“They’re keeping her for observation,” Finn muttered, if possible tensing even more. Okay, not a good conversation topic with Finn strung like a live wire.
Ella made one last attempt at grabbing her knives, but her hands felt oddly stiff, her fingers refusing to grip, and she dropped them again. Damn.
They rolled into the HQ underground parking lot and into a slot without any incidents, such as scratching the paint off every single car down there.
“Norma must give one hell of a driving lesson,” Ella mumbled. “Or you have more experience with driving that you let on.”
“Military transport,” Finn said as he came around to help her.
In Aelfheim. She kept forgetting the elves had technology now.
“Keep talking to me,” Finn said.
Okay, was he joking? When did she ever shut up? “Your military vehicles work like our cars? Not with magic?”
“Common Aelfar don’t have strong magic. Only Boreals do.”
Boreals. The elite Finn belonged to — or had, until he’d been disinherited due to his complete lack of magic. Only, as it’d turned out, he was the most magical being anywhere — the one able to open Gates between worlds.
John Grey.
Damn.
“Ella.” He bent over her, tugged on her arm. “Come.”
Her body felt heavy and uncoordinated. She tried to move and frowned when she couldn’t. “What’s happening to me?”
“Faen.” He hauled her bodily out and hefted her in his arms. “It’s the blood.”
The blood? The creatures’ blood? Ella’s brain roiled as if she were drunk. “My knives,” she slurred.
Finn’s arms tightened around her, flexing under her knees and back. They were moving, the concrete walls and parked cars streaking by way too fast. Was Finn running?
Dizziness hit her. Oh god, she’d barf all over him if she kept looking. Just great. She closed her eyes, then snapped them open again when she was jolted.
Stairs. Finn was hurrying up the narrow steps of the emergency exit. Then he turned into a dimly lit passage, shoved into a double door with his shoulder, and stopped.
Ella tried to turn her head to see where they were but her head was a ball of lead, resting on Finn’s shoulder.
“May I help you?” a woman’s voice said.
“Paranormal Bureau,” Finn rumbled. “She’s been poisoned. It’s a chemical that paralyzes.”
Wait, what? Panic sent Ella’s heart into overdrive. She tried to move but couldn’t. Holy shit.
“Come this way,” the woman said and Finn started moving again.
“Finn?” She hated the way her voice sounded so small.
“You’ll be okay,” he whispered, clutching her close. “It’s not lethal. I just don’t know how it affects humans.”
Oh right. Nothing to worry about, then. Ella groaned.
“Are you breathing okay?” Finn was passing through doors and hurrying down corridors that seemed to go on forever.
Now he mentioned it, she did have some trouble drawing breath. Fuck. Panicking more wouldn’t help. Oh god, oh god. “Maybe if you didn’t squeeze me so much...” she wheezed.
Finn grunted but didn’t relax his hold and she was glad.
Dammit all to hell, she’d been poisoned.
She closed her eyes, inhaled Finn’s familiar spicy scent and struggled to suck air into her lungs.
A doctor in green scrubs came into view. “I was told a paralytic agent was administered?” he asked. “What kind?”
“I don’t know,” Finn snapped. “Just make sure she keeps breathing. It should wear off on its own after a while.”
The doctor harrumphed and puttered at a nightstand as Finn laid her down on a bed.
“Don’t go,” she blurted and to hell with pride. “Please.”
He sat beside her on the cot and placed a hand on her forehead, stroking back her hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
***
This poison was an odd thing, Ella thought. At times her blood burned under her skin, and at times she was so cold her teeth chattered. Her arms had first degree burns but hadn’t blistered, thank god. And she still couldn’t move, and the oxygen mask itched.
Finn held her hand. She could feel the rough pads of his fingers on her skin, the hard bed under her back, the scratchy blanket they’d thrown over her. She tried to squeeze Finn’s hand but couldn’t.
Panic welled up in her throat again, making her feel faint.
