Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (16 page)

Someone screamed in the distance, where Martha had indicated, and Ella started running, hoping her hiking boots wouldn’t slip in the melting slush. As she raced toward the origin of the repeated screams, she drew her gun and cocked it.

More people spilled from the narrow passage between two buildings, and she shoved them to get through, brushing along walls covered in graffiti and slogans, trying to see beyond. Her pulse beat in her forehead, hammering between her eyes. Damn cold.

Then she was through. Wellington Square, she realized. Open space, a cluster of trees on one side, white residential buildings behind it. A deserted playground greeted her, an empty swing rocking eerily in the silence.

And bodies, scattered on the frozen ground, dark stains around them.
Blood
.

She turned in a circle, gun held up.
What the...?

A growl and a scream had her spinning and aiming. Something blindingly white streaked across her vision, a splash of crimson, and she was looking at a writhing body, its chest torn open.

And a wolf. Well, a wolf-shaped animal, as tall as she was, covered in shiny white scales. It took a step toward her, leaving bloody prints in the dirty snow. Ella stared, frozen, her mind refusing to process what she was seeing. There was something bird-like about it; it had a beak. The scales on its neck and flanks shifted as it took another step, shimmering like shards of mother-of-pearl. Yellowed fangs glinted wet inside the toothed bill, dripping saliva and blood.

Ella’s finger trembled on the trigger. “Motherfucker.” That thing had killed Simon, torn him open. Her heart boomed.

The wolf hissed and advanced on her, snapping her out of her daze.

She took the shot. The wolf jumped sideways, and then leaped on her, knocking her to the ground. The impact shook her body and a terrible weight crushed her chest. The world blacked out.

Next thing she knew was loud growling, a deafening screech, and a familiar voice shouting, “Watch out!”

Finn?

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes, stared up at the falling snowflakes.
Pretty
.

Then memory returned like the crack of a whip.
Shit
. She sat up. Her knee throbbed. The headache had been upgraded to a head-crushing vice, and she had a moment to wonder if one could call it a migraine if it hurt on both sides of her brain — then she saw Finn.

He was a silver hurricane, blades spinning and flashing, hair flying as he turned and slashed and fought —
what?
Two animal shapes moved on either side of him, half-vanishing in the white, outlined briefly against the dark facades of buildings, then melting again into nothingness.

“What the hell are those things?” came Dave’s voice from behind her, and she twisted to make sure it was him.

It was; the same grumpy, bleak-eyed, unshaven Dave.

“Wolves from
Aelfheim
.” She scrambled to her feet and found her gun a few feet away. Stumbling toward Finn, wobbly on her feet, she took aim. But he was in the way, blades moving in graceful arcs, cutting swaths through the falling snow, and the creatures were near invisible.
Damn
.

Two officers moved in the distance, holding heavy machine guns, covering the other side of the square. How many of the creatures were there?

Dave followed her, gun raised. “They don’t look like wolves.”

“They don’t look like anything,” Ella muttered, coming as close as she dared to the flurry of snow and blades that was Finn. “Dammit, Finn, move out of the way so I can get a shot in.”

Finn threw a knife into the vague shape of a wolf. Before he could turn, the other wolf reared over him, toothed beak gaping.

“Look out!” She shot in the air as she ran toward him, hoping to scare the creature off.

Then another screech sounded — from behind.
Holy shit
. Ella spun and fired before she was even sure she’d seen the third wolf. The animal crashed to the ground, whining, blood dripping down its side, painting it crimson against the colorless background. She shot it again, in the head, making sure it stayed down.

A shout rang and her heart stopped. “Finn?” She turned, seeking him in the snow drifts. Flakes weighed her lashes. She staggered in the direction she’d last seen him, her pulse drumming in her ears. “Finn!”

“Ella, are you okay?” Dave tried to intercept her. “Slow down. Backup is almost here.”

She twisted away and kept moving. “Where is he? Damn you, Dave, you left him alone with the wolves?”

A tall form appeared through the swirling snow, and she raised her gun, unsure. Squinting along the barrel of her gun, she took aim.

It was Finn. He was hunched over the bloodied body of a wolf, muttering something. Strands of pale hair had escaped his bandana, hiding his face.

“Well, I can see now why you wanted him as a partner,” Dave wheezed, joining her. “I’ve never seen anyone fight like that. Not even Simon.”

Ella took a step toward Finn, her pulse thudding in her ears. So much blood pooling around him, a lake of crimson. She had to make sure the wolf hadn’t gutted him, that the blood wasn’t his. Images of Simon’s torn body kept flashing before her eyes.

He straightened, eyes unfocused, raising his knife. His lips peeled back in a snarl. “Back.”

“Hey.” She eyed the knife warily. “It’s me, Ella. Snap out of it.”

Finn shuddered, blinked. The knife lowered. Then he looked around and his gaze stopped on Dave. His shoulders tensed.

“You were fighting two wolves,” Dave said. “I only see one dead body.”

“It got away,” Finn rasped. When Dave took a step toward him, Finn flinched. He was acting all weird.

