By the time she reached him, she burned with it. She fought the thickening in the air as she approached him, struggled against it, punched it with her fists.
Finally she reached him, caught his hands in hers and pulled him close.
Chapter Ten
Real
“Hard to say if it’s working or not.” Dave sank into one of the metal chairs and ran his fingers through his grey hair.
“Meaning what exactly?” Ella was too happy to let Dave’s vague comments dampen her spirits.
Finn sat on the bed, his gaze fixed on the far wall; a stillness that spoke of tension.
“Meaning, animals keep passing. Only one made it through alive, which is good. But,” Dave lifted a forefinger, “he hasn’t stopped opening Gates.”
“Yet,” Ella said. With Finn sleeping next to her every night, hordes of animals could have crossed unscathed. They hadn’t, and that was huge. Not that she was going to explain that part to Dave. “It’s only been four days.”
“You mean, it’s already been four days.” Dave’s brows knitted in a dark frown. “I need to see results.”
“It’s not magic,” Ella snapped.
“Sure it is,” Dave quipped.
Finn glowered at the cafeteria wall.
“You know what I mean.” She’d spoken to Finn in his dream, touched him, and this morning she’d seen some sparkle return to his eyes. They’d made progress, dammit.
“This friend of yours, the oracle, Mike.” Dave turned his speculating gaze on Finn who ignored him in favor of shifting his glare to the closed door. “He explained to me what you’re trying to do. More happy memories, fewer nightmares, right?”
“That’s the general idea.” Ella shrugged.
“You can really enter his dreams,” Dave whispered, frowning. “Where he forms the Gates.”
Ella swallowed, flicked a glance at Finn. “I guess so.” She still didn’t understand how it worked.
“How are you doing it, son? Do you know?” Dave waited with the patience of an alligator until Finn shook his head.
“He’s asleep when it happens,” Ella said. “The dreams trigger the Gates.”
“Only the nightmares?”
Tough one. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen any happy memories so far.”
“What if you try and dream of something happy?” Dave had turned his attention back to Finn who sat ramrod straight, a muscle leaping in his jaw. “Then we could narrow the issue down.”
“I can’t.” Finn made a visible effort to relax his hands. “Can’t control what I dream.”
“Think of good things before you go to bed,” Dave said.
“Yeah, you’re sitting here after shooting him and you think it’s that easy,” Ella snapped.
Dave sighed. “Yeah, that’s what Mike said.”
Mike?
Dave pulled out his phone and pressed a button. Ella and Finn exchanged puzzled looks. Long moments passed.
Then the door opened and two policemen entered, followed by Mike. Clean-shaven, his hair spiked with gel. His clothes clean.
What. The. Hell.
He’d been there, waiting? Ella got up, her jaw hanging slack, and before she knew it, Mike bounded over, arms open, and hugged her tight. He lifted her off her feet and turned her around, laughing.
“Good to see you, girl, good to see you.” He put her back down, a smile to his ears. He wore one of his favorite blue shirts and jeans. A picture of normalcy. “Your boss said I could see you but only for little while.”
“Good to see you, too,” she said, shaking her head.
“And Finn.” Mike ambled over to the bed and stuck out his hand.
Finn eyed it suspiciously, as if it might grow teeth and bite him. After what seemed like forever, he reached out cautiously and took it.
Mike shook Finn’s hand enthusiastically and sat down. “Man, you look well! Can’t tell you how glad I am. Last I saw you, you looked like hell warmed over. That was some serious shit, dude. You need to get better and cook for us again. Scott has been asking about you. We could go for drinks at that bar we went last time. We had a good time. What do you say?”
Finn stared at him, eyes like saucers. When silence stretched, he nodded quickly, and Mike chuckled.
“Agreed, then! Fix this mess and remember we have a date for drinks, okay?” He winked at Finn who kept staring. Mike’s lips twitched and he bounded to his feet.
Finn’s hand shot out and grabbed him, pulling him down. Mike yelped as he sank back onto the hard mattress.
