Boreal and John Grey Season 2

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  “Nothing.” Mike slumped. “It’s just that Scott’s father’s sick and Scott is stressed out and that stresses me, too, and...” He shuddered and raised his head. “Is your heater broken? It’s colder than Lucifer’s balls in here.”

  Ella ignored the question. “I’m sorry about Scott’s father. Will he be okay?”

  “Probably. He’s a tough bastard. Keeps getting lost in the bottom of a bottle. His liver isn’t happy with that.”

  Ella didn’t know what to say, so she settled for spreading the clothes on the couch. “Do you think they’ll fit?”

  Mike hooked a finger at Finn who was still watching them from his spot in front of the apartment door, the gun dangling from his fingers. “Come try them on. They’re Scott’s. Size should be fine.” He frowned. “I think. Not sure anymore. Damn.”

  Finn hobbled over to the couch and picked up the slacks. Then he pushed down his drawstring pants and hey, what do you know? He was going commando. No briefs or anything.

  Ella realized her mouth hung open. She fanned herself. “Getting kinda hot in here.”

  Finn lifted a brow, buck naked, and shifted his weight to his good leg. Muscles contracted in his flat stomach, and boy was he a magnificent sight.

  Mike made a sound as if he’d swallowed a fly and jumped to his feet. “Um. I’ll leave you to it then.”

  “Sit down, Mike,” Ella muttered. “He’s a boy, you’re a boy. Nothing to be shocked about.”

  “Girl, you...” Mike cleared his throat, his face an interesting shade of crimson. He looked at the ceiling. “You have no idea. You could sell tickets. People would pay good money to see this, but I... I’m in love with Scott, dammit. I feel like I’m cheating.”

  Finn held still and that damn brow remained cocked. He glanced from Mike to Ella, a question in his eyes. It probably was, ‘What the fuck’s the problem?’

  “Come on, Mike.” Ella couldn’t help the grin. “Look, he’s getting dressed. Your virtue is safe.”

  Because Finn was pulling on the slacks, hiding his manly parts.

  A goddamn shame.

  The clothes fit fine, though the shirt stretched dangerously tight across his chest, forcing him to leave the top two buttons undone.

  Ella itched to undress him again.

  “Perfect,” Mike said, his voice a bit high-pitched. He had to clear his throat once and his cheeks still burned a deep red. “You look great, man.”

  “Thank you.” Finn brushed his hands over the soft material of the shirt. He looked down, his hair falling in his eyes, and smiled.

  Chapter Three

  Frantic

  An enormous sign outside the skyscraper proclaimed it to be a bank; it flashed yellow in the fog of night.

  Frowning, Ella leaned against the car and checked to see that their bodyguards had followed them. She spotted their silver car on the other side of the street and nodded in greeting as she zipped up her jacket, waiting for Finn to get out and find his balance on his good leg. His magic obviously didn’t help with the pain of the badly healed bone and the tracker implanted near his knee.

  That was another thing they had to discuss with Dave. She patted the smashed transmitter in her jacket pocket. Yeah, lots of topics to cover.

  Anger warmed her neck and she turned to watch Finn limp around the car, his eyes reflecting the light from the building like a cat’s.

  He looked elegant in the black slacks and white shirt, a black jacket thrown over it. Only his hair was wild, escaping his bandana and getting blown across his face. A glow came and went about him, as if he couldn’t quite contain his magic anymore.

  She fell in step with him and they made their way to the entrance. The guard at the massive doors looked them up and down, then made a call to someone on his cell and waved them inside.

  The lobby was quiet and deserted. The bank was closed, but a woman in a suit, complete with earpiece and dark glasses, came to meet them and murmured a formal welcome. She led them to the elevator and joined them inside. The bulge of a gun at her hip caught Ella’s attention.

  Was she a watch-dog or something else?

  Surreptitiously Ella stepped in front of Finn, pretending to read the safety instructions posted on the elevator wall. Stupid, but she didn’t trust anyone with a gun around Finn since the sniper attacks.

