Sarah stood behind the armchair, her green eyes wide. “Okay, now, what happened? What was that?”
Hell if Ella knew. She wanted Sarah to go away so she could work this out, ask Finn, or maybe just hit her head repeatedly on the table — the odds of getting an answer were even.
“You said something about threads,” Sarah pressed, her hands gripping the back of the armchair. “And Finn told you not to pull.”
“Yeah.” Ella licked her dry lips. “No idea what he meant.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “The room shook. The screeching almost burst my eardrums. You got a nosebleed. Finn wept blood. Cut the crap, okay?”
“I don’t know what the hell happened,” Ella snapped. She wasn’t lying, either. She wiped blood from her mouth. “Thanks for the visit. I’m sure you can find your way out.”
Sarah sighed and shook her head. “Okay, let’s try this again. I’m going to help you clean up, we’re going to have something to drink, and we’ll talk about this.”
Oh sure. “Knock yourself out,” Ella muttered, too tired to care.
“Just a second.” Sarah stepped out into the corridor, and Ella heard the water running in the bathroom. Sarah returned with a wet cloth. “Here. Clean yourself up.”
Ella accepted it without a word, wiping her nose and mouth, then passed it to Finn. Damn, Sarah was right. A bloody tear had rolled down his cheek. A broken capillary formed a crimson fleck in his eye.
God, she felt groggy and her head spun. Was this how Finn felt most of the time? It was a wonder he could stand, let alone do everything he did.
Sarah rattled things in the kitchen, and Ella didn’t have the energy to go, grab her and throw her out. What was she doing?
By the time Finn had cleaned up and folded the stained cloth, placing it on the coffee table — Jesus, how could he be so tidy at a time like this? — Sarah was back with fresh coffee and tea. She replaced the mugs in front of them and Ella wrapped her icy fingers around hers.
“Thanks,” she muttered as Sarah puttered around the living-room. “What are you doing?”
“A few things fell.”
Ella shook her head, then decided it wasn’t such a good idea as the pain behind her eyes spiked. “Things?”
“Books from the shelves. A rug that was draped on the back of the sofa. Told you the room shook.” She went on straightening the apartment, each thud and screech echoing in Ella’s skull.
“Leave it.” Ella really wanted to curl up and close her eyes until the damn headache faded. She was trying to decide if this was just another nightmare, when a sudden spotlight fell on Finn.
Golden light, spilling across the apartment, making the coffee table glow, the steel sugar container glint.
“There you go,” Sarah said. “Light. It’ll help us figure this out. I hate sitting in the dark.”
It was sunlight. Sarah had drawn back the curtains.
Time slowed.
Don’t panic, Ella told herself. The sniper hasn’t made an appearance recently, and besides, he seems to prefer rooftops and open spaces — still... Finn sat in the pure light, his hair a silver helmet, his skin like glass.
No Kevlar. No protection.
Right in the sights of anyone outside.
Relax. Nothing’s going to happen.
Then why was her heart hammering like that? Something was off. She thought she could still see the golden threads out of the corner of her eye, vibrating. She thought she heard whispers.
Oh, to hell with it.
Ella slid into a half-crouch and took the mug out of Finn’s hands. Before his questioning look turned into a glare, she grabbed his hands and tugged.
“Down, Finn,” she snapped. “Right now.”
It took him a long moment to obey, dropping to the floor next to her, and by that time Sarah had walked around the sofa and stood in front of them.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
Ella only had time to shout, “Down, Sarah,” before the glass broke with a crash and Sarah collapsed with a cry.
Chapter Six
Turbulence
Ella put pressure on the gunshot wound on Sarah’s side, her mind blank with shock. Dave talked to her on the phone. His men would be scouring the buildings across the street and she should lie low until he got there.
The ambulance arrived after what seemed like hours but couldn’t have been long. Dave walked inside followed by the paramedics, his face dark with anger.
