Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (58 page)

He wasn’t a boy anymore but a teenager, his body tall and lanky, his shoulders narrow. His face was caught between childhood and adulthood, the angles of his cheekbones and jaw not so sharply defined.

He pointed his arrow up as a fluttering sound broke the quiet, but then lowered it with a small huff.

It was peaceful and oddly beautiful, the whorls on the tree trunks mesmerizing, the icicles hanging from the lower branches glinting with rainbows when light touched them. Star-shaped flowers grew under the trees, their petals like crystal, fracturing every beam of light into rainbows. She reached toward them, entranced.

Feeling eyes on her, she turned. Finn had an odd look on his face.
Pensive
. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

The place was beautiful, the moment joyful and tranquil.

And knowing this was Finn’s memory, it wouldn’t last.

Something heavy crashed in the woods and Finn fell into a crouch, glancing about. She crouched beside him, watching his anxious face, the hooded eyes she knew so well.

Where was Neith? Why was a teenage Finn hunting in the woods alone?

The crashing sounds came closer and Finn’s mouth twisted in fear. What the hell was coming?

Trees groaned as the creature lumbered through the forest, knocking into the trunks with thunderous thumps. A trumpeting filled the air.
An elephant?

Finn cowered, huddling as small as he could, bright lines lighting up his skin. The white fur he wore and his tangled silvery hair blended so well with the snow she wasn’t sure she’d notice him if she hadn’t been looking at his face a moment before. A tremor went through him, then he stilled.

A boom and a smash, and a tree shook violently as something huge rumbled past. Ella gasped, falling back into the snow.

An armored car.
Probably
. A creature couldn’t be that... rectangular, could it? Unless it was a giant armadillo. Really giant.
Humongous
. Immense and white, each plate shimmering like nacre, and glittering windows —
or eyes?
— fitted in the narrower front.

She was so close to Finn she could hear him panting, his head bowed over his arms in the snow. She wanted to comfort him but couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.

A long moment of numbing terror as the armadillo-like creature trudged past them. Then it was gone, moving on its booming and trumpeting way. She listened to it smashing into trees for a while before a sound from Finn made her turn.

He was on his knees, his thin face blank. Then his mouth turned into a bitter line and a familiar glare fell in place. In an uncharacteristic display of frustration, he threw bow and arrows away and gouged holes in the snow with both hands.

She tried to ask him what was wrong, but her mouth wasn’t working. Figured. She waited until he was done and when he picked up bow and arrows and set out in another direction, she followed.

The trees thinned out and colors caught her eye.
A village?
The houses were hardly visible against the white mountain slope, but multicolored pieces of cloth were tied to their roofs and they whipped in the wind, cheerful and festive.

Finn didn’t look thrilled, though. He stomped to the village edge, then slowed and sighed. He headed toward a specific house and knocked on the wooden door. An elven woman stepped out, her long hair wrapped in colorful ribbons, the points of her ears dark. She was much taller than Finn, and her arms looked strong.

“Isthelfinn,” she muttered, not sounding too pleased.

Finn bowed his head. “Greetings,” he said, strained. “If I may ask for—”

“Is it that boy again?” a gruff male voice asked from inside, and Finn flinched.

“What happened?” the woman asked, narrowing her eyes. “It’s not even Winter yet. Can’t you hunt?”

Not even Winter?
Ella shuddered.

“A
hestr
passed and scared the animals off,” Finn whispered, still looking down at his feet. “Neith is in bed, and I haven’t caught anything in two days. If you could spare something...?”

“Tell him we can’t spare food whenever he shows up!” the man shouted from the depths of the house. “Neith laid his path years ago and now he has to tread it.”

Finn’s face tightened. “It wasn’t his fault, what happened.”

“Who’s asking you, boy?” The woman scowled. “Beggars don’t offer opinions.”

Ella seethed. She wanted to punch the woman, then go inside and kick the other asshole where it hurt. Neith was sick and a teenage boy was taking care of him, hunting in the frozen mountains, and they wouldn’t even give him a scrap of their food?

But Finn only bowed again, paler than before, and turned to go. He stumbled once in a pothole in the path, straightened and kept going. Why didn’t he try the other houses? What had Neith done for the villagers to hate him? What was that thing in the woods?

Finn slung his bow over his shoulder and headed back toward the forest, staggering in the snow, his shoulders slumped.

Damn, she was failing him again.

“Finn!” She jerked at the sound of her own voice echoing in the stillness.

He spun around, eyes wide, barely keeping from falling.

Ella?
His mouth formed the word but she didn’t hear it, didn’t wait for the sound to catch up with her as she started toward him, cursing the snow that slowed her down, cursing the villagers and the elves, anger warming her chest, igniting her.

