Duh. “You got that right.”
“I won’t try anything against you, I swear. Finn won’t deliver us to his evil siblings, I get it. Excuse me if I couldn’t be sure from the start he was on our side. We could work together.”
Ella suppressed a snort. Honestly? With Finn barely keeping the Gates closed and the Veil from unraveling, the last thing she needed was trigger-happy Sarah. It might only take a hint of the Gates opening and she’d be shooting them dead.
Finn glared at Sarah. Her sentiments exactly.
“Sorry, Sarah.” Mike shrugged. “Not interested in collaborating on this one.”
“Yeah,” Ella said. “The line’s busy right now, try again later.” Preferably in a couple centuries.
“I see.” Sarah massaged her temples with her fingertips. “I suppose you don’t need my help after all. Stupid of me to think you did. Never mind that I have access to the invaluable library of the Organization, with its rare manuscripts, and to other information you were after... But maybe you stopped caring about why Simon was killed.”
What? Ella stood. “What about Simon?”
“Ah, wouldn’t you like to know.” Sarah smiled sweetly. “Like, who he really worked for. But I guess you’re not interested.” She took a step toward the door. “I’d like my weapons back, please.”
Ella opened her mouth to curse her to hell and back.
“Wait,” Finn said.
A stillness fell over the room.
Finn turned the knife he held in his hand, light reflecting on the polished blade. “Maybe we can help each other.”
Well, fuck me. What are you doing, Finn?
Sarah’s heels skreeked on the floor as she turned around to face him. “Ah. Is it a deal, then?”
Finn gazed at her steadily over the bright blade. “It’s a deal.”
Chapter Two
Weight
Ella slid Finn a page torn from her notebook and waited.
Then waited some more. Finn looked up from what she’d scribbled, his face unreadable, and went back to his exercises. He was doing deep lunges to the sides and his bare chest glimmered, pale and perfectly muscled, his six-pack rippling with every movement.
Stop getting distracted.
Ella snatched back the paper and stared at it. Surely her handwriting wasn’t illegible? She’d never been good at calligraphy, but nobody had ever complained that it was so terrible.
It read: ‘Why the hell did you tell Sarah you’ll help her? Was it meant for Dave’s ears?’
Clear as day. Succinct and to the point. It even conveyed her opinion on the matter. Very diplomatically phrased, if she was to say so herself.
She thrust it back into Finn’s face, shook it. “Well?”
His expression didn’t change, though he slowed to a halt. “I can’t write,” he said.
“At all?” She gaped. “But you can read. And sign your name.”
He shook his head. His hair was caught in a ponytail and it swung behind him like the tail of a ghostly cat. “I can’t write well,” he clarified.
Oh, okay. “Spelling in English is a bitch,” she had to agree.
He pressed his lips together. Didn’t look happy.
“It’s no big deal,” Ella said. “I don’t care how you write it. We need to do this. We can’t stay in the shower all day.” The one place where they thought Dave might be unable to listen in.
Finn’s cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkled, a brilliant blue. He grinned. “No?”
“No, Finn.”
Oh god, the mere idea made her body tingle. But yeah, she hadn’t been able to find the bug on him and writing was the only way she could think of.
“Here.” She took up the pen and notepad and pressed herself to his side. He was warm and he smelled of clean sweat and musk. “Just write the why.”
He tensed. He reached for the pen and his fingers curled awkwardly around it, not bending all the way.
Ella frowned. “What’s wrong with those fingers?”
Finn dragged the pen on the paper, his jaw clenched.
“Were they broken at some point?”
He nodded, painstakingly scrawling letters. Why hadn’t she noticed before? He always held his knives and gun with such confidence she wouldn’t have guessed his forefinger and middle finger were so stiff.
She put her hand over his, steadying his movements. Dammit, this wasn’t working out. If she thought her handwriting was bad, Finn’s was like a psychedelic drawing. She leaned over it, trying to make out the few words.
Heed the crow? Feed the cow?
