Boreal and John Grey Season 2

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  He limped, she noticed. He usually did but tonight it was more pronounced. Yeah well. If the wet chill made the old fracture in her leg ache she couldn’t imagine what it did to his.

  A light drizzle fell. She pulled her hood over her head. Nothing on the rooftop marked the passing of a dragon — no nest, no scorch marks on the chimneys and water tanks, no feathers strewn about. If this was someone’s idea of a joke...

  Something zipped by her head. She waved a hand at her face with the vague idea it was an insect — then that something slammed into the wall of the rooftop entrance, cracking the concrete.

  A bullet. “Finn, down!” Ella ducked as another bullet hit the wall. “Shit.”

  Finn went flat on his belly and crawled toward her, his long hair dragging on the concrete. Grabbing her arm, he gestured at the metal door, left ajar by the night guard. Together they dragged themselves on the wet concrete, the chill seeping into Ella’s bones, although she barely felt it, her skin steaming with the rush of adrenaline.

  Finn sat up when they reached the entrance and kicked the door open wide with his booted foot. They rolled behind the relative protection of the brick wall.

  Ella fought to catch her breath. “The hell. A sniper?”

  Finn dragged her up to her feet, his hands like steel bands around her arms, his eyes blazing. “You okay?”

  The words caught in her throat, so she just nodded. He leaned closer, his breath warm on her lips, his eyes darkening.

  Then he pulled back, tensing, just as footsteps sounded behind him, in the dimness.

  Fuck.

  He turned, reaching for his gun, and Ella drew hers, her breathing uneven.

  The chubby guard came racing up the stairs, red-faced and panting. He stopped in his tracks when he saw them.

  “I heard something,” he wheezed, his eyes going from one gun to the other. He lifted his hands. “Came to check on you, guys.”

  Ella lowered her gun. “Other than getting shot at, we’re peachy.”

  Finn’s eyes were narrowed, his hands on his pistol steady. His gaze had the quality of a laser beam, focused; devoid of emotion.

  The guard glanced from Ella to Finn. “Hey, man, I had nothing to do with it, I only came up to see what the noise had been. I’ve been working here for seven years, you can ask anyone. Please.”

  Ella put a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “He’s okay. Don’t shoot him.”

  Finn didn’t move for a few long seconds, his jaw working. Then he nodded and holstered his pistol.

  Okay, one disaster averted.

  “Let’s go,” Ella muttered. “We should talk to Dave, maybe he has something to tell us about the caller’s identity.”

  Though she seriously doubted it. It had been a trap to pull them out into the open, give an easy target.

  Which begged the question why now, why here? They were often exposed, going where any sighting was reported. Hell, their apartment windows were huge. She’d make sure to draw the curtains from now on.

  Who wanted to kill them? Who knew about them in the first place outside of the organization — and Dave?

  And above all, what had changed?

  ***

  “A sniper.” Dave paced the length of his office. “This is annoying.”

  “Annoying. That’s all you got to say?” Ella muttered, her hands trembling around her cup of hot tea. “They were trying to kill us. Who did you tell about us, about this case?”

  Finn observed them from his usual spot by the door. Saying nothing; showing no reaction.

  “This isn’t a case.” Dave sniffed and stopped, turned to face her. “This is my life’s mission, the reason of my existence.”

  Ella sighed, forced herself to sip some more tea. “So who was trying to take us out?”

  Dave shook his head. “The army’s suspicious, as you well know.”

  “Captain Wood.”

  “Among others. Then there’s Sarah.”

  Simon’s girlfriend. Widow. God. “I thought the mighty Organization had put her in her place?” From the way Dave had acted with the Captain, it had seemed he’d had the upper hand.

  “Sort of.” Dave scratched the ever-present stubble on his cheek. “In the measure of possible.”

  “What about other members of the Organization? Do they know?”

  “Only the Council. I had to tell them. They agreed with me that keeping Finn alive was imperative.”

  Finn gave a soft snort, the only indication so far that he’d been listening.