  The elevator stopped and the woman shot Ella a vexed look before marching out, clearly expecting them to follow.

  Not like they had a choice. Ella unzipped her jacket and smoothed down her white blouse. It dawned on her she and Finn were dressed similarly — a uniform of white top and black pants with army boots to complete the ensemble.

  Great. Meet the amazing twins.

  The elevator doors closed behind them, and Ella stumbled to a halt.

  They were in a basement deep below the bank, inside a high-ceilinged crypt. It wasn’t your typical bank vault, though. Tapestries hung on the walls, depicting battles and forest scenes. Thick crimson carpets covered the floors.

  A long table lined one wall, and mingling in a swirl of colors were people — lots of them. Faces dark and light, with hooded or wide eyes, they all turned and the hubbub of easy conversation was cut short.

  Dave walked toward Ella and Finn, a faint smile on his face. He nodded at the woman who’d led them there. “Thank you, Liz, I’ll take it from here.”

  Liz shrugged and turned around, heading back to the elevator. It was all Ella could do not to follow her and run flat out of the place.

  Dave made as if to put his arm around Finn’s shoulders and found himself looking down the barrel of Finn’s gun.

  “Now, son,” Dave sighed. “Put the gun down.”

  Finn scowled. He did put his gun away, though, let the jacket cover his back holster once more, and stepped away.

  Fists clenching, Ella turned back to the watching crowd. “Dave, I thought you said we’d meet only the Council.”

  “It’s our annual international meeting.” Dave glanced at Finn, met his hot glare and grimaced. “Nothing to worry about. These are our trusted people, but we can have a quiet meeting with the Council only.” He lifted his hand, snapped his fingers, and a few people started moving, winding among the rest. “Come.”

  They all filed to the back of the hall, and Dave didn’t budge until she and Finn followed. Whispers floated around them as they strode past, a nauseating cloud of perfume and cologne engulfing them. Ella was glad to step into the smaller room with its long table and scentless air.

  The Council had already sat down. Younger and older faces, and Chang — the only one she recognized.

  “Welcome,” Chang said, gesturing at the chairs. He leaned forward to peer at Finn. “Have a seat. Do you have any progress to report?”

  “Not yet,” Ella said, ignoring the invitation to sit and wondering how many times she’d have to lie this evening.

  Finn lowered himself gingerly in an empty chair but said nothing, ignoring Chang’s intensive scrutiny.

  “Excuse me,” said a lady in a pink blouse and dark-framed glasses. At first Ella thought the poor woman had a poodle sitting on her head, but then realized it was the hairdo. “Is he the elf?”

  Finn leaned back in his chair, his mouth a thin line.

  “Show them, son,” Dave said.

  Finn placed his hands on the table and muttered something Ella couldn’t understand but which sounded decidedly unflattering.

  Dave obviously understood, though. His brows drew together. “Is this how you want to play it, aelfr?”

  “Dammit, Dave, stop this,” Ella ground out. “How many times do we have to roll over for your Council members? Can’t Chang vouch for Finn?”

  “I don’t think that would be enough, Stabilizer,” Chang said. “If he won’t even show—”

  Gasps around the table alerted Ella to the fact that things had gotten interesting — or worse? Hard to separate the two these days.

  Finn’s face and fisted hands glowed. A white luminescent mist appeared to
rise from his chest.

  The hell?

  And to make things worse, her head started to throb, her pulse echoing in her ears. Headaches sucked.

  Then Finn’s jacket began to rip at the seams, the sound thundering in the hush. He jerked backward, the silver in his eyes blinding, and the air around him wavered like liquid glass. The threads hummed when he raised his hands and flames danced on his palms.

  Looked like she wasn’t the only one to lose control when angered.

  Ella grabbed his wrist. “Stop.”

  “I can’t,” Finn bit out.

  She could feel the threads against her skin, hear them inside her mind: a cacophony of shrill notes that hurt her ears. And she could see why: the dark red threads — her threads — were also bent out of shape.

  Without thinking, she reached up and touched a red string, straightening it, settling it back into place.