“Norma?” Finn whispered, his voice tight.
“She’s okay.” Mike relaxed. “Still at the clinic, all vitals monitored until she’s given the okay to leave. Don’t worry, man.” Mike patted Finn’s shoulder.
Finn released him, nodding, and Mike went to grab a bag from one of the policemen. He offered it to Finn who just stared.
“A gift,” Mike said brightly.
“Gift.” Finn spoke the word as if it was in Martian.
“I thought it might help fix the issue faster.” Mike cleared his throat. “Well, then. Keep up the good work. And don’t forget the cuddling.” He wagged his brows at Ella and left, the officers following him.
Ella stared after him, confused. Cuddling. Did he mean...?
“I’ll be going, too,” Dave said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I really hope Mike was right, and that this can help.” His tone made it clear he had serious doubts.
Cuddling, Ella thought as Dave left the cafeteria and closed the door behind him, leaving her with Finn.
Familiar heat was rising to her face, and her body tingled. What the hell had Mike put in that bag?
***
A condom, at it turned out. Ah yeah. For the ‘cuddling’ business. Ella pretended her face wasn’t on fire and got busy unpacking the rest of the stuff from the bag.
Finn gave the condom a long look. Ella turned away and tried not to think about his strained expression. What was he thinking?
But Mike had also packed wine. Good red wine that put color into Finn’s cheeks. And a good take-out of steak and salad. Finn attacked the meat as soon as she put it in front of him. Trust Mike to put some thought in what Finn might be used to eating in his own world. Damn, she should have thought of it herself.
She watched him inhale his food, picked at hers and pushed away the plate with a sigh. Both amused and grateful for Mike’s thoughtfulness, she gave Finn a once-over.
Mike was right. Finn looked better. Those few days of quiet and rest had done him a world of good, despite the nightmares and Dave’s stressful visits. His eyes shone and his lips looked — kissable, very kissable and soft and...
Damn.
“Ella,” Finn said.
Hm? “Yes?”
His brilliant eyes, very blue in the lamplight, were fixed on her, making her feel warm all over. But then he moved to rise and winced, hand going to the bandage on his chest. “Would you like more wine?”
Get your mind out of the gutter, Ella. Too early for grabbing Finn and ravaging him. “No, better not.” She gulped the rest from her glass and set it down carefully. “I, um, I’ll wash the dishes.”
She gathered the silverware and the plates and carried them behind the counter to the sink. Finn gathered the glasses and rose, too. Damn he was so handsome, his pale hair glowing in the faint light.
Ella turned on the tap, still looking at him. He turned, their gazes meeting, and her knees turned to water.
“I’ll wash,” he said. “You shouldn’t get your hand wet.”
She looked down at her bandaged hand and her only thought was how much she wanted to kiss him.
Damn, damn, damn.
He brought the glasses over, lingering behind her, his hand brushing her forearm as he put them on the counter. His scent — so good, spice and caramel, and the heat of his body seared a line down her side.
Damn Mike and his wine.
Finn reached for a towel, his hip pressing against h
er.
“Please...” she breathed, her voice strangled, and backpedaled when he stepped in front of the sink. “Tell me about Neith.”
He’d turned on the water. Now he turned it off, his back rigid. The glow of his skin, his hair, went out.
Yeah, way to waste the relaxing effects of the wine.
Was she doing this all wrong? Trying to understand and feed her anger, and stressing Finn? Damn, she wished she knew. Maybe a psychologist could help him. But when she tried to imagine Finn seated at the psychologist’s office, spilling his guts, she failed.
“What do you want to know?” he asked quietly.
Too late to back out now. “Those people at the village you visited. Why didn’t you ask someone else for food? What did you mean when you said it hadn’t been Neith’s fault?”
His hands dropped to his sides. “That’s Neith’s village. That was his sister. Neith... They say he did terrible things. Killed a villager and ran away. Nobody wants to hear his name.”
Something in the phrasing was odd. “They say. What did Neith say?”