  “And then there’s your friend, Mike, the oracle,” Dave said.

  “Mike likes Finn. He’d never betray him.”

  “Maybe he has a big mouth. Maybe he likes to talk when he’s at the hairdresser’s, or the bar.”

  Ella banged her teacup on the desk, splashing tea around. “Mike’s family. He’d never betray us, so why don’t you start working on a list with real suspects?”

  “Stand down, agent.” Dave wasn’t much taller than her but still he managed to look down his nose at her. “And mind your manners.”

  Ella scowled. “Yes, oh great Guardian, Sir.”

  Dave gave her a disapproving look.

  The corner of Finn’s mouth lifted.

  “I’ll be checking who was out for you tonight, and will double the security around your building, including the buildings facing your apartment.”

  Ella didn’t roll her eyes because she could see the wisdom in this, even though having more security grated. “Good.”

  “Meanwhile, go and grab Kevlar jackets from the armory. And keep away from exposed places.”

  “The dragon will be nesting on rooftops,” Ella reminded him.

  “As I said: Kevlar jackets. And keep your eyes peeled.” He was looking at Finn, an odd, calculating expression on his face.

  Ella didn’t like it. From Finn’s glare, he didn’t either. “If this is Sarah’s doing...”

  “She swore she’d hold back,” Dave said and moved to sit behind his desk. “I’ll talk to her. She won’t be a problem.”

  “Yeah well, she was about to kill Finn last time we met.” At the clinic, where she’d gone from friendly to deadly when she found out Finn was John Grey. Probably a natural reaction. Still... Mike had held a gun to Sarah’s head, had trussed her like a Christmas turkey and left her to stew until Dave had freed her. It was possible she held a grudge. “I don’t trust her.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Dave said. “She’ll do as I tell her.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “She’s my step-daughter.”

  ***

  Dave’s step-daughter. It now made sense why Dave had been at Sarah’s side at the hospital when she was hurt by the Shades. Dave normally didn’t visit the victims of Shade attacks. It had nagged at Ella at the time.

  The armory guard waved them through. Jeff raised his head when they entered and grinned. “Elly, my girl. Long time no see.”

  “It’s been exactly three days, Jefferson,” Ella muttered, too busy turning the matter of Sarah over and over in her head. Had she been the one who ordered the shooting? Was her hatred of John Grey, for Finn, so strong?

  “As I said. Long time.” Jeff smirked and rose, grabbing his walking cane. He limped around his working table where parts of machines and guns were strewn haphazardly and made his way to them. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  He rarely got up, if ever, to greet visitors and Ella had to smile. “Kevlar jackets. Dave’s orders.”

  He frowned. “Kevlar can stop the Shades?”

  “No, but it can stop bullets.” Ella grimaced. “Hopefully.”

  Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “What happened now?”

  “Someone’s out to get us. That, or we happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. What are the odds of that?”

  “I see.” Jeff’s expression darkened. “Well, if you’re so unlucky, then better cover your asses.” He turned to Finn who was studying the rows of machine guns hanging on the wall. “Wa
nt one of those?”

  Finn stepped back, a shudder going through him.

  “Just grab one,” Jeff said, “see how it feels. Familiar with them, are you?”

  Finn said nothing, standing stock still.

  “We just got shot at,” Ella muttered. “We’re a little tense.”

  “Understandable.” Jeff waved toward the other end of the room. “Go pick your jackets.”

  But his gaze remained on Finn as they sorted through the Kevlar vests and Ella would give her salary to know what went through his head.

  Chapter Three

  Dreki

  A flash of lightning in darkness. A long, narrow face leering down at her. Burning pain in her back.

  Ella jerked awake, her heart thumping uncomfortably.

  Finn. Where was he? The sheets were still warm, the imprint of his head visible in the pillow.

  Swinging her legs off the bed, she stood and listened. The sound of running water came from the bathroom and she padded barefoot down the corridor, the cold of the tiles stinging her soles. The bathroom door was open a crack, light shining through.