Dave holstered his gun, his face hard. “Where did you learn to fight wolves, son?”

“It’s Finn,” Finn snapped but his voice shook.

“I’ve rarely seen people fight that way, and this sort of reaction afterward. Ex-military, though you look too young to be a veteran. Who the hell are you?”

Ella inserted herself between Dave and Finn. “Hey, calm down.”

“He’s under my payroll now.” Dave jabbed a finger at Finn. “If he’s military, I want to know. I don’t like secrets.”

“Dave.” Ella took his arm and pulled him a few steps away. “He’s just fought off two wolves, killed one, saved a bunch of lives, and he’s not even steady on his feet. He hasn’t had any downtime at all since yesterday. Give him a break.”

“Now you’re telling me how to do my job?” Dave’s face flushed red with anger. “I’m your goddamn boss!”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighed. “But he’s my partner, and truth be told, I need him.”

Chapter Five

Drekar

The place crawled with police. Yellow tape was wrapped around poles and posts, marking the crime scene. Martha was calling out orders, cordoning off the streets and alleys radiating from the square to keep gawkers out.

The engines of helicopters flying overhead tore the air apart and created vortexes of snow. There were police helos and those of news stations, come to cover the story. News vans were arriving, but they were stopped before they reached the square. Journalists argued with police officers, trying to sneak through. Cameras flashed. Ambulance sirens wailed. EMTs were gathered around those wounded. A tent had been erected over them to keep the snow out. The dead, already zipped in black bags, waited to be taken to the morgue.

Ella rubbed her aching ribs. Nothing broken, the EMTs had assured her, but she’d be bruised black and blue come tomorrow.

Could have been worse. She could’ve lost a limb, or even died. If Finn hadn’t been there...

She turned to look at him where he knelt in the snow, cleaning his knives, his bandana drawn low over his eyes. An EMT approached to check on him and he glared until she retreated to a safe distance. He went back to his task, his hands red and chafed, blood trickling from a cut in his cheek down to his jaw. He didn’t seem to feel it or care.

Same old, same old
.

Meanwhile, Dave paced in the snow, vibrating with controlled anger. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered. “If the Gates are open...”

“Dave, the Gates
are
open. You saw the wolves.”

“But what about fairy rings? Lights in the sky? What about the signs?” He growled. “Dammit all.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Plan? We never planned for anything like this. The Gates weren’t supposed to open again. Haven’t opened for over half a millennium.” Dave sounded disgusted.

“But you must have a contingency plan, right?” Ella waved at the chaos around them. “In case the elves came back?”

“I’ve notified my superiors. They’re trying to convince the government that army deployment may become necessary. For now, they consider the attack an isolated event.” Dave scrubbed a hand over his face. “If this is true, if the Gates have opened... Well, if the epics are to be trusted, we’re in for a treat. The elves are real bastards. The Snatchers, people called them back then.
Aelfadl
, nightmares. Disease-bringers, death-dealers. Raping the women. Killing folk. One of their favorite pastimes was stealing healthy human children and replacing them with sickly ones of their own. Changelings.”

From the corner of her eye she watched Finn who’d stopped cleaning his blades for a moment, as if listening. Or about to pass out. With Finn it was hard to tell. “And what happened to the kids they stole?” she asked.

“We don’t know. Lost forever.”

“But the elves fear iron, right? With iron weapons we can—”

“No, that was our mistake. The Shades fear iron. We confused the Shades with the elves, but they’re not the same.”

So they had no advantage over them? Ella’s hands clenched into fists. “Finn says worse things will come through.”

“Worse than the elves? Is that even possible?” Dave’s eyes flashed. “Like what?”

Finn raised his head and shot him a wary look. “Dragons,” he said, his voice frayed and low.

Dave turned to Ella. “Is he serious?”

“I’m afraid so.” Finn was always serious.

Dave huffed, ran his fingers through his short hair, dislodging snow flakes. “Well, I’m not sure which is worse.” He scowled at the dead wolves. A team of lab technicians in white coats hovered over them, deciding on how to transport them for examination.

Ella said nothing. She noticed Finn shiver as he sheathed one of his bowie knives. It seemed they couldn’t catch a moment’s rest, and Finn’s energy would sooner or later run dry. She thought of the warm clothes Mike had found him, still in a heap on the sofa, the boxes of chop suey on her table. It was time to go home.

“If you’d told me about dragons yesterday I’d have laughed in your face,” Dave muttered. “But after these... wolves,” he nodded in the direction of the creatures, “I’d expect anything. So, fine, dragons. How do we fight them?”

She turned to Finn, but he was staring at a point in space. The lines around his mouth had deepened and she didn’t know if it was pain, exhaustion or something else.

“They’re apparently creatures of the cold,” she said, “winter coats and all. With the out-of-season snow, we’re at a disadvantage.”

“Well, the army’s coming,” Dave snapped. “They’ll slaughter the dragons and anything else that comes with them.”

