Boreal and John Grey Season 1

by Chrystalla Thoma

  “Try harder?” Mike suggested.

  Screw you, Mike.

  “Maybe you also need to feel safe,” Mike muttered. “You both need time together and... Oh my gosh, that’s so romantic. I’ve got it. You need to love him and make him forget all the pain.” He winked. “Some sex wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Not sure it helped so far,” Ella muttered.

  Mike raised both brows. “More and wilder sex, then?”

  “Oh, shut up.” Her face flamed. “Let’s recap. You suggest I cuddle with Finn and make him feel safe.” And wouldn’t that be so freaking wonderful. “Also that I manage to become active in his dreams and change his memories to better ones, stopping his magic.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t mind a break from running for our lives, either. But how? It’s only a matter of time before Dave finds out we’re here. The information’s bound to leak out.”

  She’d barely stopped talking when a thin buzzing reached her ears. Mike looked up.

  Up.

  Oh shit.

  “Helicopters,” Ella breathed. “We got a leak already.” Either Sarah had freed herself, a member of the staff had discovered her, or Dave had found them all on his own. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the means.

  Mike clenched his jaw and drew Sarah’s gun from his belt. “Let’s go face David Holborn.”

  Us and what army? Ella wanted to say but didn’t. It wasn’t funny. Yeah, not funny at all.

  Chapter Seven

  Control

  Finn was swinging his legs off the bed when Ella entered his room. “I want my knives,” he rasped.

  “What are you doing?” She reached his side just as he was struggling to stand. “You must rest.” She pushed him back down until he sank on the mattress. His smell of spice was faint beneath the layers of antiseptic and blood.

  “They’re here,” he whispered. “I can’t run. I want my knives.”

  “You just need to rest, you’ll be fine—”

  “I can’t run,” he repeated. He looked up, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “I’ll give myself up.”

  “No.” It came out as a half shout, and she forced herself to take a calming breath. “No way. We have a plan.”

  Hope flashed through his eyes, then he looked away. “A plan.” There was a new tension in his body, as if he wanted to believe her but didn’t dare.

  He was right to be distrustful. It wasn’t as if it was a real plan, just the seeds of one.

  “The knives. If you’re going to give yourself up, what do you want them for?”

  “Neith gave them to me,” Finn whispered.

  The only thing he had from his world and from his past. She watched the emotions play on his face, the fear, the sorrow, the acceptance of his fate.

  And she’d be damned if she let go of him that easily.

  “Listen to me.” She sat by his side and took his hand, tangled her fingers with his. He stared down at them.

  “I don’t want you hurt,” he whispered.

  “Listen,” she said again and turned his hand over to see his chafed knuckles. “There’s a way to stop the Gates from opening. But you’ll have to trust me.”

  “I trust you.” No hesitation.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, because she was going to fall apart and couldn’t, not now. Then she cupped his cheek, traced the high cheekbone and the sharp angle of his jaw. “You must do as I say. Lie down and look harmless. Say nothing. Leave the talking to me.”

  “Talking?” he muttered.

  She grinned at his confused frown. “I said I have a plan, didn’t I?”

  An idea was forming in her mind. If only she managed to get Dave to listen before shooting again, maybe there was a chance.

  ***

  Ella had just pulled the sheet up to Finn’s chest when the door to the room burst open. Armed police spilled inside, guns pointed.

  She forced herself not to go for a weapon but stand still and wait. Glancing at Finn, she found him glaring at the ceiling, arms by his sides. His idea of looking harmless.

  Then Dave entered, flanked by two men bearing machine guns. His face was set in stony lines, but otherwise he looked the same he always had — the same three-day stubble, the same bags under his eyes, the same grey hair. The seam that marked him as a Guardian was invisible to her now. She felt no fury; only fear and stomach-burning nerves.

  Outside she could hear Mike arguing loudly with someone; probably asking to come inside.

  The men spread out, surrounding Finn’s bed, sighting down at him. Finn let out a small sigh and closed his eyes.

