Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (20 page)

But the
aelfar
were the enemy. “Are you an elf?” She wanted to hear it from his lips.

Finn’s lips pressed together. He turned his face away from her, but his words, when he spoke, rang crystal clear: “I’m a Boreal.”

The Dragon

Episode 3

The Dokkaelfar wrought the Duergar race

From their own bones and the bloody sea, with iron cogs and spiral wheels

In the likeness of men the Duergar were made,

To guard the Gates and fates of men from the Ljosaelfar’s greed for power
.

Chapter One

Boreal

Ella Benson watched the elf sleep. Not just an elf, though: a Boreal, according to his own admission, an elite member of the race about to invade her world.

An aelfr
.

Finn looked peaceful on the narrow bed, his breathing even. Instead of his customary bandana, he now had a bandage wrapped around his head, from which ash-blond hair fell on the pillow, framing his face.

Elvish ears
.

She touched the gun holstered at her hip, her insides clenching with fear and anger. He still looked like Finn — tall and strong, beautiful, vulnerable and in need of her help, but damn, what was she supposed to do now? The way he’d looked at her back at the alley as the dragon flew away, the deadpan way he’d asked if she’d kill him...

Dave had called earlier, checking on them, but she’d avoided talking to him. Hadn’t known what to tell him.

Swallowing hard, she let her hand drop and stretched her legs. For some reason, spending the remainder of the night and most of the morning in a chair hadn’t improved her mood.

Her apartment. Her belongings. All burned. Would she be compensated for her furniture and things? The insurance people still hesitated with a decision. Dragons weren’t listed among fire hazards, go figure, but in the end they’d given her the address of the motel to stay until the paperwork was drawn up. Now she thought about it, they hadn’t promised they’d pay.

Finn made a small noise and she leaned forward, drawing her gun. “Finn?” He had yet to wake up completely. He’d been out for many hours, it was about time he regained consciousness.

Not that she was worried about him. No way. Keeping a clear head was important. She could do this. “Finn. Wake up.”

He blinked blearily, glancing around, and the knots in her stomach twisted in new, interesting ways.
What now?

Then Finn’s pale brows drew together and his jaw clenched. “Hospital?” he hissed.

Oh, right
. The room was so Spartan it bore a resemblance to a hospital ward, she had to admit — and when Finn had seen the inside of one? “Not a hospital. We’re in a motel.”

Ella held the gun loosely at her side, waiting for him to make the first move. Questions hustled for space in the forefront — why hadn’t he used magic until now? Was it because he was going incognito? Would he use it and blast her to smithereens now his cover was blown?

“Finn?” She waited, her forefinger caressing the trigger, her heart pounding.

He focused on her and relaxed, slumping against the pillows. There was relief in his gaze. “Ella.”

She nodded, torn between happiness that he found her presence comforting and numbing fear. “What do you remember?”

Finn frowned. “Your apartment. Food.” His stomach rumbled right on cue and his cheekbones flushed.

God, how was she supposed to keep a clear head when all she wanted to do was hug him and wipe that look of confusion from his face? “And then?”

“Your neighbor came. Mike?” He shook his head, winced and brought a hand to his bandaged head. He frowned, tugged at the gauze lightly. “No, that was before.”

“Do you remember the dragon?”

Finn stilled for a long moment, his gaze sliding up to her face, then down to her gun. His brows knit.

Her breath froze in her lungs.

In one movement, he threw the covers off and jerked sideways, groping for something — his knives probably — but his face paled, going to green. With a yelp, he tumbled out of the bed.

Dammit!
Wincing in sympathy, Ella hurried around the bed. He was obviously dizzy; concussed, most probably. The way the dragon had thrown him against that building, it was no wonder.

He was curled on the floor, arms around his middle, eyes scrunched shut. His breathing came in shallow pants. The old pajama bottom he wore, borrowed from Mike, had torn along one seam. The gashes in his side had reopened with his fall from the dragon’s neck; she hoped the new butterfly bandages would hold. His wrist was wrapped in gauze;
sprained
. His ribs were bandaged;
cracked
. A damn miracle he hadn’t also cracked his skull open.
Tough bastard
.

She chewed on her lower lip as he slowly sat up, peering at her under his pale hair. He leaned back until he was leaning against the wall and stretched out his legs, grimacing.

“I told you,” he murmured, his lips white.