Damn. Maybe if she went cross-eyed she’d see it? Perhaps if she took magic mushrooms.
Need to know. Ah, right. About... the ninja. No. The sensei. Wasn’t that Japanese for ‘master’? Or was it ‘teacher’?
Finn didn’t speak Japanese. Well, neither did she.
“Stop.” She took the pen from his fingers and scrunched up the paper. “Technology, my friend, rules. Wait a second.”
She strode off to the bedroom and returned with her laptop. Briefly she wondered if Dave monitored her computer as well and she turned off the wireless internet just in case. She put it on the coffee table and dragged Finn to the couch.
“Now,” she said, sitting next to him. “Try again.”
Finn frowned at the open document on the screen. Looked like he didn’t have much experience with that. Ella demonstrated and his fingers dragged on the keys, typing a string of random letters.
“Gently,” Ella said. “One key at a time.”
Finn’s brow furrowed in concentration as he tried again. Ella leaned against him, inhaling his scent, reading the words as they appeared.
‘I need to know about the Aesir, the Vanir and the Weaver.’
The Aesir and Vanir were gods in the Nordic pantheon, but who the hell was the Weaver?
She tapped the word on the screen and wagged her brows at Finn. “Who’s that?”
“I don’t know.” Finn frowned. “But I need to find out.”
***
“Hey, Connor.” Ella high-fived the owner of the Hot Bodies Gym and nodded at Lily, her favorite personal trainer. “How are things?”
“Not the same without you.” Connor grinned, then his gaze fixed behind her. “Who’s your friend?”
Finn was giving the machines a narrow look. He glanced at Connor, with just a hint of a scowl, then returned to his scrutiny of the place.
“He’s my new partner at work,” Ella said. “He’s also new in town and likes to keep in form. With the weather turning bad he decided to join me.” She hoped she’d covered the awkward silence.
“Yeah. Nice.” Connor sounded skeptical. Probably because Finn was still glaring at everyone and everything in the gym.
Ella elbowed Finn in the ribs. “Say hi to the guys. I’ve been coming here for years. They’ll whip you into shape in no time.”
“Whip?” Finn’s scowl deepened.
“In a manner of speaking.”
Finn, who had no need whatsoever to be whipped into shape, nodded reluctantly. Some day she’d find out why he mistrusted machines and doctors so much. Meanwhile, Connor and Lily gave them funny looks.
Um, yeah. Maybe their conversation had been a little bit unusual.
Lily stepped closer, stretching out her hand toward Finn. “Hi. Why don’t you tell me what you need and I’ll make you a program? Any health issues I should know about?”
Finn shook his head, grabbed her hand, bared his teeth.
Ella saw her wince, whether from the wolfish smile or because her fingers were being crushed, she couldn’t be sure.
She put a hand on Finn’s arm and tugged him away, seeing disappointment wash over Lily’s face. “Come on, let me show you my favorite machines.”
Finn tensed briefly, his muscles going taut under her fingers, then let her lead him away.
“Just play along,” Ella whispered as she guided him to the treadmills. The gym was full of people and noise. Music was pl
aying on the speakers, people talked and laughed. A good place as any to meet with Sarah. At least there would be some interference with the transmission.
It puzzled her that she hadn’t been able to find the transmitter or the tracking device on Finn. Where were the frigging things hidden? What were they made of? She’d considered magic — but Dave was a robot, not an elf. Which begged the question — what was elven tech like?
And damn her if she had any answers.
Which was crazy, because she had an elf right next to her whom to ask. Only with Dave listening in, keeping the conversation innocent was a struggle.
Oh fuck it. “Hey, Finn...Are elven machines made of metal?”
Finn limped to a weight machine and stopped, leaning against it. “Yes,” he said, bending over to massage his calf.
Metal. But what if elven metals acted differently to the ones she knew? After all, Dave was full of machinery. Did he set off every scanner when he visited an airport?
Ella sighed. He probably didn’t fly.