  Instantly a wave of relief went through her, her headache easing. She straightened another thread — tightening the weave, closing the gap — and the pain went down another notch.

  Finn twisted his arm so he could hold onto her hand, his jaw grinding, tendons standing out in his neck. His grip was threatening to crush her fingers. The glow on his skin was blinding.

  As Ella watched, his golden threads straightened as well, closing in, returning to their usual pattern. The humming stopped.

  Silence returned.

  The glow diminished. Finn slumped forward and she leaned against him, too tired for words.

  The silence persisted. It had a breathless quality about it.

  When Dave cleared his throat, it rang like a gunshot. “Any questions?”

  ***

  “We’re here to discuss the seal of Vanaheim, home world of the Vanir,” a young man in a dark tailored suit was saying. “Its possible destruction and the repercussions. We also must talk about John Grey and his safety.”

  Finn lifted his head from his folded arms and gave the man a narrow look.

  “David Holborn says that the sniper we’re looking for may be a man in his service, a certain Jeff Somesby. However, the man has vanished and we haven’t been able to locate him — yet.”

  Finn dropped his head back on his arms. Tension ran through his body, stiffening his broad shoulders.

  “I’ve lent him bodyguards,” Dave said. “We monitor the buildings facing their apartment and...” He scowled and leaned over. “Finn, where the hell is your Kevlar vest?” he hissed.

  Shit. It had been a while since the last attack and with so much on her mind... Ella groaned.

  Finn looked bored.

  “We don’t know why the FBI would decide to kill John Grey,” the young man went on. “Why would they, after our lengthy explanations? It makes no sense.”

  Ella raised a hand. “Just an idea, but maybe they don’t trust you as much as you think?”

  Dave winced. “Yeah.” He scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “Anyhow, we have yet another problem and a possible answer. Ella, where’s the transmitter?”

  Whispers flew around the room. The Council members shifted in their seats.

  She took the smashed spidery gizmo out of her jacket pocket and placed it on the table. She backed away a step. That thing gave her the creeps and the memory of Finn cutting his flesh and pulling it out ranked up there with her worst nightmares.

  Dave reached for it. It was a rusty brown color. Blood. Oh god. It was covered in Finn’s dried blood. She hated the gadget, hated its shape. She’d never look at spiders the same way again after Finn’s memories and used to like the critters.

  Dave lifted the transmitter and a dark scowl twisted his face. “It’s elven.”

  “Of course it’s elven. You put it there.” Ella matched his scowl.

  “I didn’t. Someone else did.”

  The whispers in the room died. Finn frowned and tucked loose strands of hair behind his ears. He straightened his black bandana and shot Ella a questioning glance. She shrugged.

  “Who else has access to your tech?” She folded her arms under her breasts. “This is nonsense, unless...” Oh god, no. “Are there more Guardians out there?”

  Dave sank in a chair. “What do you think?”

  Dammit. Well of course there were. “How many?”

  “I used to be the only one on the East Coast. But I guess things have changed with the arrival of John Grey.”

  An old man with a goatee stood up. “Another Guardian is trying to kill John Grey? What do you plan to do about it?”

  Dave toyed with the destroyed transmitter, his eyes dark. “I’ll find the culprits and stop them. This is my responsibility. It happened on my shift, by a person hiding among people I trust. The only time the transmitter could have been inserted was when he was kept at the military camp.”

  “Or when he was at the clinic,” Ella said.

  Dave gave her a startled look but nodded. “Or the clinic.”

  Many people had been at the clinic — nurses, visitors, patients, doctors. It could have been anyone.

  “If you find Jeff Somesby, chances are you’ll find the mastermind of this operation.” Ella ignored the sting in her chest. Jefferson . God.

  “I am following leads,” Dave said. “If you have any suggestions...?”

  “I wish.” Because if she’d known where to look, she’d have gone and killed the person herself. Or at least sat on his chest and punched his face until the police came and took her away.

  “I’ll talk with Sarah. She has good ideas.”

  “Like the one about hurting Finn to access his lost memories?” Ella’s heart banged in her chest. Maybe she could just punch Dave, since Jeff wasn’t available.