Yeah, Duergar could do furious quite well, it seemed.
“We cleared the buildings across the street,” he said without preamble as the paramedics took over from Ella and lifted Sarah onto a gurney. “Whoever it was, they’re gone now.”
Big surprise.
A paramedic wandered up to them, twisting his hands together. “Are you family?” When Dave nodded, he looked relieved. “She’ll be fine. It’s just a graze — it’s deep but hasn’t harmed any organs.”
“I’ll follow the ambulance,” Dave said, his face going blank, and watched them leave. He turned to Ella. “What the hell happened?”
Ella walked backward until she bumped into the armchair and sank down. “That was your step-daughter. She opened the curtains. Sniper got a shot in.”
Finn sat on the sofa. Fresh blood trickled from one nostril.
“I’m not talking about the fucking sniper.” Dave jabbed a finger at her. “I’m talking about the quake in the Veil.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” Damn headache. Her skull was going to split any moment now.
“Don’t play with me, Ella.” Dave’s gaze darkened. “You know I can feel any change in the Veil.”
“In your machinery,” Ella whispered. Like Finn felt it in his head, as well as in his mark and his bad leg.
Finn was watching them intently, his eyes narrowed. What was on his mind now?
“What was the tremor?” Dave returned Finn’s stare. “Did the power come from behind the Veil?”
Finn’s lips pulled back, baring his teeth. “You tell us.”
“Damn if I know. There was a wrench.” Dave rubbed his chest. “A heave, as if the world lurched sideways. Not so much parting the threads as... undoing the weave.”
Ella shivered. “What could cause that?”
Dave shook his head.
God, she was too tired to handle this. Time to pop some painkillers and try to shut down for a while. “Well then, better go make sure your stepdaughter is okay.”
“No need to look so pleased,” Dave bit out. “Sarah was trying to help you.”
“I’m not pleased.” Ella frowned. Was she? “Sarah will be fine.”
There was a disconnect with her emotions. She wasn’t furious at Sarah for putting Finn’s life at such risk, as she ought to be, or confused — since she’d been pretty sure so far Sarah had been the one behind the shootings. Or afraid of whatever had happened. She only remembered the golden thread catching on her finger, and the wrench that went through her, and the world. How? Why?
No answer.
Instead, she felt cold and numb, her limbs heavy, which was unpleasant but not enough to make her move.
Dave stared at her, and she just didn’t give a flying fuck. “You knew she was here. You listened in to every conversation we’ve had. Did you send her to spy on us?”
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” Dave shoved his hands into his pant pockets. “Told you already. I’m not spying on you.”
Was he telling the truth? “What about Jeff? Have you found out anything about him?”
“He’s clean,” Dave said, turning to go. “His history checks out. Drop the paranoia, Ella. We’re not the enemy.”
Yeah. Easy to say with stories of vengeance and payback echoing in her head, and with everyone after the key to the Gates.
***
“What the hell,” Ella whispered as soon as Dave left, vaguely aware that Finn had put his arms around her, his warmth seeping into her skin, his scent into her sen
ses. “What was that?”
“The pattern changed,” he breathed into her ear, his lips soft on her neck. “Turbulence.”
Jesus. “And you fixed it?”
“I tried.”
Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good. “Yes or no?”
He shook his head, his silky hair tickling her jaw. “I pulled the threads together, fixed the rip,” he whispered. “Don’t worry.”
She nodded, swallowing convulsively, and threaded her fingers through the fine silver strands. “It’s you I’m worried about.” She could still see in her memory the tear of blood crawling down his cheek.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” she said. “I’m not helping you. God knows I’ve tried to find a way, but it’s not working out.
“I’m just tired.”
Just tired? she wanted to shout. He was exhausted, worn thin and drained. Fear clogged her throat. “You have to get stronger. I have to find a way to help you. How, dammit?”
“You’re helping me,” Finn said faintly. His hand moved up and down her back, stroking her spine. “It’s okay.”
