Boreal and John Grey Season 2

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  Ella squirmed backward. Magic was spilling out of him. It was as if remembering something, even just part of the lost memory, was making him stronger.

  His eyes were somber as he raised himself on an elbow to look down at her. Light played on his skin, on his tousled hair, a glowing nimbus, and he was so beautiful she had to catch her breath.

  Dave had been right.

  She placed her hand on his chest, over the ratty sweater that was splashed with blood, and considered this with reluctance.

  Hurting his back, hanging between her and Dave — that had slammed Finn back into a flashback. And now he remembered more.

  But she didn’t want to believe it. Because then she’d also have to believe that recreating the memory would help Finn remember everything, allow her access back into his dreams and turn him into the tool Dave wanted.

  The glow was diminishing and she looked up into his face. “What does this mean? How strong are you now? Can you... open Gates on purpose, or...?”

  He shook his head.

  Right. Of course not. It was a first tiny breakthrough. She shouldn’t expect miracles.

  She didn’t know if to be glad or sorry.

  Finn licked his lips and it was damn distracting. Then he pushed a hand through his chin-length hair and a grimace drew his features tight.

  Why?

  Oh, shit. “Let me see your back.”

  Finn gave a sheepish look. “I’m fine.”

  “Like hell you are.” She sat up. “Turn around.”

  He shifted, giving her his broad back, and she lifted the stained fabric. She pushed the hem of the sweater and t-shirt up, revealing the old, silvery scars he had there. She couldn’t reach the bandages, although she could tell some had come off.

  She tugged on the sweater. “Off.” She helped him remove it and threw it to the floor. It was going straight to the trash. Man, she had to get Finn some new clothes.

  He lay back down, on his side, and she stared at the padded shoulders and strong arms, the wide flare of his ribs narrowing down to his slim hips. Straining muscles covered in satin skin that still glowed faintly.

  Resisted the urge to fan herself. Woo. Looking at Finn’s body never got old.

  She brushed the soft pale hair off his nape and it slid like water through her fingers. The bandage on his shoulder where he’d dug out the transmitter looked clean. He smelled of sweetness and male musk, laced with the metallic tang of blood.

  The wounds from the Kyr’s crest were a spattering of cuts on his shoulder blades and upper back. Half the bandages had been ripped off and she checked the wounded flesh underneath. It looked healthy, on its way to mending. Her fingertips ghosted over the remaining bandages. She should take them off, replace them with fresh ones.

  Finn let out a breathless groan and she stilled. Was she hurting him? She trailed her fingers down to the scars, and Finn’s whole body shivered.

  Okay, what was with that? “Finn?”

  He sucked a sharp breath when she touched the scars at the base of his spine. “Don’t stop,” he pushed out between gritted teeth.

  Ella frowned. She could recall the rows of blades jutting out of Finn’s back like a glittering double ridge. She stroked the scar and Finn shifted, his back tensing, muscles bunching. On a whim, she bent and kissed the scar. His skin was salty and faintly sweet, and hot like fire.

  A hand gripping the back of the sofa, Finn arched his spine, his hair spilling like quicksilver. His breath caught on a moan.

  “You liked that,” she whispered, lifting her head, wondering what it meant. Nerve endings, Dave had said. Sensitive, obviously.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw the threads flash, and she raised her head. The threads glowed and pulsed — filaments of different colors, different thickness; different textures.

  The air left her lungs.

  A textile. A gossamer snare. The lattice, the grid of the world.

  So many hues and so many patterns woven around her — and Finn’s golden threads vibrating, spanning space from side to side. She touched them gently.

  The air rippled, a slow explosion swelling outward, the threads quivering and shooting stars of brilliance.

  Whoa.

  Finn shuddered. He reached back and caught her fingers, dragged her hand over his ribs, placed it over his heart. It thumped, racing as if he’d been running.

  “What’s this?” she rasped, scooting up until her cheek rested on his shoulder blade. “What’s happening?”

  “You’re doing this,” he said.

  “To the threads?”

  “And to me.”