  She pushed it. “Finn?”

  He stood at the sink, a hand clasped to his shoulder, where his mark was. Brilliance filled the air, leaping from his skin in bright arches. He glanced at her, his eyes slits of white fire. His breathing came too fast.

  She took a step back, a hand pressed to her mouth.

  Finn blinked. In degrees the light diminished. He blinked, turned off the tap and bowed his head.

  “Hey.” Forcing the shock down, Ella walked up to him, put a hand on top of his, over his mark. His skin was burning hot. “Can I see?” She met his hooded gaze in the mirror.

  He put his hand down.

  The mark didn’t look different. It was raised like a scar, grey in color, a circle with a blossom in its center, dots surrounding it. He smelled so good, muskier than usual, and sweeter.

  “I saw a face,” she said. “And lightning. Was that your dream?”

  Finn grimaced. “I don’t remember.” He shoved past her and limped out of the bathroom, heading toward into the living room.

  She followed, unnerved.

  He went to stand by one of the large windows and she approached him in silence. He’d leaned his head on the wooden frame, his gaze heavy-lidded. He tweaked back the heavy curtains.

  Lamp posts created pools of yellow light in the street below. At regular intervals, a shadow stirred.

  Dave’s men. Guarding, watching. Reporting back.

  A shudder went through Finn. Gathering a blanket from the sofa, she went to throw it over his bare shoulders.

  “Talk to me,” she murmured. “Maybe I can help.”

  He said nothing, drawing the blanket around him.

  Okay, so he was in one of those moods. She rubbed her arms and turned away from the window, sliding down the wall. She stretched her legs out.

  “I have bad dreams, too,” she said. “Most people do. It’s nothing unusual.”

  Wheels turning, Shades chasing her on rooftops, Simon’s corpse grinning at her from the morgue slab. Older memories, steeped with sadness she couldn’t explain. Without Finn’s nightmares to occupy her sleep, her own had returned.

  “You and I, though...” She sighed. “We relive our past in our dreams. Not sure how accurate the memories are, but there you have it. It’s something we have in common. We remember through our dreams, and it’s hard.”

  He glanced at her, head tilted to the side, silver hair spilling over his shoulders. Listening.

  “I have some memories of Dave from my childhood. I think he forced me to train my abilities, to look into Aelfheim. He hadn’t guessed I was seeing through your eyes.” She studied her hands that hung between her knees. “It hurt. In my memories it always hurt. It felt as if he forced my mind into it, twisted it to strengthen my ability. Like a violation.” She forced down a shiver. “Until I met you, I had no idea what those dreams meant. Talking about them, with you and Mike, made them hurt less. ”

  Finn had turned back to the window. In the glass reflection, his eyes were clouded with darkness.

  Not ready to talk yet.

  Ella sighed. “Why don’t I share your dreams anymore? Maybe I’m doing something to block them... Like I did before I met you, without really knowing what I was doing. I could—”

  Finn backed away from the window, the blanket slipping from his shoulders. “I don’t know why.” His voice was tight. “I can’t remember my dreams.”

  Yeah. Ella knocked her head back on the wall. Sure. And pigs can fly.

  ***

  “The dragon’s been sighted,” Dave said, his voice tinny over the phone.

  “Are you certain? Maybe it’s another trap.”

  “I have visual.”

  “You what?” Ella gaped at her mobile, then remembered to put it back to her ear. She stood in the middle of the supermarket, a can of corn in her other hand. “Like, now? Where the hell are you?”

  “Moving down Elsbrock Avenue.” Voices in the background. “Thought to check it out for myself before I called you.”

  “Right.” Good robot. “Okay, I’ll get Finn and be on our way.”

  “You’d better hurry. She’s in the air.”

  Damn.

  She found Finn a few rows down. He was pondering the difference between spring onions and leeks. He looked up when she approached, his brows knitting.

  “Dave called you,” he said. “The dragon.”

  Damn elven hearing. “Uh huh. Come on, let’s go.”