  “About that: maybe you should reconsider—”

  “Fuck you, Dave.”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Damn right,” Ella said, “and feel welcome to repeat my reply to her as well.”

  “Why don’t you tell her yourself? I’m sure she’ll love to hear from you, see your concern about her well-being. Because she did get shot while visiting you, didn’t she?”

  Ella gritted her teeth. Maybe she should pay Sarah a visit. If only to make sure it was clear her bright ideas weren’t welcome.

  Finn was watching the interchange with a blank expression. If he knew what they were talking about, he’d probably smash Dave to bits like he’d done with the transmitter.

  “We’ll leave the matter of the other Guardian and Jeff Somesby in David’s capable hands,” Chang said and Ella rolled her eyes. “The only matter left to discuss before we end this meeting is the seal of Vanaheim.”

  “And what are you going to do about it?”

  Everyone froze — mouths open, hands lifted in various gestures.

  Because the one who’d spoken was Finn.

  “Lord Grey.” The young man who’d spoken earlier bowed from the shoulders, and to Ella’s surprise everyone followed his example, standing up and bowing.

  Finn’s eyes widened just a fraction.

  Destitute prince. Lord of the Gates.

  Dave looked startled, too, as if he’d never thought of Finn as anything more than an enemy of mankind or a difficult child that deserved punishment.

  “We can’t prevent the seal of Vanaheim from breaking,” the young man said as the others sat down with a scrape of chair legs on the floor. “As I’m sure you know. If the Weaver broke the seals of Musspelheim and Jotunnheim, there’s no reason why he can’t open up Vanaheim as well.”

  “So what’s the purpose of this discussion?” Finn muttered, his voice sharp.

  Good question. Ella had been wondering the same thing.

  The young man who still hadn’t revealed his name glanced to Chang, then to Dave. “The Shades unleashed by the breaking of the other two seals are strong. But the Vanir... They’re powerful like no other being we know. The only reason they were defeated was the alliance between the Dark Elves and the Aesir, the combination of their forces. We have been concerned about t
he possibility of the Light Elves conquering Midgard, our world. But if the Vanir escape Vanaheim, we shouldn’t worry anymore about the elves, because the Vanir will overtake us, and probably every single other world.”

  Lovely.

  Finn tipped his head to the side.

  “Right, why the discussion.” The young man tugged on his formal jacket, his hands shaking. “The seals were placed by the Dark Elves. Not the Aesir or the Jotunn.”

  “Make your point,” Finn said.

  The man shook his head. “It seems clear to us, Lord Grey, that the Dark Elves have allied themselves with the Vanir. Something huge is going down and you’re the key to it all. I’m sure you know it, too.”

  Finn lifted a brow.

  “They’ve directed all their resources toward your capture. We can’t afford you going over.”

  A sense of dread grew in the pit of Ella’s stomach. “What do you mean?”

  “We can’t allow him to be converted to their cause one way or another. We know where he is at any given time. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, we are the ones who directed David Holborn to place the tracker in his leg as a condition for keeping him alive. He has informed us of your wish to remove it. I’m afraid the answer is no.”

  Ella grimaced. The conversation had turned around so fast her thoughts spun. “You’re talking about John Grey. How is a tracker going to prevent him from leaving if he wishes to?” In other words — are you that stupid? But she didn’t say it. She was quite proud of herself for that.

  “We have the dragon,” the man said. “As you know.”

  Startled, Ella turned to Dave. “You said you only took her in to protect her. We trusted you.”

  “It wasn’t up to me,” Dave muttered, scowling at the table top.

  “That’s an easy excuse.” Her jaw was so tight it hurt. Once again she’d trusted him and got burned.

  “Please let me finish,” the young man said. “If you remove the tracker, the gadget will die. If we lose the signal, we won’t wait more than a few minutes. If the signal doesn’t return by then, the dragon will be harmed.” He lifted his chin. “We have been protecting this world for centuries. And we’ll stop at nothing to fulfill our mission.”