Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (6 page)

Trudging back home to her apartment, she thought of Finn. There’d been no sign of him this time when the Shades attacked. She climbed up the stairs, cooed to Miss Meow, and went to the bathroom where she laid her weapons in the shower and crouched down to clean them.

She sat still for a long moment. Finn’s absence from the fight worried her, although it shouldn’t have. It wasn’t like he could be present every time the Veil thinned. He was just one person. With the Veil sprouting leaks in more and more places, he’d probably go after the ones he thought important. Important how? What was he looking for? What was his purpose in town?

Settling on the cold tiles to wipe down and hone her knives, she tried to convince herself nothing bad had happened to him. Jumping to conclusions wasn’t a good idea.

Stop worrying, Ella
. He wasn’t a kid, or a kitten like Miss Meow, to be taken in and cuddled. He was a grown man, a good fighter and a driven one at that. He needed no aid.

Well, she couldn’t help it.
Overprotective and a mother-hen
Simon had called her.
So what?
She thought of Sarah, of Simon not telling her he’d been in a relationship for a month, and anger flared.

And with it the pain of his absence. What use was it anyway, cleaning her knives and following the other agents to fight the Shades if Simon wasn’t there? Fighting only to escape by the skin of her teeth, bruised and bloody and not knowing why the hell she was doing it.

Protect the citizens. Yeah
. With all the Shades pouring in, the few Bureau agents could only do that much. If things got worse, they’d need reinforcements. Perhaps even the army would be called in.

She stared at the light reflecting on her blade. Pointless, all pointless. They had to find the source of the problem, the reason the Veil was tearing. Could it be this John Grey?

Dave
. She was sure he knew more than he let on. Simon would’ve made him sing easily; he had Dave wrapped around his little finger.

Damn, she needed Simon by her side. They’d always worked together, since she first arrived at this town and started her training for the Bureau.

Looking down at her filthy clothes, she realized she had to do laundry and soon, but she kept postponing it. Since Simon had vanished, she lived in a strange vacuum, a bubble in time where all she could do was search and wait.

She only had to find him, and the world would be right again, she was sure of it. Clues were what she needed, and there was a place where she might find them.

***

Late next morning she stumbled blindly out of bed, found the bathroom and took a quick shower. She pulled on a knee band, threw on jeans and her favorite purple tee, holstered her gun and sheathed her knives, and set out to visit Simon’s apartment. Dave would have a fit if he knew where she headed, but she hadn’t been called on a case yet. Her free time was her own.

She hadn’t been at Simon’s place in a while — not, in fact, since their aborted fling a year back. Leaving her car down the road, she cautiously made her way through a verdant garden to Simon’s entrance. Elegant, typical of the high-end neighborhood, the building always made her feel out of place, dirty and uncouth. She’d always stuck out like a sore thumb around Simon’s friends. Probably one of the reasons it hadn’t worked out between them. She bet Sarah had fit right in.

Let’s hear it for self-pity
.

Grimacing, she entered the lobby and climbed the stairs to the third floor. A police seal covered Simon’s door, yellow and black, and it brought a lump of fear to her throat. She tore the damn thing off and unlocked with the key Simon had given her back when they’d dated. He’d never asked for it back, and by implicit agreement she’d kept it in case of emergency. Though she’d never thought it would be this.
No, never this
.

Quiet. A fine layer of dust covered the furniture and the orderly rows of books on the shelves. A bunch of withered red roses stood in the vase on the coffee table. Simon’s drawings of nudes covered the walls. A dirty mug and a kitchen towel sat on top of the counter by the stove. Simon’s last breakfast in his apartment.

She looked away.

What was she searching for? Some sort of clue as to where Simon had gone and what had happened to him, but everything looked in place. Nobody had attacked him there; nobody had disturbed the military order Simon kept. His bedroom was cast in darkness, the light from the open door showing his neatly made bed and his slippers by the side. She went in regardless and opened the drawer of his bedside table, rifled through his clothes. Then she stood by the window and looked through the slats at the street below.
What happened to you?

She wandered back into the living room and sat at his small desk. His laptop was missing. Taken by the police to search the files, as per procedure. They’d taken his papers too, the boxes with his notes and bills. She put her elbows on the desk, propped her chin on her hand.
What now?

A folded piece of paper under the leg of the coffee table caught her eye.
A support?
She couldn’t remember the table listing. It was an expensive one, made of massif wood and glass. She bent over and pulled the paper out.

Smoothing it out on the desk, she stared at Simon’s scribblings. Looked like a page torn from a notebook. It was covered in cartoonish characters, circles and dots, as if Simon had it by his side while talking on the phone. Nothing important.

She was about to get up and look around the kitchen, when she flipped the page and froze. She sank back in the chair. A spiral was drawn in the center. She traced it with her fingertip. The pen had been pressed deep into the paper, leaving an indent. In the center of the spiral, a stick figure had been inked, a person, and below black marks. She bent closer and read her name, etched in flowery script. Her hands began to shake. Next to it Simon had written a row of numbers and letters. Her heart began to pound.
A code?

Get a grip on yourself
. It was just scribble paper. He’d used it to prop the table’s leg, for god’s sake.

The table that had never listed. She’d sat with Simon countless times there, talking about the Shades, Ella’s dysfunctional family and Simon’s archaeology interests. Had he left the paper there for her?

Yeah, why would he do that? If he’d found out anything important, the first person he’d have gone to was Dave. And, really, the spiral was one of the most common symbols, a natural design, something Simon must have drawn unconsciously. It meant absolutely nothing.

But what if it did? What if Simon had wanted her to see this?