Not enough. Dave had said that Finn might not survive another seal breaking in the Veil. The thought turned her blood into ice. God, she still hadn’t found a way past his memory’s walls. She was such a failure at this stabilizing thing. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’ll find a way.”
Always trusting her. But maybe he was wrong. “What if I can’t? What if I’m only making things worse?”
“Not possible.”
Wasn’t it?
Curled up on the sofa with Finn wrapped around her, she closed her eyes. Time passed, marked by Finn’s heartbeat, his warm breath on her neck. Ella drew breath after breath and tried to think of a solution.
But all she found was dreams.
***
The familiar frozen plain stretched in front of Ella. She was wrapped in a parka, its red color standing out against the white like a blood spill. Good thing only Finn could see her. Good thing she only existed to Finn.
Finn, who knelt in the snow with the gun in his hands, symbols flashing on its surface, his breathing ragged as if he’d run for miles. Facing the pile of corpses.
She knelt next to him, the cold seeping through her leggings. “Do you know them?”
Finn’s head dipped. His shoulders shook.
She wrapped an arm around him, shivering at the contact. It wasn’t often she got to touch him in his dream world.
As always, it caught his attention and he turned to her, as if seeing her for the first time. “Ella.”
“Who are these people?” She nodded at the frozen bodies, their white, fine faces and wide eyes reminding her of something she couldn’t pinpoint. “Did you know them?”
“Soldiers,” he whispered.
“Did they fight with you?”
“In my legion.”
His friends. His comrades.
“How did they die?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Where are you coming from, Finn? What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dammit, Finn, what about the cave? What about the Aesir?”
“The cave?” Finn groaned, the gun clattering from his hands, rolling in the snow.
There had been a cave, hadn’t there? And a stone table, and Finn hung over it... so why was he here, with these wide-eyed corpses, holding a gun?
“Something’s fishy...” She took in the valley, the mountains rising on either side, the grim tower facing them. For a dizzying moment, it was as if the perspective was all wrong. The tower should be facing toward the gorge, not them, and weren’t the corpses laid out in rows before? “What the hell.”
Memories, she thought. Filtered through Finn’s mind. The landscape didn’t have to follow any rules, not here.
“Was there a battle? Is that how they died?” she asked, her voice tiny in the emptiness of space. “Are you hurt?”
Finn knelt, still and pale like a marble statue, saying nothing. He looked unharmed. Blood would have shown on his muted grey garments, wouldn’t it?
“Was the battle nearby?” She squinted against the glare of the snow. There would be remains, right? Fallen weapons, blood and churned mud. “Was it today?”
“There was no battle,” Finn rasped.
“Then what happened? Try to remember.” She put a hand on his cheek. “Who killed them?”
“I can’t...” He swallowed hard. “I was sent here.”
“By whom? Why?”
“Please, Ella.” He fell against her and she tucked his head under her chin.
She threaded her fingers through his hair. “What is it?”
“Hide the gun.”
Jesus Christ. That didn’t sound good at all.
***
“So this is an elven external hard drive, sort of thing?” Scott muttered.
The tube lay on the coffee table, exuding an evil aura. Finn sat next to Ella on the sofa, staring at it. His face was haggard, his skin greyish. The crimson stain in his eye was the only color.
Ella rubbed her aching forehead. “Yeah. Sort of.” Her mind was stuck on the dreams, and Finn’s request to hide the gun, the dead staring at them with accusing eyes. Why had he asked her that? Did it mean anything at all? His memories were like a minefield.
“It’s dead,” Finn said.
And by the way, what an odd thing to say.
“Good. It won’t bite my fingers off, then,” Ella said and lifted the silver tube. It was heavy and cold, the carvings rough under her fingers. “Come on, tube, talk to me. Or should I read you your Miranda rights first?”
“You have the right to remain silent but that would be suspicious,” Mike said with a wink.
“Keep your peace and I’ll keep mine,” Scott drawled.