“That he loved a girl, and her father didn’t want him. One night they met in secret, her father found them and tried to kill him. Neith killed him instead.”
Ella stood, not knowing what to do next. She was pissed at the villagers, sure — pissed as hell, seething.
Was that enough? Was it worth reminding Finn of terrible times and making him sad?
She stepped closer and put her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his broad back. He twitched and gripped the counter.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured against the fabric of his t-shirt. “Neith sounds like he was a good man. Elf. Person.” She inhaled Finn’s scent, listened to the quick hammering of his heart, and closed her eyes.
There was silence for a while, and Finn relaxed in her hold. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Ella waited. “About?”
“The dreams,” Finn said, his voice rumbling against her ear. “That you tried to change my memories. That you were angry for me.”
Oh fuck. “I don’t know what else to—”
“I wanted to thank you,” Finn said. “For trying to help me.”
But it wasn’t enough, was it? Ella pulled back. Was there any progress? She’d done her best to sound confident for Dave, but as long as Gates were opening, nothing was fixed — and time was almost up. What that meant was clear.
She’d failed Finn as surely as she’d failed Simon.
***
Snow swirled. The cold bit into her skin as she trudged up a path to yet another fishermen’s town by the frozen lake. Finn struggled by her side, clutching a small bundle, bright lines writhing on his face and exposed hands. He was way too thin, she thought, his cheekbones too sharp, the joints of his fingers swollen.
He looked to be around seventeen or eighteen. He was tall, but with that sort of awkward body that meant he was still growing. She was young, too, dressed in a jacket, jeans and sneakers. The age difference held even in his dreams, a constant in a terrifying world.
The wind whipped through the slender trees lining the path and sent Finn staggering sideways. She started after him but he caught his balance and swore softly under his breath. His trousers were worn, with holes at the knees, and his boots torn at the seams. The parka he’d thrown on was doing a good imitation of a sieve and she shivered with cold just by looking at him.
The town walls came into sight, wooden palisades with support beams arching out, driving into the snow-covered ground. The town gate was open, elves going in and out, laden with baskets or pulling two-wheel carts. Finn hunched over and skulked behind a cart, hurrying through the gate and into the town.
She followed like a ghost, floating lightly off the ground, invisible.
The houses were made of wood and stone, dark, with small windows. A fair was set up in the small square, with stalls and colorful ribbons fluttering in the wind.
Finn’s steps quickened. An aroma of grilled meat and freshly baked bread filled the air, and his belly growled.
Then a hand pushed him from behind. He fell, sprawling, his bundle tumbling and opening. A couple of small items rolled out — a black carving of a dragon, a wooden bowl, the curved tooth of a wolf. Finn reached out, but a boot rose and fell on his things, crushing them.
Ella jerked and fell to her knees. She lunged for Finn’s arm, to pull him back, but she wasn’t quick enough. The guard kicked him in the side and Finn curled into himself with a gasp.
“Get out of here,” the guard hissed. “You’re not allowed in the town. You know it.” He prepared to deliver another kick.
Goddammit. She unwound like a spring and shoved into the guard. “Get off him!”
He frowned, barely seemed to feel the impact. Taller and twice as wide as Finn, he hauled him up by the hair and dragged him out of the square.
She couldn’t protect him. Dammit all, she could kick and yell, but the memory ran in deep grooves in Finn’s mind. She watched, helpless, as another guard arrived and the two of them together hauled a kicking and twisting Finn by the armpits. She ran after them to the town gate where they proceeded to throw him on the muddy snow outside. No matter how she cursed and pummeled them with her fists, they didn’t seem to feel a thing. They spat at Finn’s feet and left.
Finn groaned and pushed to his knees, tangled hair hiding his face. Slowly he put his feet under him and stood. He cast a look at the town, lips twisting. Then, shoulders set against the icy wind, he dragged his feet toward the road, looking more lonely and defeated than ever.