“You’re okay,” Finn murmured. “I’m here.”
She closed her eyes, the pressure on her chest easing. Thank you, she wanted to say but still couldn’t move her lips. The cut hurt like a bitch, but at least it hadn’t needed stitches.
Time crawled by. She heard ringing and then Finn talking — on the phone? Telling someone she was okay, that she’d mixed pills by mistake and was at the hospital. It had to be Dave. Finn said she was asleep.
For someone who grunted more often than talked, he was a convincing liar. She made a mental note of that, put it on her ‘Facts about Finn’ list.
He’d handle this. Finn could take care of himself, maintain Dave at a distance and keep her safe. She trusted him to pull it off. Somehow she’d never felt safer in her life.
Which was probably why she managed to fall asleep for real, in spite of the panic, only to fall into nightmares of threads and spirals and Simon grinning at her, his chest torn open.
She jerked awake and found Finn’s hand on her uninjured shoulder, his face close to her. His eyes glinted, transparent in the white light of the room, his scent all around her.
Her head dropped back on the pillow.
Hey, she could move again. Experimentally she rapped her fingers on the blanket. Success!
Finn bent his head, his hair brushing her throat, his lips marking the corner of her mouth with fire. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, and she realized he hadn’t been as sure as he’d sounded.
Just to test her mobility, she pushed her fingers into his hair and tugged lightly, bringing him back for a real kiss. He sighed against her lips, his eyes closing. His arms came around her and he half-lifted her off the bed in a hug that ground her bones together.
She didn’t mind. At all.
Next time she woke up, though, Finn wasn’t there.
But Sarah was.
Wait, was this one of those weird, stress-panic nightmares? Like the “god-I-missed-the-plane or crap-I-burned-the-house-down sort of thing?
Ella shot the woman a sideways glance, wondering if she could pretend to still be asleep — but those green eyes were fixed on her, a black brow arched.
Nope. Too late.
Ella squirmed on the hard hospital bed that was as wide as a gurney and just about as comfy. Not fair, dammit. This was her bed of pain, and she wanted Finn, not Dave’s little spy by her side.
“What are you doing here?” Ella asked. “If you’ve come to report to Dave, you can go. He’ll hear everything anyway.” One way or another.
“Nice seeing you, too,” Sarah said. Bitch. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a truck hit me, but if you leave, I’m sure I’ll instantly feel much better.” Ella glowered at Sarah but obviously she still hadn’t mastered Finn’s death glare, because Sarah simply leaned back and grinned.
“I told Finn he could go grab a coffee. He hasn’t slept all night and looks like crap warmed over.”
“The whole night?” Was it morning now? Ella frowned. “And he just went?”
“Well.” Sarah’s grin faded. “He’s right outside the door staring at me. He did get a coffee, though. And while he was gone, he had a nurse stay in the room with us.” She stuck out her tongue. “Somehow I think he doesn’t trust me.”
Ella slumped back against the pillow, relieved. Okay. The world hadn’t tilted on its axis.
Ah well, maybe having Sarah there wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Could be a chance to talk far from Dave’s ears. Okay, bully her into talki
ng, more like. As long as Finn stayed out of the room and the discussion, Dave should have trouble listening.
“Tell me about Simon,” Ella said. “What did you find out? How did he get involved?”
“Whoa.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Won’t you ask me first what I want?”
“Did that already. No results. So, my turn.” Well, she had a right to be cranky. She was the one in a hospital bed.
“In fact, Simon is the reason I came to talk to you.”
Huh. “Right. Why?”
“Because you said a sniper is out to get you, and I figured this might be connected.”
“Connected.” Now Ella was repeating words, like Finn did. Maybe he was snickering outside, as he listened in to the conversation. Those pointed ears had super-hearing powers. “What’s it to you if a sniper gets us?” You wanted to shoot Finn. It was on the tip of her tongue but she didn’t say it. She felt proud of herself.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Sarah leaned forward but didn’t move closer to the bed or touch Ella. Finn was probably giving Sarah one of his patented glares.
