, alright. “Has he ever mentioned any specific place, any motel or store?”

  What was she hoping to find? Maybe Finn had holed up at a random motel, or squatted like he used to.

  Like he used to. Wait. He was hurt and lost. In his shoes, she’d fall back to old survival habits. “What would a hunter do?” The question left her lips before she’d realized.

  “A hunter? My dad used to hunt. Camouflage was everything, he’d say.”

  Camouflage. Ella rubbed her throbbing temple. What if he hadn’t made it to a taxi or bus? What if he’d been cut off by Dave’s men — or worse, what if he couldn’t go on and had holed up somewhere? Hiding in plain sight?

  He’d been an elf among humans for a long time. Pretending to be something else was his specialty.

  Now, if she wanted to find him, she had to do the same. ‘If you can’t go on, then hide.’ Finn had said that to her. “I have to go. Sorry to have bothered you, Norma.”

  “Wait. I’m on my way to find you. Where are you?”

  “No way,” Ella muttered. “Stay put. I’ll let you know if I find—”

  “He’s hurt and I’m a certified nurse. Are you in the city? I can be there in two hours. Tell me what you need.”

  “Norma...” Who to trust? What to do?

  “He’s stood by me,” Norma said, her tone defiant. “I left due to medical issues, and he gave me money to pay the bills. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had. I owe him.”

  “If anything happens to you, he’ll kill me.”

  “Not if he doesn’t live through the night,” Norma said. “Look, honey, I’m ill. I might as well go down fighting. For Finn. So what do you say?”