Boreal and John Grey Season 1

by Chrystalla Thoma

  But had no idea how to fix this.

  A growl from the left had her spinning. Getting killed before getting up the nerve to kiss Finn once more would suck. He tasted like dark chocolate, she thought as she ran her blade through a wolf’s flank, then whirled to stab another in the side of the neck, jumping back as blood sprayed. His skin had felt like satin against her fingertips, under her palms, against her lips. Viciously she slashed at another wolf as it launched itself at her. Cutting upward, she sliced it open and threw her knife at the one crossing the street, hitting it between the eyes.

  She bent over, panting. Damn. This — the violence, the blood — wasn’t helping her forget how good Finn had felt in her arms.

  And the wolves kept pouring into the street. Were the Gates stabilizing again? Had more than one opened at once? Looking up, she saw fear register on Finn’s face for a fleeting moment, then his jaw clenched and he rose, lifting his dripping knives, ready to take the whole pack. Blades held out at the sides, she raced across the street to stand by his side. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, only lifted his chin and prepared to fight, legs apart, knees bent, knives at the ready.

  What she hadn’t expected was the sound of helicopters and a voice over a loudspeaker, calling, “We will open fire in twenty seconds. Take cover. I repeat.”

  The military.

  Ella grabbed Finn’s arm and dragged him toward the nearest building. He jerked free and she stumbled, falling against a graffiti-covered wall. Her breath knocked out, she slid down wheezing.

  Images flashed in her mind — a fanged mouth, the air catching fire, a sky darkening — then pain hit, a sizzle of fire all over her body, making her teeth grind. Distantly she knew it was a memory — and not hers.

  “Ella!” Finn lifted her back to her feet, a frown darkening his face. “You all right?”

  Dazed, she let him pull her under cover, inside an entrance, and they huddled next to a potted plant. Christ. What had that been?

  Finn held his gun pointing up, cocked and ready. His gaze flicked to her, worried, then slid away. “Sorry.”

  “You mean, for throwing me against that wall like a bag of trash?” Those images... “I was only trying to get you to safety, you know.”

  He winced slightly, stared out into the street.

  Back to a no-touch, no-talk Finn. Dammit. Her fault. Before the kiss, he’d begun to open up, and now... Now she wanted that back.

  Had he opened up to the woman he’d mentioned, a certain Norma Jones? He said they used to talk.

  Are you jealous, Ella?

  The rat-tat-tat of bullets hitting the pavement and the street jarred her thoughts. The noise rose to a deafening crescendo. The walls and ground shook. No, she wasn’t going to cling to Finn, dammit. Instead, she gripped her gun until her knuckles ached, waiting for the massacre to end.

  ***

  “What are we missing?” Dave muttered, pacing the length of his tiny office. “If John Grey is here, opening portals from here...” He sucked a long breath and stopped, fists at his sides, looking down at his desk. “How do we find him?”

  Ella shrugged. Surreptitiously she edged closer to Dave’s desk to check the papers he had lying around. She didn’t think they’d be addressed to Dave as ‘Dear Guardian,’ but she didn’t know where else to look for clues. “All Sarah said was that John Grey’s here. Nothing more.”

  Sarah, her dead partner’s girlfriend, an oracle, who could hear the Shades. Not anymore, though.

  Right on cue, Dave asked, “And are the Shades still silent?”

  Ella nodded. Not that she’d talked to Sarah again, but Mike, her neighbor, best friend and oracle rolled into one, had promised to let her know if he heard anything at all from beyond the Veil.

  Although... he seemed so wrapped up in Scott these days maybe he’d forgotten to mention it, and his happiness made the bittersweet pain in her chest all the sharper.

  She wanted Finn to hold her that way, to look at her that way. Only Finn avoided looking at her these days. He even left her alone with Dave and went to get weapons from Jeff’s armory. Without her even asking him to.

  Damn.

  “What use is the army,” Dave was saying, “when we can’t find a way to stop the Gates from opening? For all we know, John Grey can open a Gate so vast, half of Aelfheim can cross over.”