  Speechless she watched as the golden threads parted, darker strings appearing, running down space like pillars. “How? What’s different this time?”

  He turned his head, a half smile on his lips, and rolled until he lay on his back. “You’re different. Stronger. And I feel you...” He touched two fingers to his chest. “Right here.”

  Her eyes stung. When he opened his arms, she crawled up his body to curl at his side. He lay there, his chest made of hard planes and faint hollows where shadows pooled. Her hand smoothed over the raised scar down the middle, the marks where a Shade had clawed him under the ribs, the round shape where Dave’s bullet had entered and the clean surgical cut above.

  Meanwhile the threads thrummed, a deep sound she felt all the way to her bones.

  “Can you see them now?” His eyes were heavy-lidded, blue glittering between his thick lashes.

  She swallowed hard. The dark threads called to her, the song bringing back a rush of memories — her parents’ garden, a spiral slowly spinning around her, lifting dirt and stones, knocking the birds off their course. This was her power, her song.

  She lifted a hand and touched the dark threads. A wind was rising inside the room, pushing back her hair.

  “Softly,” Finn whispered, and she resisted the urge to push and pull, stroking the threads just like she’d stroked his scars.

  The coffee table tilted sideways, sending books and a mug crashing.

  She lowered her hand, her heart banging. “Shit. I’ll tear this place apart.”

  “Fridha,” he whispered, his voice rumbling in his chest, and when she glanced his way, she saw his smile brighten. “I always trust you.”

  It made her warm all over that he would. But maybe he shouldn’t. Because she’d do just about anything to keep him alive.

  Chapter Four

  Only

  Ella opened the fridge and stared at the empty trays. She blinked. Time to go shopping, maybe?

  Morning light spilled through the small kitchen window. She opened the cupboards and blinked again. A bag of pistachios — had she bought that? — and a dusty bottle of barbecue sauce. Hm. Pistachios and sauce. A new recipe.

  Or not.

  Giving up, she turned and leaned against the counter. The relentlessness of the attacks and the lack of proper, deep sleep were taking a toll. She couldn’t remember what normal life felt like.

  And she had to talk to Dave — about the threads, about the song. About everything. Finn trusted her to fix this mess. She had her theories. The sagas said pain unleashed John Grey’s power — but the Stabilizer was important. They never said in what way. Giving stability, right. Support.

  And pleasure? Giving pleasure to places that had been wracked with pain before? Overlaying bad memories with good ones?

  Or was it a coincidence she’d seen the threads and their colors — and heard their song — in that moment? It was possible. After all, it was right after Finn had flexed some magical muscle.

  Ella shook her head and sighed. Or maybe it had been the pleasure. ‘Porn solution to the elven invasion. Afflicted elven prince cured through sex.’

  She snorted. Yeah, Ella, real funny.

  A crash from another room made her flinch. What the hell? She grabbed a bread knife and shot out of the kitchen, her socked feet slipping on the cold tiles. Catching herself on the door frame to the bedroom, she scanned
space for lights, threads, Gates and Shades.

  Nothing.

  “Finn?” She cocked her head, hoping for an answer.

  Silence.

  She pushed off and stumbled into the bedroom, eyes narrowing to adjust to the dimness. A rustle and she stalked around the bed, the knife raised.

  And stopped.

  Finn was on the floor, leaning on the bed frame, his hands clasped around his bad knee, his teeth gritting. Beads of sweat had sprung up on his forehead. As her muscles unclenched and she lowered the knife, she realized he was white as paper.

  “What happened?”

  He shook his head and she leaned over to help him up. He grimaced and hopped, keeping his weight off his bad leg.

  “You fell, didn’t you?” He didn’t even need to answer. She knew. His knee must have buckled when he’d stood up.

  Darla would be seeing them soon. Maybe she could tell them if there was a way to remove the tracker from his leg.

  And the doorbell rang. Perfect timing, as usual.

  Finn had his arm draped over her shoulders, a look of concentration on his face as he hobbled by her side through the corridor to the living room. Depositing him on the sofa, she went to check through the peephole.