  She forced herself not to move. Her chest felt about to explode.

  “Ella.” Dave stopped but gave no signal to his men to start shooting. Not yet, anyway.

  “You found us,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “Good. We need to talk.”

  He cocked his head to the side. So human-like. “Do we now?”

  “You haven’t tried to kill me.”

  “That could be remedied,” he said.

  “Really?” She folded her arms over her chest. “Why are you trying to keep me alive, Dave?”

  “You’re the strongest Stabilizer. If another John Grey comes, you’ll be connected to him as well. You can find him for us.”

  “As soon as you kill Finn, another John Grey will be born to take his place. And now the elves know what to look for. They’ll find him since he’s a baby, protect him, manipulate him, and control him. They’ll raise him, Dave. In twenty years they’ll be back and there will be no stopping them. Is this what you want?”

  Dave frowned. “What are you driving at?”

  The room swam in her eyes. She drew a long breath. “I’m saying you’re making a huge mistake. Finn’s on our side, and for as long as he lives, there won’t be another. If he can control his magic, then the Gates will be safe, closed.”

  “He’s out of control.”

  “There’s a way to counteract his magic. Wouldn’t you rather take that chance and keep the Gates safe, than start the guessing game again, hoping the elves will make the same mistake and deliver the next John Grey to us?” She shook her head and instantly regretted it. So dizzy. “That would make them very stupid, though, and somehow I don’t think that’s true. I think this time they’ll keep John Grey so well guarded we won’t even know what hit us until they’re here, owning our world.”

  Dave flinched.

  “What is your mission?” Ella asked, taking a step toward him.

  One of the men moved forward but Dave gestured for him to stay. “My directive is to stop the Gates from opening and protect this world from an invasion by the Ljosaelfar.”

  “So your directive isn’t to kill John Grey.”

  Still frowning, Dave shook his head. “No. Not specifically.”

  “If there’s a way to control his magic so that no more Gates open, wouldn’t that fulfill your directive?”

  Dave hesitated, his gaze shifting to Finn who was staring at them, his eyes wide. “Yes, it would. Am I to understand you found the way to control it?”

  “I have.” Her nails bit into her palms. “I’m not just the strongest Stabilizer. I’m bound to Finn and with my help he can take control of his magic. But I’ll need your support.”

  “You’re asking me to take a tremendous risk. What if you fail? What if he opens a Gate that lets the elves through in spite of your efforts?”

  “Minimize the risk, Dave.” God, for a moment it was as if she was back at HQ, arguing with him over a mission. “You saw that the Gates open close to where he is. Give us a safe place with plenty of empty space around for this... experiment. Post the army, get the missiles ready, whatever’s needed. Think about it. It’s your only chance to get a John Grey who’s on your side.”

  Dave’s eyes narrowed.

  A hush fell on the room. The air vibrated with tension. And Dave was humming, which meant he was mulling over her words.

  Please, dear god. Please.

  No
body shifted for what felt like years, the only movement the slight wavering of the guns. Dave’s gaze seemed turned inward, and Ella hoped those cogs and spiral wheels were turning in the right direction.

  Come on, Dave. One chance.

  “What do you need?” he eventually asked.

  Air rushed into her lungs, and she couldn’t take it all in. The world sparkled, black blossoming in the spaces between, and her knees buckled.

  Distantly she thought she heard Finn call her name, but couldn’t answer. Oh no, she had the time to think, who will stop him from falling asleep now?

  And then it all went black.

  ***

  Voices argued over her head in urgent tones, and somewhere in the warm, soft darkness, Ella knew there was something she should be doing.

  She clawed her way back to the light and it stabbed into her eyeballs. Squinting, she assessed the situation.

  She lay on a narrow bed, feet raised, a cold pack on her brow. Mike and Dave were discussing right by her side, but when she shifted, thinking to sit up, the room swayed. Gritting her teeth, she shut her eyes, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

  “No,” Mike was saying, “you don’t need to stick them in the middle of a desert. You’re exaggerating.”