She nodded. “You’re a Boreal,” she whispered.

His gaze went to her gun and his mouth opened and closed. They stayed like that for what felt like ages, their breathing the only sound.

“You lied to me,” she said and anger seeped back like hot poison.

He said nothing.

Well, to be fair, he hadn’t actually denied being
aelfr
, but he’d had plenty of chances to admit it.

And she’d had plenty of chances to ask. Briefly she wondered if she was more furious at herself than him. Squaring her shoulders, pushing down her worry, she said, “Time to start talking. You’re one of them. Working for them.”

“No.” He shook his head, seemed to think better of it and stilled, closing his eyes.

“Listen.” She crouched to be able to see him better, her gun pointing down. “We’re under invasion. By your kind. You said that the Boreals wouldn’t come through the Gates without sending their animals first — but you were here before they even arrived. So how am I supposed to believe anything you say?” It hurt to speak the words, to see Finn’s face close off, his mouth thin. “Are you their spy, Finn?”

“I swear to you I’m not.” His clear eyes blazed with indignation.

“Then why are you here? Better still, how? If the Gates are supposedly only just opening, how the hell did you cross over before anyone else?” Another thought struck her. “Or are there more elves here? Finn...”

He looked away, his jaw clenching. “I’m the only one.”

“Come now, tell me the truth.” Her fingers tightened around the grip of her gun. “How many—”

“I’m the only one,” he repeated, every word forced through gritted teeth.

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know.”

Ella sighed. “You can do better than that.”

He drew a deep breath, hissed and pressed a hand to his side. “I’ve been here for more than a year now. I was doing fine. I was hoping...” He swallowed.

“Hoping what?”

He shrugged, a gesture of defeat. “Nothing.”

Her curiosity piqued, she stared at his blank face, trying to analyze the tiny flickers of emotion going through his eyes. Goddamn impossible to figure out, this man, and yet she wanted to understand him, to help him.

You’re hopeless, Ella. Hopeless
. He’d admitted to belonging with the enemy, had mumbled some half-baked excuse about not knowing how he got there, and she still believed him.

When Dave found out... That gave her a chill. She somehow didn’t think Dave would want to hug Finn and let him go.

Holstering her gun, she scooted until she sat next to him. “You need to talk to me. What are you doing here?”

“Living.” It came out bitter.

“Why did you leave
Aelfheim
? Does it have to do with the invasion?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t know about that. I didn’t even know the Gates were real.”

“And you just popped through to this world one day and never looked back?”

“Yes.”

“That’s hard to believe, don’t you think?”

Finn didn’t answer. His shoulders tensed.

“How did you cross?” When he didn’t reply, she fairly growled in frustration. “Talk to me.”

A stretch of heavy silence.

“I was running,” he said, gaze firmly locked on the far wall. “They sent us to capture a
Dokkaelfar
tower, but it was a trap. Wolves came after us.” He rubbed at his chest, up and down, his breathing growing faster. “The trail was ending, destroyed by the advancing glacier.” He reached out a hand, as if to touch something. “A wall of ice. I turned. The wolves were coming at me, a whole pack. I knew I was going to die.” His hand dropped. “And then, suddenly I wasn’t... wasn’t there anymore.”

Ella frowned. “And where were you?”

He jerked, as if he’d forgotten her presence. “I was here.” He licked his cracked lips.

“In the city?”

“No.”

Dreams had called him to the city, she remember him saying before the dragon attack. “Where then?” she asked.

“In a quiet street, lined with trees. A small town.”

That simple. “And you have no idea how that happened?”

“I said no.”

“You know it sounds crazy, right?”
She
was crazy, even pretending to believe him, even listening to this shit. “Who created the Gate? Why won’t you tell me the truth, Finn? The whole truth?”

His mouth tightened. “I did.”

She got up, straightened her blouse, avoided looking at him. “I should give you to the authorities, to the army.”

He shuddered and looked away.

Dammit
.

A coffee, that was what she needed to jump-start her muddled brain and sort things out in her head. Sort out the priorities. But she couldn’t leave Finn alone, not now. He might try to escape.

She had to tell Dave, of course, and then he would take over, interrogate Finn or turn him over to the military. That was her duty as an officer of the law, Paranormal super secret Bureau or not.

That was clear enough, wasn’t it?

Rubbing her arms, suddenly cold, she walked to the window and gazed outside at the swirling snow.