  She cracked the door open. “Mike.”

  “Bodyguard reporting in.” He grinned and marched inside, followed by Scott and — Lily?

  Ella stared stupidly at the gym instructor. How had she forgotten Mike frequented the Hot Bodies Gym as well? And, more to the point, what was Lily doing there?

  “Um, Mike...” Ella followed the trio into the room. “What’s going on?”

  Scott took a seat in the armchair and leaned back, stretching his long frame. He brushed back his blond fringe and exchanged an undecipherable look with Mike who went to stand behind him.

  “Well, you said you needed someone to keep an eye on Finn,” Mike said. “She’s got a black belt in karate.”

  Keep an eye, sure, but not that kind of eye. Lily was eyeing Finn as if he was a Christmas gift with her name on it. “Mike...”

  “I’d be happy to help. With anything Finn needs.” Lily slunk up to Finn’s seated form and — holy shit, what was she wearing? Wasn’t she cold in those tight, tiny shorts and knee-length boots? Not to mention the minuscule black sweater with a cleavage that almost reached her navel?

  Ella normally didn’t think much about her own body, but now she felt woefully inadequate. She reached up, adjusting her sports bra and pushing out her chest.

  Then Lily tossed her long blond mane and leaned over Finn who pressed back against the cushions, his eyes comically wide.

  Jesus.

  “Mike,” Ella hissed. “We have to talk. Now.”

  Mike sighed and followed her into the kitchen. “What is it?”

  “What were you thinking?” Ella leaned against the counter and suppressed a sigh. “I asked for your help because you know what’s happening, and I trust you. I barely know her, and she’s not a voyant. How are you going to explain the Shades to her? Won’t she freak out and run?”

  “Have a little faith in me, girl.” Mike made a face. “Her cousin’s a voyant, so she’s seen weird stuff before. And, well, she offered to do this. As a matter of fact, she’s been pestering me all week to bring her over for a visit.”

  “You caved in too easily.”

  “You wouldn’t have said that if you had been there.” He sighed again. “Look, I’m sorry. If you think it’s a bad idea...”

  Hell yeah, that was exactly what she thought. She glanced through the door to the living room. Lily was practically in Finn’s lap and his eyes had narrowed. Uh-oh.

  “She said she and Finn were friends,” Mike said.

  “Yeah, as if. He only ever met her once. I doubt he remembers her.”

  Mike grinned suddenly. “Hey, are you jealous or something?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Wanting to rip Lily to shreds was a perfectly normal reaction.

  Mike snickered out loud. “You are. Admit it.”

  “Nothing to be jealous of.” She straightened, tugged the hem of her sweater down. “And stop laughing.”

  Lily said something and Finn pushed her off. Before Ella could move, Lily had landed in a heap on the floor. Her eyes were so huge in her small face she looked like a Japanese anime character.

  “Shit.” Ella hurried out into the living room. Not many people were allowed into Finn’s personal space, but Lily didn’t know that.

  Correction: she knew that now.

  Finn got up, keeping a death grip on the back of the sofa, glaring daggers at Lily who seemed to be in shock, her mouth opening and closing without a sound. Glad their weapons were in the bedroom and therefore out of Finn’s reach, Ella stepped between them.

  “Listen, Lily.” Ella tried to think of a polite way to put this. “Thanks for coming over and offering to help, but I think we’ve got this under control.”

  There. That was polite, wasn’t it?

  Lily put her feet under her, a flush on her cheeks. Her eyes filled up. “Fine, be that way. I’ll be on my way, then.”

  Lily stomped to the door, threw it open and left. The door slammed.

  There went their ninja protector.

  Politeness was hugely overrated.

  “Wow.” Scott cast Mike a puzzled look. “What just happened?”

  Mike shrugged. “Man, I’ve never seen such fangirl love before. Girl’s head over heels for Finn here.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sorry, Finn. My bad, I shouldn’t have let her come.”

  Ella took a step back, her ears buzzing. Something was off. The room was spinning. Was the Veil parting? Why was darkness oozing from the edges of her vision, making black dots dance?