By the time she reached him, she burned with it. She fought the thickening in the air as she approached him, struggled against it, punched it with her fists.

Finally she reached him, caught his hands in hers and pulled him close.

Chapter Ten

Real

“Hard to say if it’s working or not.” Dave sank into one of the metal chairs and ran his fingers through his grey hair.

“Meaning what exactly?” Ella was too happy to let Dave’s vague comments dampen her spirits.

Finn sat on the bed, his gaze fixed on the far wall; a stillness that spoke of tension.

“Meaning, animals keep passing. Only one made it through alive, which is good. But,” Dave lifted a forefinger, “he hasn’t stopped opening Gates.”

“Yet,” Ella said. With Finn sleeping next to her every night, hordes of animals could have crossed unscathed. They hadn’t, and that was huge. Not that she was going to explain that part to Dave. “It’s only been four days.”

“You mean, it’s
already
been four days.” Dave’s brows knitted in a dark frown. “I need to see results.”

“It’s not magic,” Ella snapped.

“Sure it is,” Dave quipped.

Finn glowered at the cafeteria wall.

“You know what I mean.” She’d spoken to Finn in his dream, touched him, and this morning she’d seen some sparkle return to his eyes. They’d made progress, dammit.

“This friend of yours, the oracle, Mike.” Dave turned his speculating gaze on Finn who ignored him in favor of shifting his glare to the closed door. “He explained to me what you’re trying to do. More happy memories, fewer nightmares, right?”

“That’s the general idea.” Ella shrugged.

“You can really enter his dreams,” Dave whispered, frowning. “Where he forms the Gates.”

Ella swallowed, flicked a glance at Finn. “I guess so.” She still didn’t understand how it worked.

“How are you doing it, son? Do you know?” Dave waited with the patience of an alligator until Finn shook his head.

“He’s asleep when it happens,” Ella said. “The dreams trigger the Gates.”

“Only the nightmares?”

Tough one
. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen any happy memories so far.”

“What if you try and dream of something happy?” Dave had turned his attention back to Finn who sat ramrod straight, a muscle leaping in his jaw. “Then we could narrow the issue down.”

“I can’t.” Finn made a visible effort to relax his hands. “Can’t control what I dream.”

“Think of good things before you go to bed,” Dave said.

“Yeah, you’re sitting here after shooting him and you think it’s that easy,” Ella snapped.

Dave sighed. “Yeah, that’s what Mike said.”

Mike?

Dave pulled out his phone and pressed a button. Ella and Finn exchanged puzzled looks. Long moments passed.

Then the door opened and two policemen entered, followed by Mike. Clean-shaven, his hair spiked with gel. His clothes clean.

What. The. Hell
.

He’d been there, waiting? Ella got up, her jaw hanging slack, and before she knew it, Mike bounded over, arms open, and hugged her tight. He lifted her off her feet and turned her around, laughing.

“Good to see you, girl, good to see you.” He put her back down, a smile to his ears. He wore one of his favorite blue shirts and jeans. A picture of normalcy. “Your boss said I could see you but only for little while.”

“Good to see you, too,” she said, shaking her head.

“And Finn.” Mike ambled over to the bed and stuck out his hand.

Finn eyed it suspiciously, as if it might grow teeth and bite him. After what seemed like forever, he reached out cautiously and took it.

Mike shook Finn’s hand enthusiastically and sat down. “Man, you look well! Can’t tell you how glad I am. Last I saw you, you looked like hell warmed over. That was some serious shit, dude. You need to get better and cook for us again. Scott has been asking about you. We could go for drinks at that bar we went last time. We had a good time. What do you say?”

Finn stared at him, eyes like saucers. When silence stretched, he nodded quickly, and Mike chuckled.

“Agreed, then! Fix this mess and remember we have a date for drinks, okay?” He winked at Finn who kept staring. Mike’s lips twitched and he bounded to his feet.

Finn’s hand shot out and grabbed him, pulling him down. Mike yelped as he sank back onto the hard mattress.

“Norma?” Finn whispered, his voice tight.

“She’s okay.” Mike relaxed. “Still at the clinic, all vitals monitored until she’s given the okay to leave. Don’t worry, man.” Mike patted Finn’s shoulder.

Finn released him, nodding, and Mike went to grab a bag from one of the policemen. He offered it to Finn who just stared.

“A gift,” Mike said brightly.

“
Gift
.” Finn spoke the word as if it was in Martian.

