Boreal and John Grey Season 2

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  “So what, you’ll just shoot him again?” Ella really didn’t want to punch her boss; their relations were strained as it was, but she was seriously tempted.

  “Maybe I’ll shoot you instead, just to have some quiet,” Dave bit out.

  “Shut your mouth, duerg.” Finn got up, his nostrils flaring. “If you threaten Ella again I’ll—”

  His face turned white, then grey, and his jaw went slack. “Faen,” he whispered and his breath left his lungs in a hiss.

  Ella followed the direction of his gaze, and froze.

  The air rippled, opalescent, threaded with gold. The gold thickened into ropes of blinding brilliance, criss-crossing like a fabric.

  Finn swayed on his feet. Lines flashed on his face and hands, glowing brighter and brighter.

  Ella sucked a sharp breath. “This is...”

  “The Veil,” Dave whispered, drawing a dagger from his belt. “It’s opening.” He spun around as the air shimmered. His voice dipped into an angry growl. “You, aelfr...”

  “Hey,” Ella stepped in front of Dave, “back off. Let him work.”

  Besides, he’d been in the way and she wanted to watch this. She’d never seen Finn mend a rip in the Veil before. It seemed different from uncovering the peephole into the Shades’ world he’d shown her before.

  Finn was mumbling something under his breath, his head bowed. He held his hands out, palms up, and light danced on them, sputtering flames, thin and tall like candles.

  So cool.

  He raised his face and Ella took an instinctive step back. The cores of his eyes were silver coins. They burned with white fire, turning his pale lashes translucent.

  The golden threads around him shivered, as if someone had touched them, and a whine filled Ella’s ears. The flames in Finn’s hands jumped and wavered. The threads pulsed. Sweat rolled down his face in iridescent trails. He breathed hard, the tendons in his neck standing out.

  Then he leaned forward, the muscles in his arms leaping into sharp relief under his thin t-shirt, as he curled his hands into fists, extinguishing the flames.

  The golden threads wavered, and went out. Finn fell to his knees, bright lines still flickering over his hands and in his hair.

  Gradually the office dimmed.

  “Finn.” Paralysis finally broken, Ella knelt by his side and put a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. She smoothed back a silky lock of hair. “You okay?”

  He nodded against her hand.

  “If he’s okay?” Dave barked. “If he can’t even control the Veil, then how can he control the Gates?”

  “Come on, Dave, he did mend the Veil,” Ella ground out, her chest hot with anger.

  “Barely. I thought he controlled the threads.”

  “Those golden threads,” Ella whispered. “I’ve seen them before — on the rooftop, where we went looking for the dragon. I thought the Veil was like a grey river of souls?”

  “The Veil,” Dave said, stepping behind his desk and sitting down, “is a giant textile. Threads crossing, stretching. Always fluid, which is why it’s seen as a river. It’s what separates the nine worlds from one another. Usually, it thins and breaks in places only on one side. Into one world. A Gate crosses through, the openings facing each other. John Grey,” he pointed at Finn who still hadn’t raised his head, “opens and closes Gates. He can also pull the threads and tighten the Veil where it’s thin. This part shouldn’t be so damn hard.”

  “Then you try it,” Finn wheezed.

  “You...” Dave’s face darkened.

  “Get. Off. His. Case.” Ella’s hands curled into fists. “I swear to god, I’ll—”

  “I’ve got it... under... control,” Finn said.

  “So you say,” Dave said, “but what I just saw...”

  “I was distracted.” Finn looked up, his jaw tight. “It won’t happen again.”

  ***

  “So what was that all about?” Ella muttered as the taxi dropped them back to the location where she’d left the car.

  Finn lifted a brow.

  “Don’t give me the blank face.” Ella got into the car and revved the engine. “Dammit all, Finn.”

  “I told Dave everything.”

  “The hell you did.” She shook with belated shock and anger. Because he’d scared her to death yet again and she couldn’t figure out what to do. “You know what I’m talking about. Why did you let the damn dragon go? And what did you flash back to?”

  He winced. “I let the dragon go because she wouldn’t lead me to the nest if I didn’t.”