  He dropped the veggies back into their boxes and followed her out to the car. “He saw her.”

  “That’s what he says.” She slipped into the driver’s seat. “I hope you’re up for some running on rooftops.”

  He nodded, an absent gesture, his gaze turned outside.

  Was he up to it? Up to killing a dragon? She studied him as she drove. He looked dead tired, dark bags like bruises under his eyes.

  Damn Dave and his demands.

  “Hey, Finn, listen... If you can’t...” Yeah, then what? Who can do it? “Dave can bring in the army, no matter what he says. They’ll take the dragon down, end of story.”

  It would draw all sorts of attention but still...

  “No.” Finn didn’t look at her. “Have to know first if she laid the eggs.”

  Ella gritted her teeth. “Okay, but I’m sure there are ways to do that even if you—”

  “I can do it.”

  She chewed on that as she caught sight of Dave’s car, parked in the avenue. She stopped behind, anger warming her neck. “If it’s because Dave said it’s your duty...”

  Finn’s hand paused on the door handle. “Dave was right.”

  “So now you’re defending the damn guardian? He shot you, Finn, and no matter what he does—”

  “Shh.” His hand cupped her face and he bent close, his breath caressing her lips. Her skin burned where his hand touched. “I’m not defending him.”

  “You don’t have to do everything he says,” she said, her voice small. “He can’t afford to lose you, so feel free to refuse now and then.” She swallowed. “I don’t trust him.”

  “I’ve got this,” Finn whispered. “I’ve hunted many dragons. Don’t worry.”

  As if that was possible. “Many pissy, pregnant dragons flying over tall buildings while a sniper is out to get you?”

  Finn drew back, his expression hardening.

  Yeah, she didn’t think so.

  Dammit all to hell.

  ***

  The elevator creaked and whined as it ascended. Cold wind hit Ella’s face as soon as she stepped out onto the rooftop. Sweat ran down her back, chilling her.

  It was a strange tableau.

  Evening was falling, a splash of red on the low-hanging clouds. Headlights picked out the three agents stationed at the corners of the roof. They were dressed in black, with fancy earpieces and helmets, their guns ready.

  Finn stood near the led
ge, legs apart, gazing up. He’d shrugged off his jacket and only wore his jeans and a white t-shirt with the black Kevlar jacket on top. The wind teased back his silver-white hair.

  Ella half expected a camera to start rolling somewhere behind her and a director to call “action!”

  As it was, the shout that came was “dragon!” and a second later she caught the white streak across the ruddy clouds.

  Where was it heading?

  Finn didn’t seem to even think. He took a flying leap off the roof.

  Fucking hell.

  “Dammit, Finn!” She was running before the words left her mouth. Her heart jolted, thudding erratically, her boots slammed the concrete, and then she was on the ledge, the wind lashing her face and darkness spreading below.

  Fuck. She jerked back, breathing hard. Then she forced herself to approach again. You can do this, Ella. Not your first time. Suck it up.

  The next roof was slightly lower, and not far. The gap was four feet across, tops. She could do this. Had to do this.

  Couldn’t leave Finn alone with the damn dragon.

  She moved back to gain momentum, ran and jumped.

  For a dizzying second she was sure she’d fall between the buildings — then her boots thumped on the concrete of the next roof and her knees bent. She panicked, flailing as she tilted backward, then managed to right herself.

  Standing on shaky legs, she tried to locate Finn. She caught a flash of silvery hair across the rooftop. There. She set off after him.

  Then Finn jumped again, disappearing in the night.

  Goddammit.

  Ella reached the ledge just in time to see him run across the next rooftop and jump again.

  She’d kill him for this.

  As she pounded across the building and vaulted onto the next, she was dimly aware of voices and heavy footfalls behind her — the other agents, she assumed, following.

  A flash of white ahead, rising over the next building.

  The dragon.

  Wind whipped over the rooftop as the dragon beat its wings, one ponderous flap. It was as she remembered it —huge like a truck, white like snow, its feathered wings spanning the building, its bony crest glowing.