  “Exaggerating?” Dave choked. “Have you seen what comes through the Gates? And that’s just the scouting animals. I need a place I can control one hundred per cent.”

  “How about a military base? Or a ghost town? I think there’s one nearby. Shavertown, something like that.”

  “What’s wrong with a desert?”

  “You want Finn to feel safe. Sleeping quarters and a kitchen to cook will go a long way toward giving him a feeling of normalcy.”

  Ella reached out and grabbed the first thing she could. Mike’s belt. She tugged until Mike turned, brows lifting in surprise.

  “You’re awake,” he said.

  Why did people always feel the need to state the obvious? Ella dragged him closer. “Finn,” she said, wishing the room would stop spinning. “Where?”

  Great, she’d been reduced to Finn’s mode of talking.

  Mike waved a hand over Ella’s head. “They’re moving him to an ambulance. As soon as you can, we’ll go down.”

  “I need to go to him, Mike, right now.”

  “Listen, girl.” He leaned over her, his eyes concerned. “The cut in your arm’s infected, you’re running a fever. The doctor cleaned it and gave you a shot of antibiotics and analgesics, but you need to take care of yourself. He stitched the cut in your palm, too.”

  Damn, she hadn’t realized she was down to her tank top and that her arm and hand were wrapped in fresh gauze. Woozy, that was how she felt. It made her want to giggle. Definitely woozy.

  “I’m doing okay,” she said and fell back on the hard pillow. “We can go.”

  “Are you sure? The doctor wanted to check on you again when you woke up.”

  “Dammit, Mike, Finn isn’t stable. Do you want him getting shot again?” A sob caught in her throat. Damn infection and damn fever. She rode the emotional rollercoaster and clenched her jaw. “Help me up.”

  “Yes, boss.” Mike rolled his eyes but drew her to a sitting position and wrapped an arm around her as she stood, still wobbly. “Rough night, huh?”

  Running on rooftops, searching for Finn as Gates randomly opened all around, having Norma almost die in the car, then Sarah draw a gun on her twice, and barely saving Finn... On top of finding out Finn was John Grey and going through one melt-down already when she’d thought he’d died...

  Ella forced down another giggle. God, yeah, you could say it’d been a rough night — and day. More like a rough month. “Any word about Norma?”

  “She’s the same.”

  Wordlessly, she let Mike lead her to the door, under Dave’s glare. Well, it wasn’t a match for Finn’s.

  They stepped into the elevator. She was steadier now, and her legs didn’t feel like they’d buckle at any moment.

  “Mike...” Ella squeezed his arm as they rode down. “You’ll stay here, yeah? Keep tabs on Norma, and say hi to Scott from me. Go to him. He needs you.”

  “You need me more,” Mike grunted as the elevator doors dinged and opened into the lobby of the clinic.

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “Hey, are you Ella?” A nervous-looking nurse stepped in their way. He was running a hand through his blond fringe over and over.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh good. That guy, he’s been asking for you. Could you calm him down? The men are getting jumpy.”

  The men? Ella let go of Mike and hurried outside to find Finn struggling with two attendants, trying to get off the stretcher. The fact that he hadn’t knocked them flat on their back yet just went to show how weak he was.

  And afraid. The air crackled around him, stretching and glittering like the surface of a soap bubble, filled with writhing forms.

  “Finn!” she shouted.

  Around the stretcher stood six police, their guns trained on him, their fingers on the trigger.

  “I’m here,” she called, hurrying over to the stretcher, trying to ignore the way the ground pitched and moved in her blurry eyes. “All of you, step back. Finn, stop!”

  The tableau froze, Finn with a fist drawn for a punch, an attendant in the act of hauling Finn back.

  The Gate shrank and faded. Finn dropped his fist, shoulders slumping. She could read relief in every line of his body, but his eyes were glazed over and she wasn’t sure what he was seeing.

  They’d taken him away while she was unconscious. They really didn’t understand Finn needed to feel safe.