  “Meaning?” She pulled off the curb and a piece of paper fluttered. A parking fine? You’re kidding me, right? She swallowed a groan.

  “The dragon needs to trust me before she leads me to her nest. She’s not stupid.” Finn scowled at the street ahead. “The men scared her. If I held her there, she’d never trust me again.”

  “So... next time she’ll invite you over?” It made sense, but... “You took a risk. She may still not trust you next time.”

  Finn leaned his head back and sighed. “She will.”

  “I think you enjoyed the ride on her back way too much,” she said.

  She’d meant it as a joke but his head snapped back up. He eyed her, his gaze wary.

  Oh.

  Oh. Boreals. Elven dragonlords.

  “You would’ve had a dragon of your own by now, wouldn’t you?” If he hadn’t been exiled, literally thrown off a cliff for not having magic.

  Color rose to Finn’s cheekbones. He glared at the dashboard. It was a miracle it didn’t catch on fire.

  Did that mean...? Think, Ella. Use that poor excuse for a brain of yours. “You’re not doing it because you want to keep her?”

  “No.” The color went out of Finn’s cheeks. “I’ll do it. I’ll kill her.”

  It came out vehement, a little too loud.

  “Okay...” Ella cast him a long look, wondering what the hell was going on, then decided she had to start paying attention at the road and swerved back into her lane. “One thing I don’t get is how Dave’s men saw you riding the dragon across the city.” This had been bothering her, despite Dave’s explanation. “After she jumped off that roof, I swear you both vanished as if a switch was flipped. Poof, you were gone, and—”

  “It was dark,” Finn said.

  Ella frowned. “How does that work anyway?” She navigated the traffic through the city center. The bars spewed people out into the street and she had to be careful not to run over any of them. “How does a Boreal find a dragon and tame her and ride her? Is the fact that you stuck a knife in her crest that night enough to make her see you—?”

  “Can we get some painkillers?” Finn asked. His face was alarmingly pale.

  She jerked on the wheel. “Jesus, Finn, are you all right? What’s wrong?”

  He said nothing.

  “I have painkillers at home if you can wait five minutes.”

  He nodded, closing his eyes. Terminating the conversation.

  Well, she had to accept it. Somewhere along the line something had happened — though for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what — to make Finn stop talking to her.

  And she had no clue how to fix it.

  ***

  “He won’t tell me what’s wrong.” Ella paced a furrow in Mike’s carpet. “Nightmares, flashbacks, letting the damn dragon go free, and he won’t talk to me.”

  “Wait.” Mike frowned and froze in the act of combing his fingers through his short hair. “There’s a dragon loose on the city?” He lifted his hands when Ella scowled. “Sorry, sorry. Go on.”

  “I’m trying to figure it out.” She stopped at the window, drew the curtain shut, stepped back. “Maybe... seeing guns sends him into a flashback? It first happened when Jeff gave him a gun. Then when Dave shot him. Now again when the agents waved their guns about. He was in the military back in Aelfheim. Something must have happened. But he won’t tell me. And he gets nightmares. Won’t tell me about them, either.” />
  It shouldn’t hurt so much, but it did.

  “But he has your help in his dreams. You’re helping him get stronger, and your magic is joined.”

  “Could this be why... why he’s having trouble...?” Ella reeled. She’d been so happy Finn was better, that the elves hadn’t invaded, that she hadn’t considered what it meant not sharing Finn’s dreams — given he still had them, of course. “Mike...”

  “What is it, girl? You’re still sharing dreams, aren’t you?”

  She bit her lip. “That’s the thing. We don’t.”

  “Okay. Calm down.” Mike sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. “What exactly is going on?”

  She wished she knew. She dropped onto the couch and rubbed her face. “I haven’t got a clue.”

  She’d caught glimpses of Finn’s past from his childhood to his late adolescence. She thought she’d seen him when he’d reached his lowest low, almost an adult, being chased out of villages, bullied by patrol guards. He’d once told her he’d entered the army after that. As a mercenary, probably. Because his protector had died, the winter had been hard and food had been scarce.