  “There must be constraints,” she muttered absently, trying to look into Dave’s ever-present mug without turning her head. Was the brown sludge in it tea or something else?

  “Meaning?”

  Ella sighed and wandered to the shelves by the door, which were filled with folders of cases. What she needed was a sample of Dave’s DNA. The only problem was, his office was spotless. No fallen hairs, no blood stains. And he kept watching her, reducing her chances of happening upon something she could use.

  “Surely Johnny-boy can’t be all-powerful,” she said. Or else the elves wouldn’t have been so concerned about keeping him safe. “If he was able to open such a huge Gate, we’d have been an elven province for centuries now.”

  “Unless things have changed,” Dave growled. “Your partner says the elves have technology now. What if John Grey gained in strength, too?”

  A horrifying thought. “There must be a way to stop him.”

  “You sound so convinced. Why is he on the loose, then, opening Gates?”

  Ella glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Nope. No spirals, no metal peeking through his skin. No seam bisecting him from head to toe.

  Useless. Maybe she was mad thinking he was a Guardian. Maybe there was another explanation for his appearance in her mother’s old photo. It was possible it wasn’t him but a relative of his.

  “If he’s a Dark elf,” she said, “the Dark elves must be protecting him.”

  “But what if he’s not? Nine worlds hang on the tree Yggdrasil, so say the legends. If he opens Gates, he could’ve crossed from anywhere.”

  Crap. “None of the books you’ve read say what he is?”

  Dave gave his desk a glare Finn would have approved of. “Beware of John Grey. That’s all we got, all the Grarsaga says. Nothing about his origins.”

  The Grarsaga. Dave had read it. Ella’s blood froze. “What else does the Grarsaga say?”

  “Nothing much.” Dave shrugged, still glaring. He scratched the stubble on his chin. “It records John Grey’s wedding with a local king’s daughter. Lots of singing and quaffing ale, and the elves stating that John Grey didn’t belong to their race.”

  Ella struggled to marshal her thoughts. “Pity.” She cleared her throat and attempted to relax her hands that had curled into fists. “What a mess. So what’s new? Any more white animals reported?”

  “No. Not since the army finished off the last wolves yesterday. And it’s possible they’d crossed earlier, together with those you and Finn killed in Friedrich Avenue the day before.” He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t see a pattern. If John Grey can open the Gates, why doesn’t he keep them open for the elves to cross? Why is it only animals crossing over? What the hell is he doing?”

  The million dollar question.

  “Playing with us?” Ella suggested, although it didn’t feel like it. She had to agree with Dave. They were missing some vital clue but she was damned if she knew what it was.

  “I’ll kill him when I get my hands on him.” Dave hummed like a broken engine.

  Which made her narrow her eyes. Was he? A broken robot, gone rogue? Her head pounding, she slid into a chair and closed her eyes. What she needed was a full night’s sleep, without nightmares.

  Too much to ask for these days.

  “Ella,” Dave said quietly, “have you told me everything?”

  That snapped her eyes open. “What?”

  “Those notes about your childhood.” Dave sat at his desk, his face tired. “Are there things you’re hiding from me, abilities you’re not telling me about?”

  Ella hid a wince. “I swear I’m not working against humankind.�
��

  “And what about Finn?”

  Anger flared. “He saved your life the other day when the Shades attacked the HQ.” She leaned forward, remembering Finn throwing himself in front of Dave, slashing at the trolls and goblins. “Would you have done the same for him?”

  Dave sat, staring at her as if he was trying to read her face. She stared back, hoping only sincerity and righteous anger showed in her eyes. She did believe Finn was on their side. And, in his way, he was more human than most people she’d met over the years.

  “That’s not what I’m asking,” Dave said.

  “Then what are you asking? He’s on our side. How many times does he have to save my life, and yours, to make you believe it?”

  Dave scowled. He rubbed a hand over his face. “How come he’s not hiding behind your skirts anymore?”

  Fuck you, Dave. “He went to get weapons. The Shades may be silent but they aren’t idle. They attack anywhere, at any time. Better be prepared.”