  “Stand down.” She reached Finn and placed a hand on his chest. “Everything’s okay.”

  The guns didn’t lower, though. She pushed Finn and he lay back, covering her hand with his over his heart. The gesture always seemed to calm him.

  “I’m here. Everything’s okay.” She repeated the litany as Dave strode out of the clinic, ordering his people to step down, as the attendants cautiously approached and loaded the stretcher into the ambulance, as Mike waved and shouted that she should call him and let him know they were okay as soon as she could.

  A medic built like a freaking china cabinet took seat at Finn’s feet, reattaching a drip in the needle in Finn’s hand, and two police climbed inside with them — a man and a woman, guns pointing down. They sat on either side of the stretcher.

  Finn tensed and his hand tightened over hers, threatening to crush it. He muttered something she didn’t catch.

  “I’m here,” she repeated. “It’s okay.”

  The ambulance doors slammed closed, and it was quiet.

  ***

  Indefinite time passed, marked with potholes that jerked her on the hard bench of the ambulance and made Finn hiss with pain. He was crushing her finger bones in his grip and she didn’t care, as long as he knew she was there.

  Besides, the pain kept her awake, alert for any signs of a Gate opening.

  Flashes of images went before her eyes — white landscapes, steep peaks of mountains and swirls of snow — and she shook Finn. His eyes opened, silvery light in their cores, but his mind was obviously elsewhere.

  Somewhere far away.

  “Stay with me, Finn.” His hand was cold — or was she burning with fever? — and she clasped it, warming it, stroking a finger over the scars on his knuckles. “You’re safe now.”

  The images faded and the strange light in his eyes went out. He blinked and shuddered.

  Change his dreams. Affect his memories. Move and talk and touch him in the midst of his nightmares. How? Why hadn’t it worked so far? What was she doing wrong?

  “You’re shaking,” Finn murmured. “Ella?”

  “I’m all right.” She squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry.”

  “How’s Norma?” His raspy voice slurred. He sounded as if a wolf had shredded his vocal cords.

  “Stable. Mike stayed to watch over her.” She glanced at the shadowed
faces of the medic and the two police, then down at Finn’s hand. “Finn... Why can’t I act in your dreams?” The moment she said it, she knew it sounded stupid — it was his dreams, his memories, why should she be able to do anything at all?

  “You used to talk to me,” Finn said quietly.

  Shock immobilized her. “I did? Then what happened?”

  “You stopped talking.” He sounded sad.

  What was in the notes Dave gave her? Something about her abilities growing, but also that she’d started fighting them. Had she withdrawn from Finn’s dreams? Could she find her lost abilities again?

  Did it all even make any sense, or was she hallucinating with fever?

  “I’ll figure this out,” she mumbled, more to reassure herself than anything else. “I’ve done it before; I can do it again.”

  Finn was staring at her as if she’d sprouted horns. Well, she was talking to herself. Probably didn’t look quite sane. Too damn funny. “You must’ve been shocked when you met me,” she said, a snort escaping her. “I’m such a chatterbox, and in your dreams you thought I was the shy, silent type.”

  “Ella,” Finn said, then again, louder, “Ella!”

  What? Oh right, she was chuckling like a loon. “Sorry. It’s just...” Fever, exhaustion, madness, and hanging onto a hope thin as a baby’s wail. Hey, laughing was better than crying, surely.

  She drew a breath. She was scaring Finn, dammit. Way to go. “It’s the lack of sleep.” Not the fact that she planned to save the world by talking her way into Finn’s dreams, hoping to change his memories and his magic.

  Because that sounded plausible and all.

  Yeah.

  ***

  Ella shook Finn awake for what felt like the millionth time when the ambulance finally lurched to a stop. The two police exchanged wary looks and rose from the benches, while the medic fussed with Finn’s drip.

  “Where are we?” Ella asked as the doors opened and golden daylight flooded the cramped space.

  Nobody answered her. Typical.