“Guilty.” Ella grabbed fistfuls of blanket. “Why don’t you explain it to me? Please don’t use long words.”
Sarah made a face. “I don’t want you to die.”
“Oh good. I’m touched. What about Finn?”
“Finn, either.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“Parameters have changed.”
“There you go with the long words.”
“Look, I gave this a lot of thought. I talked to Dave and he’s told me everything you’ve told him, everything he’s seen. And I have to agree with him that keeping Finn alive is our best bet.”
Yeah. Why didn’t Ella believe this sudden change of heart? “Are you sure that’s the reason?”
“What other reason could I have?”
Ah, another zillion dollar question. If Ella knew the answer, she’d be in a school for geniuses, not an agent of the Paranormal Bureau.
“So. About Simon.” Ella released the mistreated blanket, smoothed it flat. “What’s he got to do with the sniper?”
“Simon,” Sarah said, threading her fingers together, “was an undercover agent with the FBI. And he wasn’t working alone.”
Chapter Five
Lies
FBI. Simon.
Incredible, and yet... It explained why Simon should be mixed up in something as big as the Gates before anyone else had taken notice. Those notes she’d found — had they really been for her?
Doubt, doubt.
Simon had been suspicious about Dave, but also about her. Had he been investigating them both? Was that why he’d transferred there?
Perhaps their friendship and everything else had been part of his cover; part of an operation to gain her trust. Hell, she’d slept with him, had spent all her time with him — and he’d been like a son to Dave.
Had Dave known? Sarah insisted he hadn’t, but why should Ella trust her, either?
Back to square one: don’t trust anyone.
Dave had paid her a visit, said he was concerned about the things Finn told him — that she was taking pills. He asked what drugs she was taking for such a mix-up.
At least she’d expected the question, had pondered what to say. She settled on sleeping pills and anti-depressants prescribed her by a psychologist she used to see before moving to the city. Dave said the doctors seemed baffled, and Ella had to agree it was puzzling and maybe she needed rest.
He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he did give her and Finn two days off. Said Sarah had told him about the connection between Simon and the FBI and he was looking into it. Told her to lie low and asked how Finn was.
“I’m fine,” Finn said from the doorway, startling her so badly she almost fell off the bed. She hadn’t heard him come in.
It was of course a Finn-code ‘fine’ — meaning basically, ‘I’m still breathing, if barely, so piss off’.” There was a grayish cast to his skin, making the dark bags under his eyes looked like bruises. He was leaning rather heavily against the doorjamb.
“I think we’ll go to my mom’s beach house,” Ella found herself saying, not quite sure when she’d made up her mind. “It’s just an hour out of town.”
Finn’s brows arched.
“Not sure it’s a good idea.” Dave frowned. “You’ll be exposed and without protection.”
“How can you protect us here?” Ella wanted to know. “The sniper hacked into the network — did you find out how, by the way?”
“Right.” Dave dragged his fingers through his hair. “That was what I wanted to talk to you about. It seems like it was an inside job.”
“Inside the phone company?” Ella wished her shoulder didn’t burn like fire and that her head didn’t pound so hard. It muddled her thoughts.
“Inside the Bureau.” Dave grimaced. “You know, we have this intel thanks to Sarah. She’s the one who made the FBI connection and it led to more clues.”
“Do you trust her?” Ella asked. Because, quite frankly, it sounded too good to be true. Sarah, hunting down the sniper? Her friendliness was suspicious, but this...
What did she have to gain?
“I double check sources, even when it’s my own step-daughter giving me the intel.” Dave looked mildly offended. “Simon’s name was an alias.”
“So what’s his real name?”
“Jeremy Cornelli. Italian family. Thirty-five years old. Went to college at—”
“Thirty-five?” Ella bristled. “He told me he was twenty-six.” That’s it, get pissed over the small stuff. Much easier than crumpling under the weight of the big lies.