“Hey.” Lily had approached once more. She smiled at Finn. “Wanna try the weight machine?”
Ella left them and climbed on the rowing machine across from them.
She had to find that bug. Had she missed a spot on Finn’s skin? Well, she wouldn’t mind running her hands all over him again, just to make sure. She grinned.
Where was Sarah? And had she told them her real reasons for wanting to exchange information, or was she a mole?
Did Dave need a spy? True, he’d lost visual with their apartment from the moment they’d started closing the drapes because of the sniper — but he’d had the bug planted.
Had he?
Dammit, this whole thing was nuts.
A whistle rang through the gym, and Ella looked up. People were gathering around the weight machine. Where Finn was.
Uneasy, she hopped off the rowing machine to see what the fuss was about. She peeked around the gawkers and blinked.
Okay, just how many pounds could a guy bench press? Those barbells looked like a few too many.
Lily stood by the side, her cheeks flushed. “You didn’t say you were a professional,” she breathed. “Finn, is it?”
Right. Whoa. Time to take Finn away from the weight machine. Coming to the gym might not have been one of her brightest ideas.
Ella shoved through and waved at Finn. “Maybe it’s time to go.”
He lifted a brow but pushed up the weights, placing them on their support.
“Not on my account,” a female voice purred from behind Ella. Sarah. She winked and pursed her red lips to blow Finn a kiss. “I just love the extra quiet, extra strong types.”
***
“Why here?” Sarah asked, sitting gingerly on a bench, wrinkling her nose. “I can understand you wanting to get out of the apartment and Dave’s surveillance, but a cafe would do. This place’s too noisy.”
“We were here already,” Ella bit out. If they ever came back, she’d have to figure out how much a normal guy could lift before turning Finn loose on the machines again. Lily was watching them from across the gym, no doubt dying to ask Finn if he was someone famous — or fucking Superman — and if he’d go out with her. Her eyes shone with something akin to adoration.
Hell.
“I hate shouting.” Sarah frowned and bit on a crimson nail. “And the din doesn’t help with my headache.”
Who cares? Ella thought darkly. She glanced at Finn who was rubbing his shoulder, his mouth pressed into a line. Looked like his mark hurt.
“So...” Sarah patted the bench next to her. “Have a seat, super-boy. Very impressive, what you did with the weights. Or is it normal for elves?”
Finn didn’t move.
“Suit yourself,” Sarah said. “You want no small talk, that’s fine with me. I want you to tell me how to stop the screeching.”
“Why don’t you tell us first what you know about Simon?” Ella said before Finn opened his mouth. The question had been burning a hole in her stomach ever since Sarah’s visit. “What did you find out?”
“Uh-uh.” Sarah tsked. “Not before cutie-pie here tells me what I wanna know.”
Grinding her teeth, Ella shut up and clenched her hands before she punched the living daylights out of the woman. Not the best of ideas, knocking out Dave’s step-daughter. Keeping as much distance between herself and Sarah as possible, Ella sank onto the bench and waited for Finn’s next move.
“Magic has leaked into the Veil,” Finn said, still rubbing his shoulder.
“Magic like fire,” Sarah said, tapping a rhythm on her thigh with her manicured nails. “Right. But you’re controlling it.”
“Yes,” Finn said.
Hear that, Dave?
“Go on.” Sarah sighed. “Can you help me?”
Finn nodded and limped to the bench, wincing with each step. “You have information,” he said, his voice barely audible over the noise.
“Yeah, I—”
“About the worlds and the Veil.”
“That’s right.” She narrowed her cat-like eyes. “You want info, I get it. What about me?”
So far so good, Ella thought. If Dave was listening in, there was nothing about Finn being or not being able to open Gates.
“The reason for the noise in the Veil is this new magic,” Finn said, bracing an arm against the wall. “It shouldn’t be there; something changed. A spell was broken. I need to know what spell that is.”
“And how will I know which spell that is?”