  “Whoa.” Scott was there, grabbing her arm, seating her down on a chair. “Easy.”

  She wanted to tell him she was fine but her mouth refused to work and the black dots swirled lazily around her, distracting her.

  Then Finn moved, catching her attention. He started toward her, a frown on his face. He seemed to be muttering something but her ears still buzzed and she couldn’t hear.

  Time slowed. Finn took a step, then started going down, his knee folding. He was falling and Ella couldn’t move to catch him, and dammit this day had barely started and was already going haywire.

  Mike moved in smoothly, grabbing Finn and pulling him back onto the sofa. Finn struggled, wrenching his arm free, but Mike gripped his shoulder, talking into his ear, and Finn stilled. He slumped back against the cushions.

  Adrenaline was clearing Ella’s head and she leaned forward. Get up.

  “Stay put.” Scott put a heavy hand on her arm, holding her easily down.

  “Are you okay?” Mike was asking Finn. “Is your leg acting up?”

  Finn said something Ella didn’t catch but had Mike scowling.

  “You hit it against the bed frame. Why?” Mike said, his voice hard and dipped his head closer, listening. “You were dizzy? Why were you dizzy?”

  Ella swallowed hard. Her stomach felt heavy like a stone. Finn had been dizzy?

  “You two look like roadkill,” Mike said pleasantly as he got up. “Days-old roadkill, to be precise. You’re covered in filth and don’t have more flesh on your bones than the starving kids in Africa. The dragonets look healthier than you.”

  “You’ve fed them?” Ella glared up at Scott until he dropped his hand — aha! Look, she could pull off a Finn death glare on occasion — and turned back to Mike. “Did everything go okay? Did you drop the meat into the hole in the deck as I told you on the phone?”

  “Yes. And you....” Mike jabbed a finger at her, then shook his head and sighed. “God. I’ll go make some breakfast.”

  Ella winced. “There’s nothing in the kitchen. I checked.”

  Mike bit his lip and ran a hand over the gelled spikes of his dark hair. “Shit, Ella, are you two on a starvation diet? When did you last eat?”

  She scrunched up her face trying to remembe
r and apparently that was the wrong reaction.

  “You don’t know?” Mike nearly shouted. “Okay, this is it. I’m going shopping for you. What use is it fearing the Shades if you’re starving yourselves? And how are you planning on fighting them when you can barely stand, huh?”

  “Mike,” Scott said, “calm down.”

  Ella bowed her head, shame stinging her cheeks. He was right, of course. God, she was failing Finn in every single way imaginable. She was so tired she could cry, but no way was she doing that in front of everyone.

  A scuffle and then Mike was in her face. Was he on his knees? Confusion was making her head spin again.

  “My fault. I should’ve noticed earlier.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Come on.” He pulled her to her feet, dragged her over to the couch and plopped her right next to Finn. She caught his hand and Finn squeezed her fingers, his eyes worried.

  “You two stay put,” Scott said. “Mike and I will bring you something to eat.”

  Ella shook her head but before she could say a word, the two of them left. She heard the door to their apartment open and their voices drifted over, muffled.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, mortified. “I’m not taking good care of you, I’m—”

  “No,” he whispered. His other hand cupped her face and he smoothed his thumb over her cheek. “Ek vil enga adra.”

  I want no other.

  And no matter what happened, she couldn’t help but smile.

  ***

  “We need to talk,” Mike said, sitting down next to her on the sofa, his slim laptop in one hand.

  Of course they did.

  Ella grunted a vague affirmation, her mouth stuffed with eggs and bacon. She felt better already, her head clearer, and the room had steadied, spinning no more. She wiped spicy sauce a la Mike from her chin.

  Finn had inhaled his breakfast and was sipping his hot coffee. Some color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes were trained on the kitchen door, as if he hoped for another serving.

  Maybe he was. Men had higher metabolisms, didn’t they? And all the fighting and using magic to keep the Gates closed had to use up a lot of energy.