But he wasn’t alone, was he? Maybe stopping the memory wasn’t working, but he’d survived all this. It was in the past. She only needed to remind him of that.
Sounded easy.
She jogged after him and slipped an arm around his waist. He lifted wide eyes at her and stumbled to a stop.
“Ella,” he whispered, his voice clogged.
“You’ll be fine,” she said, putting all her faith in him in her voice. “Everything will be okay. You’ll see.”
His eyes shimmered.
“You’re the bravest and kindest person I know,” she whispered. “And I love you.”
He gave her one of his bright smiles, and it lit up his gaze. “Fridha,” he whispered.
She was about to ask what it meant, when Finn gasped and clutched her arm, his fingers digging painfully in her flesh.
“What is it?” she blurted, frightened.
Finn shook. The whole world was trembling, the trees shedding curtains of snow, the mountain rumbling under their feet as if about to erupt. The sky above darkened and clouds swirled, a maelstrom sucking up the earth, tearing the trees and the town houses, swallowing them.
What the hell?
Finn was burning bright, his face twisted in pain. He lurched back, lost his balance and fell.
“Finn!” She dropped to her knees and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close. “I’m here.”
***
Ella came awake to strong arms around her ribs, holding her against warm skin with the scent of spice and sugar. Soft hair tickled her face and she buried her nose in the junction of neck and shoulder, humming contently.
Finn moaned and his hold tightened to the point of pain. Tendons bulged under her lips as he threw his head back, his breathing coming through gritted teeth.
Something was very wrong.
She gasped, feeling her ribs creak, and drew back. “Finn?” Sweat tracked shiny lines down his face. His teeth were bared in a grimace. “Finn!”
He released her and rolled on his back. His body convulsed, fingers scrambling in the tangled sheets.
Had he pulled the stitches? Had his broken bones shifted? “I’m getting the doctor.”
Finn grabbed her arm, fingers tight like vises. “No.” His eyes scrunched shut, his face contorting in pain.
“Dammit, Finn.” Her heart pounded. “How can I help you?”
Finn panted, lips curled back. Bri
ght lines writhed on his skin. Then he opened his eyes and Ella choked on a breath.
Silver flames danced in their centers.
The air crackled around them, breaking into liquid fragments. She could only stare as light broke through the seams of reality, images twisting, contained in changing windows from another world.
She jerked back. “Finn, stop!”
The light intensified around him, the cracks radiating from his head and shoulders like a pattern of leaf veins, spreading wider.
Goddammit, she thought it was getting better. She was wrong. Magic pulsed in the air, and he convulsed again, body arching off the bed. He had to be hurting himself. She gripped his arms, did her best to wrestle him back down.
Finn wrenched himself free, gasped and reached up to clutch his shoulder. He rolled on his side, groaning. White flames shot between his fingers.
The hell? Caught between worry and fascination, she almost missed the blackness rising in the room, engulfing it. The sound of clicking finally registered and she sat up.
Jesus Christ, the Veil was tearing. Muttering to herself, she bent to retrieve her knives from under the bed — and just in time, too.
Shades.
She whipped her blades out as a kobold on crooked legs jumped out of the Grey and onto her. Jumping off the bed, she advanced on the creature and stabbed a knife into its concave chest. It fizzled before it had crumpled to the ground.
A rock troll came pounding on heavy feet. She weighed a blade in her hand, perfectly balanced, and threw it. It caught the troll in its puffed-out chest, tripping it up. It crashed like a tree trunk, a mere couple of feet short of crushing her, and rippled out of reality.
Shit. She had to end this before Dave and the cavalry came charging and saw Finn like that. She glanced at him, curled and shaking, caught in the eye of a burning storm, and almost missed the goblin rushing her from behind.
She spun and her blade sliced through the Shade’s arm. Not waiting for the goblin to fall, she kicked another that was sneaking up on her and sent it flying back. Following through, she threw the blade after it. The goblin screeched as it returned to the Grey.
Boreal and John Grey Season 1 Page 42