  ***

  Simon’s apartment was silent as a grave and wasn’t that an apt comparison? Ella shivered and huddled into her jacket. It was the second time she’d broken in since Simon’s death. Once she’d come looking for clues, hoping to find him. Now she knew where he was — in the mortuary until the ground thawed for the funeral — and what she was looking for was information about her past, Simon’s past, Dave’s nature and possibly, hopefully, John Grey.

  Odd that the apartment hadn’t been cleared yet but she was grateful for it as she stood in the living room alone. She’d asked Finn to wait in the car, and for a single moment, hurt had flashed through his eyes, quickly hidden, replaced with his usual glare. It was obvious he believed she didn’t trust him at all, and she wanted to shake him and tell him she did.

  But couldn’t. Couldn’t explain that she’d only asked him to stay behind because she needed to be alone in Simon’s apartment to hear her own thoughts, to recall things and make connections she couldn’t make with Finn there, distracting her.

  Though even now, alone in the apartment, she couldn’t take him out of her thoughts. How pathetic was that?

  She moved to the kitchen, every memento of Simon a splinter in her heart. She wasn’t angry with him anymore; the doubts Dave had planted in her mind about her ex-partner were mostly gone. Simon had most assuredly been human, whereas Dave...

  Shaking her head, she opened a cupboard and stared at the neat lines of cups and glasses. She didn’t know what she hoped to find. A lost page, a note left somewhere, a file with the answers to all her questions.

  Dream on.

  Sighing softly, she ran a finger over the dust on the shelves and the table. Ghost memories of herself and Simon drinking red wine and talking until late at night teased her, imprinted on the air of the room.

  “Simon...” She hesitated. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but weren’t the Shades something similar? “If you can hear me...” Dammit, desperation sucked. “I need your help, all right? I need to find who the hell John Grey is, and Dave... And Dave, too.”

  Only the wind whistled through a crack in the window. Feeling stupid, she entered Simon’s bedroom and sat on his bed. Why should she expect to find anything at all? The Bureau had surely gone through the apartment with a fine comb many times over.

  Then again, she’d found the code to the book, the Grarsaga, hadn’t she? Although Dave had apparently read the book and found nothing interesting in it.

  Hell.

  If Simon had hidden something for her eyes only, where would he hide it? Had he known he’d die that day? Had he been afraid of something like that?

  The headache returned, the blood pounding in her temples like a drum. She massaged her scalp. What was important to the two of them that Dave wouldn’t have known about?

  Getting up, she went to the shelves covering one side of the bedroom, filled with mementos and books. She’d never known anyone who owned so many books apart from libraries. She’d bet Dave had gone through every one of them. She caressed a plastic toy knight Simon had brought from one of his trips to Europe. Germany, she remembered. From some castle or other. Next to it stood a bust of Aristotle, carved from white stone. Marble. And a silly little wooden car, green, with an S she’d drawn on it, a gift for him when he’d gotten his last car. Her heart beat painfully fast. She lifted it, turned it over, placed it back.

  Yeah. No secret messages there.

  Although she felt like an idiot, she nevertheless picked up the next item she had given Simon — a candle in the shape of a cake slice. He’d often joked he might eat it one day if he was hungry enough. It was dusty and cold, and she left it back where she’d found it. The next item was a lighter, covered in embossed leather in the shape of a chameleon. She’d found it in an open-air market with Simon, and she’d bought it for him because he’d seemed to like it. He’d laughed, said he’d start smoking to use her present, and she’d threatened to replace it with a real chameleon if he ever did. He detested chameleons, he’d admitted to her later, because they could hide and watch you and you wouldn’t even know they were there, invisible in their camouflage.

  She turned the leather case in her hand, and tugged at the lighter. It slid out. Something white inside the tube caught her eye, and she pulled it free. A piece of paper.

  With trembling fingers she unfolded it. And stared at the strange name written smack in the middle of it.

  A rustle from the doorway caught her attention.

  “Don’t move,” said an icy female voice. Slender hands holding a handgun, the grip steady and sure, a tube skirt, long legs and high heels. Short dark hair and green eyes, cold with fury.