“Find me information about the Weaver, also called the Spider.”
“The spider.” Sarah huffed. “Wait, you still haven’t said how you’re gonna help me.”
Finn was silent for a few beats. “I’m John Grey,” he said, his voice low and rough, and Ella shivered. She’d never heard him say it out loud. “I can feel the threads. But they are many. I need to know which threads are affected, and in what way.”
“And when you know, what will you do?”
Ella held her breath.
“I’ll touch them,” Finn whispered, “and I’ll play them. I’ll correct the music.”
***
The Veil. Or a textile. An instrument. Or a river.
Ella shivered as they trudged toward their building, battling a wind made of knives. Tried to imagine what it was like, handling such a power, feeling... god, feeling the world as a giant matrix made of vibrating strings, and being able to touch them, maybe even move them...
Feeling like a god.
Would moving the threads change the worlds? Would changing the tune of the universe alter fate? Just how much could Finn do?
Talking of whom...
Ella realized he wasn’t beside her. She spun around, heart in her throat, and saw him in front of a lit-up store window. She walked toward him, shoving her hands into her pockets. Reaching his side, she stared into the shop. Christmas lights flashed, showcasing—
—women’s underwear?
“Anything you want to buy, Finn?” She stuck her tongue out to him. “I bet you’ll look good in a pink lacy thong.”
Finn grunted and put a hand out, leaning against the glass.
“Or maybe the red suspenders.” God, Ella sincerely hoped Dave was listening and that he’d short-circuit. “Hey, I know. What about those fluffy handcuffs? Those, and the pink thong.”
Finn gave her a wide-eyed look, the lights from the display reflecting in his eyes. Hm yeah... Maybe they should go shopping. She didn’t care for pink, but she couldn’t deny that the idea of handcuffs — Finn in handcuffs, to be more precise, naked and tied to the bed — had been on her mind for a while. For some reason he brought out the kink in her.
Then again, after the snatches she got from Finn’s dreams lately, she thought maybe Finn didn’t care much for cuffs. The way he’d hung over that stone table, his blood dripping, fiery pain racing down his back...
With a shudder she turned her gaze away and tugged on Finn’s arm. “Done window-shopping?”
<
br /> He pushed off the storefront and limped along. Then he stopped again. He was panting, his face slicked with sweat.
Okay, now she was worried. “What is it?” She slipped an arm around him and felt him shake.
“I’m okay,” he bit out but leaned against her and took a hopping step.
Crap, his leg. He was barely putting any weight on it. When had it gotten so bad he couldn’t walk? Though there was a wet chill in the air, probably a storm coming. No wonder.
“We aren’t far from home,” she said. “Come on.”
It was time to return to the physiotherapist, granted the woman wasn’t still freaked out from Finn’s convulsing fit the last time.
By the time they reached their building, Finn hung off her, his breath whistling through his teeth. It scared her. She jabbed the elevator button viciously, cursing inside.
“Almost there,” she muttered as she hauled Finn into their apartment and pushed him down on the sofa. “Has it ever been so bad?”
He shook his head, his face white.
Grabbing a tube of analgesic gel from the medical cabinet, she went to sit next to him.
“What are you...?” He tried to inch away into the cushions but he was brought up short by the backrest. It was as if pain threw him back to the first days they’d met, made him skittish.
“I’ll rub just some gel in your leg. It’ll relieve the pain.”
Finn looked from the tube to his leg and back, his jaw working. She waited until he nodded.
She knelt at his feet and lifted the pant leg to reveal the ugly scars. The smell of menthol filled the air as she squirted some on her fingers and massaged the gel into his shin. She dug her fingers into muscles like steel, worked his calf and all the way down to his ankle, feeling the knobs on the badly healed bone.
His head fell back on the couch. His eyes were closing, the tension finally leaving his body. A small sound of pleasure had her looking up.
His lids drooped, leaving only slivers of blue — gone warm and dark with something different.
Boreal and John Grey Season 2 Page 9