  But she’d seen no memories of that.

  Was Finn keeping those memories from her somehow? He had the right to his own secrets, she told herself. He’d had to bare himself to the bone in the dreams they shared. It had to be a terrifying experience, laying your self open like that, raw, nothing to hide behind. Ella had been inside his mind, had seen it all.

  Though at first it hadn’t been that easy. There had been walls around the memories, walls she thought she’d erected, walls she’d fought to break down to be able to speak to him and touch him in his dreams.

  Was it possible she hadn’t been the one blocking him? Could it be Finn’s doing? Maybe he was trying to protect himself from the intrusion.

  “When did you stop seeing his dreams?” Mike asked, his dark eyes concerned.

  “After we returned from the military camp.” She’d shared one dream, where Finn had climbed a cliff and brought her a snow flower. After that... “I get flashes of something terrible, a glowing face, a tongue of fire... Nothing coherent.”

  “So, if you’re not sharing dreams, does that mean you’re not sharing magic, either?”

  Oh god, that was the question, wasn’t it? “Finn says he’s got it under control.” In fact he said it so often nowadays it was as if he was trying to convince himself more than her. “At Dave’s office, the Veil almost ripped. He mended it. You should have seen it, Mike, it was impressive. He’s so strong.”

  But he looked so tired. Dave had commented on it. Mike, too. She wasn’t the only one seeing it.

  “Okay, deep breaths.” Mike rubbed her back in soothing circles. “Maybe it’s normal. Maybe you set him on the right path, fixed his magic so now he can keep the Veil from ripping and the Gates from opening. Why are you so worried? From what you’re saying, it sounds like he’s doing fine.”

  Fine. Ella licked her dry lips. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “If it’s the flashbacks that have you worried, we’ll look into it. Start by trying to avoid the trigger. If it’s guns, then keep him away from them and see how that goes.”

  Yeah, right. “It’s not that easy. There seems to be a sniper out for us.”

  Mike sputtered. “Shit, girl, when were you going to tell me all this?”

  “Now. Just did.” She pulled her neckline down. “I’m wearing my Kevlar vest, and so is Finn, so we should be okay.”

  “Damn,” Mike whispered. “Okay, so, flashbacks, nightmares, a sniper and a dragon. Just that?”

  Ella shook her head and snorted. “Shut up. Only you can make me laugh about this. It’s not funny, Mike.”

  Because she had that bad feeling again, the one that told her things were infinitely worse than they looked, and they looked bad enough already.

  “I have my talents.” Mike shrugged. “All right, I can see why you’re worried. Then again, this is Finn we’re talking about. A force of nature. And he cares for you. I bet he’ll tell you what this is all about when he’s ready.”

  Yeah. If by then it wasn’t too late.

  Chapter Five

  Rip

  Winter was setting in for good. Not the freak snowstorms caused by the opening Gates, but the slow, measured pace of a season approaching. The leaves, caught in the unnatural weather, hadn’t even turned color, just faded and fallen away leaving the branches bare.

  Ella told herself it wasn’t a bad omen or anything. Just nature. That was when she realized she was looking for a sign that the good times would last.

  She drew the curtains, hiding the damn trees and the gathering dusk. Mike’s apartment was softly lit with candles and the long table was set for four. “So where’s birthday boy?”

  Mike, who was setting a steaming tray on the table, nodded vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. “Scott’s getting his hands dirty. He doesn’t cook often, but when he does, it’s good stuff.”

  “And in three days it’s your anniversary, huh?” Ella smiled at Mike who looked cute, his dark hair in spikes, his t-shirt smudged with grease.

  “Yeah, Six months, baby, can you believe it? New world record. We’re going out, yes? You’d better have it marked in your calendar in bold, red letters.”

  “Yup. Scott threatened to kill me if I don’t show up.”

  “And Finn?”

  “Scott’s a smart guy. He knows he can’t threaten Finn if he wants to live.” Ella stole an olive from the table and danced away from Mike’s swatting hand.