“I thought it might help fix the issue faster.” Mike cleared his throat. “Well, then. Keep up the good work. And don’t forget the cuddling.” He wagged his brows at Ella and left, the officers following him.

Ella stared after him, confused.
Cuddling
. Did he mean...?

“I’ll be going, too,” Dave said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I really hope Mike was right, and that this can help.” His tone made it clear he had serious doubts.

Cuddling
, Ella thought as Dave left the cafeteria and closed the door behind him, leaving her with Finn.

Familiar heat was rising to her face, and her body tingled. What the hell had Mike put in that bag?

***

A condom, at it turned out.
Ah yeah. For the ‘cuddling’ business
. Ella pretended her face wasn’t on fire and got busy unpacking the rest of the stuff from the bag.

Finn gave the condom a long look. Ella turned away and tried not to think about his strained expression. What was he thinking?

But Mike had also packed wine. Good red wine that put color into Finn’s cheeks. And a good take-away of steak and salad. Finn attacked the meat as soon as she put it in front of him. Trust Mike to put some thought in what Finn might be used to eating in his own world. Damn, she should have thought of it herself.

She watched him inhale his food, picked at hers and pushed away the plate with a sigh. Both amused and grateful for Mike’s thoughtfulness, she gave Finn a once-over.

Mike was right. Finn looked better. Those few days of quiet and rest had done him a world of good, despite the nightmares and Dave’s stressful visits. His eyes shone and his lips looked —
kissable
, very kissable and soft and...

Damn
.

“Ella,” Finn said.

Hm?
“Yes?”

His brilliant eyes, very blue in the lamplight, were fixed on her, making her feel warm all over. But then he moved to rise and winced, hand going to the bandage on his chest. “Would you like more wine?”

Get your mind out of the gutter, Ella
. Too early for grabbing Finn and ravaging him. “No, better not.” She gulped the rest from her glass and set it down carefully. “I, um, I’ll wash the dishes.”

She gathered the silverware and the plates and carried them behind the counter to the sink. Finn gathered the glasses and rose, too. Damn he was so handsome, his pale hair glowing in the faint light.

Ella turned on the tap, still looking at him. He turned, their gazes meeting, and her knees turned to water.

“I’ll wash,” he said. “You shouldn’t get your hand wet.”

She looked down at her bandaged hand and her only thought was how much she wanted to kiss him.

Damn, damn, damn
.

He brought the glasses over, lingering behind her, his hand brushing her forearm as he put them on the counter. His scent — so good, spice and caramel, and the heat of his body seared a line down her side.

Damn Mike and his wine.

Finn reached for a towel, his hip pressing against her.

“Please...” she breathed, her voice strangled, and backpedaled when he stepped in front of the sink. “Tell me about Neith.”

He’d turned on the water. Now he turned it off, his back rigid. The glow of his skin, his hair, went out.

Yeah, way to waste the relaxing effects of the wine.

Was she doing this all wrong? Trying to understand and feed her anger, and stressing Finn? Damn, she wished she knew. Maybe a psychologist could help him. But when she tried to imagine Finn seated at the psychologist’s office, spilling his guts, she failed.

“What do you want to know?” he asked quietly.

Too late to back out now
. “Those people at the village you visited. Why didn’t you ask someone else for food? What did you mean when you said it hadn’t been Neith’s fault?”

His hands dropped to his sides. “That’s Neith’s village. That was his sister. Neith... They say he did terrible things. Killed a villager and ran away. Nobody wants to hear his name.”

Something in the phrasing was odd. “They say. What did Neith say?”

“That he loved a girl, and her father didn’t want him. One night they met in secret, her father found them and tried to kill him. Neith killed him instead.”

Ella stood, not knowing what to do next. She was pissed at the villagers, sure — pissed as hell, seething.

Was that enough? Was it worth reminding Finn of terrible times and making him sad?

She stepped closer and put her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his broad back. He twitched and gripped the counter.

 “I’m so sorry,” she murmured against the fabric of his t-shirt. “Neith sounds like he was a good man. Elf. Person.” She inhaled Finn’s scent, listened to the quick hammering of his heart, and closed her eyes.

There was silence for a while, and Finn relaxed in her hold. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Ella waited. “About?”

“The dreams,” Finn said, his voice rumbling against her ear. “That you tried to change my memories. That you were angry for me.”

Oh fuck
. “I don’t know what else to—”

“I wanted to thank you,” Finn said. “For trying to help me.”

But it wasn’t enough, was it? Ella pulled back. Was there any progress? She’d done her best to sound confident for Dave, but as long as Gates were opening, nothing was fixed — and time was almost up. What that meant was clear.

She’d failed Finn as surely as she’d failed Simon.