“You can’t win this fight,” Finn rasped, stirring.

“Bullshit.” Dave gestured at the frozen landscape. “The elves came before. They didn’t manage to conquer us when we were languishing in the dark ages, armed with stone axes.”

“Steel,” Ella muttered.

“What?”

“They had steel axes then.”

“Point is...” Dave turned to Finn. “They failed before and that was the Middle Ages. We have technology now, we have big guns.”

“And you think they don’t?” Finn gave him an incredulous look. “You think only you made progress over the centuries? You asked why no fairy rings appeared, no lights, no warning. Don’t you think that by now they know how to disguise their arrival? Will you walk right into their hands, as naive and unprepared as your ancestors were?”

Ella opened her mouth and snapped it closed. That was quite a speech by Finn’s standards. And what he said...
Dear god, elves with technology
. “But what about magic—?”

“Magic and machines. Together. I said you can’t win.” Finn looked down at the throwing knife he’d been cleaning. “You won’t...” The knife fell from his hand. He stared at his shaking hand as if it didn’t belong to him.

“That’s it,” Ella said, worry tightening her chest. She’d determined Finn wasn’t bleeding to death but he wasn’t in a good shape, either. “We’re going home, now.”

“You can’t go,” Dave said.

“The hell we can’t. We’ve been at it like machines since yesterday, and with Simon’s death...” She drew a breath. “We’re done here.”

“I mean...” Dave hesitated. “Simon’s memorial service is in one hour.”

Damn
. If Dave had told her, it had completely slipped her mind. “Then I’ll drive Finn home and meet you there.”

“I’m fine,” Finn said, predictably.

“No, you’re not. You’re beaten to hell and back,” Ella informed him in case he’d missed it. “If you’d only let the EMTs check you...”

Finn scowled. “I fight with you.”

“And I make sure you don’t drop dead of exhaustion.”

Dave cleared his throat. “Ella, you know you won’t make it in time to the service if you swing by your place first. All the roads downtown are blocked. Just saying.”

Finn gathered his knives and sheathed them. He stood, wiped his hands on his pants and folded his arms over his chest. Arched an eyebrow, cocked his head to the side.

Two against one.
Oh, man
. Ella sighed. “All right, fine.”

***

The memorial service was a simple, sombre affair, in the Japanese Gardens behind the Town Hall. Ella knew why Dave chose the place: it used to be Simon’s favorite haunt.

The Bureau was there, as were officers from other departments. Simon’s friends. Martha was among them, and oddly it made Ella feel better. She didn’t know many of the other officers and she felt she stuck out like a sore thumb — covered in mud and spattered with blood, one of her sleeves torn. No wonder she was garnering odd looks.

They stood inside the small pagoda while snow fell silently all around, blanketing the trees and the shore of the small lake. The other officers whispered among themselves as they waited for Dave to say a few words.

Sarah, Simon’s girlfriend, stood behind Dave, holding a bunch of white lilies in her gloved hands. Dressed in a black dress and matching coat belted at the waist, high heels and a hat, she looked like a picture from a fashion magazine. 

She caught Ella staring and nodded in greeting. Swallowing hard, Ella looked away. She hadn’t known Sarah had been released from the hospital. Had Simon been happy with this woman? Had he been happy with Ella as his partner?

I hope you were, Simon
. The knot in her throat kept growing until she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe ever again.

Dave cleared his throat and the whispers ceased.

He spoke of Simon’s courage and kindness, of his humor and many talents — in languages, in art, in music. He was the soul of parties, the one with all the answers.

All Ella wanted right now was to hide in a deep, dark hole and forget. It wasn’t true Simon was dead. It wasn’t possible.
It’s a lie!
she wanted to shout.
Please
.

As she stepped out of the temple, the others walked up to her, indistinct faces, gripping her hand and offering condolences. For her partner, her friend. She scuffed the layer of snow with her boot. Dirt and snow and ash — flakes spiraling down, landing on her lashes.

‘We’re so sorry, Ella, so sorry
.
’

Yeah
. As if they had any idea... She forced herself to reply, to nod, to get through this. Simon had no other family. Old Greary, his uncle, was dead, and if this was the last thing she could do for Simon, then by god she would, even if all she wanted was to run away.

A glance over her shoulder showed her Finn standing like a bodyguard at her back, arms folded, scowling at everyone. A wisp of warmth curled inside her chest. Suddenly she was thankful he’d insisted on coming.

Dave turned to her as the others filed away. “It’s a dark day when an agent dies,” he said. “And I’ve lost too many lately. Good officers, all of them.”

She’d known some of them. Couldn’t imagine them gone. Couldn’t grasp the concept of Simon’s death.

“We’re going to have a drink in Simon’s memory at a bar downtown,” Dave was saying. “Are you coming?”

She shook her head.

He flicked her a worried glance. “Will you be all right? Would you rather grab a cup of coffee or something instead?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She felt chilled. “Home sounds good right now. Didn’t catch much sleep last night, and the cat needs to be fed or she’ll shred the furniture.”