  Mike had made it his life’s mission to show Finn the fun in life. After a couple disastrous experiments, he now went for small, quiet restaurants rather than busy, noise bars and clubs.

  “So where’s elf boy?” Mike wiped his brow with the back of his hand and eyed the table critically, a brow raised. “Dinner’s ready and he promised to contribute.”

  “He’s been puttering around in the kitchen. Didn’t let me help.”

  “Good for him. He promised his patented cassava chips.”

  “Yes!” Ella punched the air. Finn had made them a couple of times, after repeated requests. “I love that stuff. I should probably go help him bring the food over.”

  Finn chose that moment to open the dining room door, a plate of chips in one hand. He was dressed in black from head to toe and his hair glinted silver. He wore no bandana and his ears showed through, the points grey. He looked damn good.

  “Ella, stop drooling and go help Scott bring the rest, yeah?” Mike gave her a nudge, his eyes twinkling.

  A light flush rose to Finn’s cheekbones. It made Ella’s heart beat faster. Damn elf was adorable. And hot.

  Yet he was shutting her out and that hurt.

  “Hey, you’re all here.” Scott came out of the kitchen, holding a huge salad bowl. He grinned. “Ah, the chips are here. Finn, why don’t you put them on the table and take a seat? I’ll bring the wine.”

  Finn nodded but didn’t move. Ella was about to go make space for the salad on the table but caught a tick in Finn’s jaw, lines of pain around his mouth.

  Fuck it. She couldn’t stay pissed with him when he looked like that.

  She went to him, wrapped an arm around his slim hips and took the dish from his hands. “You okay?”

  He relaxed against her as she led him to the table. He limped badly, Ella noticed with dismay. Worse than usual.

  Swallowing her worry, she shoved him into a chair and took her seat beside him. She glanced at his haggard face. Come on, Finn, open up. Trust me.

  “All set,” Scott announced, returning from the kitchen with a bottle of chilled white wine. “Not to brag but I cooked an awesome dinner.”

  “With my aid.” Mike sniffed disdainfully. “Don’t worry, boy. You’ll learn under my tutelage.”

  Scott laughed and tackled Mike from behind in a full-body hug. “Yes, oh master.”

  “Now you’re giving me ideas,” Mike muttered, a wicked gle
am in his eyes.

  Finn leaned back in his chair, a brow lifting.

  Scott presented the evening’s menu — marinated grilled steaks, steamed vegetables with ginger sauce, creamed spinach with bacon, a rocket-balsamic salad and Finn’s cassava chips. It smelled heavenly.

  “Dig in,” Scott said with a flourish and took his seat. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Looks great.” Ella turned to Finn.

  He flashed her a brilliant smile and her heart stuttered.

  She forced herself to look away.

  “Wine.” Mike popped the cork and poured amber liquid in the fluted glasses. “A toast to our wannabe chef and best boyfriend ever.”

  The clinked glasses and Ella took over the serving. At least this was something she could do passably well.

  The food was great, even Mike had to agree Scott had done a stellar job, and Finn’s chips got the usual exclamations of delight.

  “You should open a restaurant and sell just the chips,” Scott declared.

  “Without the Shades, that might be an idea.” Mike waved a hand. “I can see it. Finn’s. Exotic dishes from another world.”

  Ella laughed.

  “Any news on the sniper? And the dragon?” Mike served himself more chips.

  “Nothing so far. Hey, where’s Missy?” Ella realized she hadn’t seen the kitten around.

  “In our room,” Scott said.

  “She was acting up today.” Mike shrugged. “Scratched me pretty bad when I tried to catch her. Bled me dry.” He showed the evidence on his forearm.

  “Oooh, poor baby.” Scott snickered.

  “You should have those scratches checked out,” Ella said, keeping a straight face. “They might be lethal.”

  Mike sighed dramatically. “No respect for your elders.”

  “By a year.” Scott scoffed.

  “You’re not older than me,” Ella shot back. “You’re my little brother.”

  “By a month.”

  “Yeah, well, a month’s a month.” Ella stuck her tongue out.

  Mike sipped his wine, pretending to ignore both of them.