Finn reached out for the tube without a word, his jaw clenched, and Ella frowned. As always, they tried not to say anything that would give away to anyone listening — Dave, let’s just say — what exactly was going on. Had they let something slip?
But Finn only took the tube in both hands, running his fingers over the markings, his brows drawn together. He pressed and slid his hands, seemingly randomly over the carvings, and Ella could see Mike’s eyes gleaming, his mouth opening to deliver some wisecrack remark—
—the metal melted under Finn’s hands, slipping off the core of the gadget like skin, revealing a black rod.
“Fucking hell,” Scott hissed. “Look at that—”
Mike clapped a hand over Scott’s mouth. “Cool,” he said evenly. “And next?”
Finn’s frown darkened. “I’ve never used one of these.”
“Great.” Mike rolled his eyes.
“Mike, shut it,” Ella said absently. “Go play with your boyfriend.”
“I would but he says it makes him feel like a sex object,” Mike muttered.
Scott pushed him off and stuck his tongue out.
Such children. Sheesh.
The metal skin of the tube hadn’t come off completely — it lay in folds around the black, matte core of the gadget, ready to enfold the core again, Ella assumed. Cool stuff, but the core bore no markings at all. How the hell was it supposed to be used?
But Finn seemed to know. He pressed his thumb into an indentation and a wince flickered over his face. White patterns flashed on the black device. When he lifted his hand, a drop of blood glimmered on the tip.
“Blood sample?” Ella whispered.
“Fuel,” Finn said.
“What, you’re feeding that thing your blood?” Scott grimaced. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“It will function for a few moments,” Finn said and placed his fingers along the black rod, closing his eyes.
“A vampire thingamajig.” Mike’s eyes were wide. “Now I’ve seen it all.”
Ella shushed him and frowned. Have you? She had a feeling they were about to see shitloads of jaw-dropping things in the days to come and didn�
�t know if she felt more excited or terrified as she thought back at the way she’d shifted the threads, affected Dave and caused tears of blood to run from Finn’s eyes.
She hadn’t had the chance to ask Finn more about it, and about his last dream-memory. He’d been gone from bed when she’d woken up and seemed to be avoiding her, withdrawn and quiet, keeping to himself.
But maybe he was just tired. Or wary of Dave listening in.
With Finn, it was hard to tell.
Seconds ticked by. Finn’s lids fluttered. Ella exchanged a look with Scott and Mike. She was dying to ask what was going on but didn’t dare interrupt whatever Finn was doing. Lights played over his hand — reflections of symbols flickering on the surface of the marble-like dark gadget.
Another wince flashed over Finn’s face, and that was the last drop. Ella scooted closer and gripped his wrist.
“Finn, hey. Maybe you should stop.”
He was panting now, sweat gleaming on his face. Looked like the vampire gizmo was resisting, or else sucking more of Finn’s energy. It did look like it, the color draining from his face, until Ella prepared to wrench the damn thing out of his hand.
A pop sounded and a tiny cylindrical object burst out of the black gadget and rolled on the floor.
Okay, what was this, a babushka doll, gadget nested inside gadget? She bent to lift the cylinder and Finn put out a hand to stop her.
“Let me help you, dammit.” She shoved off his hand, gently but firmly.
“Ella, no.”
Another pop and the cylinder exploded. Or imploded? She jerked backward against the cushions as tiny silver shards rose, circling in the air, floating.
“Fucking fairy dust,” Mike muttered, and Scott raised an amused brow at him.
It did look like fairy dust: the shards swarmed together, a glittering moth cloud that began to solidify. She longed to touch it, feel it.
But it flowed like liquid glass and dripped into Finn’s upturned hand, forming a translucent pebble.
Ella could only stare, flabbergasted. “That’s just to retrieve information?”
“That’s overkill,” Mike declared, though his eyes were shining.
Boreal and John Grey Season 2 Page 21