“After college he went off grid for a few years, resurfaced and joined us. Then—”
Ella lifted a hand. “Dave.” She swallowed. “How did Sarah find out all this?”
“She found some emails on Simon’s computer and she dug deeper.”
Simon had been so careless? Unlikely. “All this smells fishy to me.”
“I trust Sarah, all right? She has no reason to keep anything from me. We both want the same: to keep the Gates closed.”
Yeah, but that wasn’t enough.
What were the odds Simon had hooked up with Dave’s step-daughter only a month before he died? Just how long had they been together? Had Sarah known who Simon worked for since then?
Worse yet: did she work for the FBI, too, or maybe some other agency? The attacks on their lives had begun since Sarah had found out who Finn really was. Maybe the FBI didn’t trust Finn was on their side — hell, Dave barely did.
Had Sarah been sent to take Ella and Finn out of the picture? Was she the sniper — or the mastermind behind it all?
Because that would be an inside job alright.
***
Finn was quiet during their mid-morning drive out of town. He kept dozing off as the highway curved to the north. He cursed the third time it happened and grabbed the thermos filled with coffee he’d packed to go.
“What? You can sleep.” Ella was looking out for the signs toward Black Rock Bay. “You’re like a vampire; you barely sleep at night anymore.”
He scowled at the thermos, then poured himself a cup of black, steaming coffee. “You just came out of the hospital. I should drive.”
“Uh-uh. No way. Not until you learn when to stop at the traffic lights. And I feel just fine.” The wound on her shoulder ached, but not too bad. Thank god for painkillers. “Whatever this poison did it’s over now. So why don’t you drink your coffee and enjoy the ride.”
He needed a vacation even more than she did, although no matter how far they ran, nightmares would surely follow. But who knew if the change in scenery and the quiet might help, and besides — no guns, no sniper, hopefully, and if the Shades showed up again, at least they would be far from other people.
If the Veil worked like the Gates, then it mostly tore in Finn’s vicinity. Which was still a hypothesis, yet a plausible one, given the Shades seem
ed determined to get Finn and drag him through the Veil to the other side — to Aelfheim, or so Finn thought.
The house was built high up on the dunes of the golden beach where black rock created filigree patterns into the bay. The building itself wasn’t big — it only had one bedroom and one bathroom, but the view from the French Windows of the living room was priceless.
She parked in the paved garage behind the house. The wind whistled and clouds churned overhead as Finn grabbed their bag and Kevlar jackets and carried them up the creaking porch. The waves crashed against the sand below as she unlocked the door and they stepped inside. Looked like a storm was brewing, and wasn’t that lovely?
Not in a good way.
Still, the house was built to withstand storms and she led the way into the cozy hall with the fireplace and the low, cream sofas. Wood was stacked in the corner and Finn placed the Kevlars and the duffel bag down, the iron charms against the Shades jingling inside. She didn’t know why she still had any faith in them, but hey, it didn’t hurt anyone.
He knelt to start a fire, grabbing a lighter from a recess in the wall and piling tinder inside the fireplace. He added logs, moving them until they formed a kind of pyramid.
Ella blinked as flames jumped and smoke swirled up the chimney. She’d never seen a fire catch so fast. She stood in the middle of the room, gawking.
Finn wiped his hands on his pants and got up, staring into the flames, his hair catching the reddish hues. The fire burned merrily now, the logs crackling, giving out a nice warmth, chasing the chill away.
“Wow,” she whispered and shook herself. “Wanna see the rest of the house?” When he nodded and grabbed the duffel, she took his hand and pulled him into the bedroom.
He dropped the bag on the double bed, shrugged off his jacket and turned to look out of the small window at the iron-grey sky.
Ella hugged him from behind, leaning her head between his shoulder blades, listening to his heart. “Do you like the place?”
Boreal and John Grey Season 2 Page 12