  “Sarah?” Ella blinked. “What are you doing?”

  “Stopping you from making this into a bigger mess,” Sarah said. “What’s on that piece of paper?”

  “Nothing important.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Drop it to the floor.”

  Ella dropped the paper. “What do you want?”

  “Remove your gun and your knives and place them on the floor.”

  Cursing inside, Ella did as told, putting her gun and two knives on the floor and stepping away. “Now what? I thought we were on the same side.”

  “So did I,” Sarah said. “Do you deny you’re working for John Grey?”

  “Are you serious?” Ella pushed through gritted teeth. “Of course I deny it.”

  Sarah’s full lips pulled back in a sneer. “Before the Shades fell silent, they mentioned David Holborn, your boss, together with John Grey. I bet they’re one and the same.”

  Oh shit. “Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind,” Ella muttered. “But I have yet to catch him opening a Gate.”

  “So you say.” Sarah stepped forward, gun never leaving the target, and picked up the paper. “You seem close.”

  “Close?” Ella shook her head. “I work for the Paranormal Bureau and he’s my boss. How close that makes us, I don’t know.”

  “You seem to be friends.”

  “Not really, but I see you’ve got it all figured out.”

  “Working on the details. I’ll make...” Sarah glanced down at the paper and frowned. “Who’s this supposed to be?”

  “You tell me,” Ella muttered.

  “You sneaked into Simon’s apartment to get this piece of paper and now you want me to believe you don’t know?” She snorted. “What’s the connection to John Grey?”

  “I don’t know who the hell John Grey is,” Ella said. “Why do you care anyway?”

  “None of your business—” Sarah’s eyes widened and she stepped forward from the doorway into the room.

  What the hell? Ella frowned when Sarah clicked the safety on her gun and put it down on the floor carefully before straightening again.

  Then Finn appeared behind her, filling the doorframe, his gun held in both hands. He seemed to glow in the dimness. “Back off,” he said, his voice soft but sharp.

  “Good timing,” Ella whispered and went to retrieve her w
eapons, sighing in satisfaction at the familiar weight of the knives at her belt. Holding her gun loosely in one hand, she approached Sarah who was sending them wary looks, her hands held up.

  “Now let’s start again,” Ella said and snatched the piece of paper from Sarah’s grip. “As I said, I don’t know who John Grey is and I’m most definitely not working for the elves, so why don’t you tell us who you’re working for?”

  Finn sighted down his gun, for all the world as if he was about to shoot. Ella really hoped he wasn’t having a flashback.

  The same doubt seemed to cross Sarah’s face, and a shiver went through her. “Wait,” she said.

  Finn’s mouth tightened and he nodded. Ah good, he was all there.

  Ella cleared her throat. “Well?”

  “Why should I tell you anything?” Sarah said, swallowing, her gaze darting from Finn to her. “I know what the Shades said.”

  “The Shades say many obscure things,” Ella muttered, checking her gun, more for show than anything. “Dave may or may not be John Grey, but I swear to you Finn and I have been doing all we can to stop this invasion.”

  Sarah’s mouth thinned. “And I’m supposed to take your word, just like that?”

  “You’re the one who put a gun in my face.” Ella lifted her chin. “What stops me from arresting you for assault?”

  “You broke into Simon’s apartment.”

  “I’m police.”

  “And I’m his girlfriend.”

  Silence fell, heavy with distrust.

  “I think it’s time you convinced me to trust you,” Ella said, keeping her voice even. “You said you don’t want the Gates to open; neither do we. Who sent you?”

  Sarah bit her lip, glaring. Then her shoulders slumped. “I belong to an organization for the protection—”

  “—of the Gates.” Ella sighed. “A secret organization that has existed for centuries, ever since the elves last crossed over in the Middle Ages? Has the spiral as its symbol?”

  “How do you...?” Sarah blinked.

  Anger burned in Ella’s chest. She raised her gun, making the other woman flinch. “Do you think I’m stupid? You say you don’t trust Dave and you’ve been collaborating with him all this time?”