On a whim, she shoved the paper in the pocket of her jacket. It wasn’t a clue, she told herself, not until she found a meaning to the numbers and letters, although she’d give it a shot. She’d swing by HQ, see if Jeff had any ideas.

But she’d barely stepped out the door when Dave called her.

Chapter Four

Andlangr

Carlton Hospital was huge and built like a maze. She lost time trying to get directions and then trying to follow them. You’d think they’d have signposts in a place that big. Maybe even traffic lights and pedestrian crossings.

At last she found the right place, and there was Dave, sitting in the waiting room and nursing a cup of coffee.

“You took your time,” he grumbled.

“How’s Sarah?”

“Lost a lot of blood. They’re operating now.”

“So how did she escape?”

Dave shrugged.

“Okay.” They’d have to ask her. “Where was she attacked?

“On her way home, in the street. The Shades carved her up pretty badly.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He looked much older than his forty years. His hair seemed to have turned grey overnight. “Did you hear about Greary?”

“The hell? Simon’s uncle?” A cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “What happened?”

“Dead.”

Crap
. “Heart attack?”

He gave her a funny look. “These days? A Shade attack on the institution. Question is: why him?”

Ella sat next to him and tangled her fingers together, stared at the knot. “I think he was an oracle.”

“And Sarah...?”

“An oracle, too.”

Dave grimaced. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Guess so. The Shades have started attacking oracles.”
Damn, Mike
. She had to check up on her neighbor.

“And voyants. Two more agents have gone missing. Nicki and Shawn.”

“I thought Shades didn’t work in an organized manner.”

He shrugged. “Something has changed.”

“Yeah.” The understatement of the year. A thought struck her. “Dave, maybe it’s time you told me—”

Dave cut her off. “Listen to me. You need to get a partner ASAP, or else you’re staying home with police detail.”

She opened her mouth to retort, when a doctor came out of the surgery room, pulling off his latex gloves. “Are you next of kin?”

“Captain David Holborn, police.” Dave flashed his badge. “How is she?”

The doctor nodded. “She’ll be fine. She’ll need to rest.”

“We must talk to her,” Dave said, looking over the doctor’s shoulder at the nurses wheeling Sarah out of surgery. “It’s urgent.”

The doctor sighed and gestured for them to follow. “Five minutes. If she can.”

They were let into her room. She was propped on two pillows, looking pale and drawn. Her face, clean of makeup, seemed very young. Her short hair was mussed.

“Ms Williams, we need to ask you a few questions,” Dave said. Sarah ignored him, turned her gaze to Ella.

“Simon?”

Ella shook her head. “Still missing.” She walked around the bed so Sarah wouldn’t have to crane her neck to talk to her. “Who attacked you, Sarah?”

“Shades.” Her voice was rough. There was a paper cup with a straw on the bedside table, and Ella offered her water. Sarah refused with a shake of her head.

“How did you escape?”

“A man...” She winced, shifted on the bed. “Helped me.”

Finn?
“A blond guy with a bandana?”

Sarah nodded. “He seemed hurt.”

Ella’s stomach roiled. “Hurt how?”

“Ms. Williams.” Dave shot Ella a dark look. “What else can you tell us about the attack?”

“Beware,” Sarah rasped. “The guardians.”

Dave’s eyes flashed. “Ms. Williams...”

“Guardians?” Ella prompted. “What guardians?”

“She’s clearly not lucid,” Dave said, face hardening.

The doctor entered and hovered by the bed. “I’m afraid you need to leave now. She needs to rest.”

Dave cast Sarah one last look and turned to go, shoulders stiff. “I’ll post security outside. Coming?”

“Go on, I’ll see you at HQ,” Ella said. “I’ll ask her a few more questions.”

“Suit yourself. Remember you need to find a partner. I wasn’t kidding.” Dave left the room, his steps fading.

“I said she needs to rest,” said the doctor, folding his arms across his chest.

“And I said just a few more questions.” Ella smiled sweetly. “Alone with the patient, please.”

He scowled and lingered a moment too long, then left the room and closed the door.

“Sarah.” Ella took a deep breath. “I’m still looking for Simon. I need information. For Simon’s sake, tell me, what else did you see or hear?”

Sarah reached out a shaky hand and grabbed Ella’s wrist. “John Grey,” she whispered. “John Grey.”

“You’ve said this before,” Ella said, frustrated. “Have you heard anything new?”

“The guardians.” Sarah let her hand drop and turned her face into the pillow. “My head hurts.”

“Listen.” Ella fought the urge to pace, and bent over the bed so she could keep her voice low. “I really need your help with this. I can’t find any clues to Simon’s disappearance, and you can help.” She licked dry lips. “Please, Sarah.”

Sarah looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “There was this name... Ad Long.”

Ella licked dry lips. “Ad Long?”

“Or Ad Lang. Or something.”

Ad Lang. Adlang? Andl—
No, not possible
. Ella took a step back, her breath knocked out. “Andlangr? The fucking
Gates
? Is that what you heard?”

“Gates...” Sarah’s eyelids were drooping. She was floating on a drug cloud.

Ella shoved her icy hands into her pockets. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. And she hadn’t been expecting it. Why were the Shades talking of
Aelfheim
? “I’ll find Simon. I promise.”

But Sarah was already asleep.

***

Ella flipped her phone open and hit the speed dial as she strode down the stairs and out the hospital. She jogged down the street to her car. A slip of paper on the windbreaker caught her eye.
A fine? Really?

“Ella?” Dave barked from the other end. He didn’t sound thrilled to hear her.
Go figure
. “It’d better be important. I’m in the middle of a crisis here.”

Shaking her head, she snatched the slip and entered her car. Funny how a fine could sting after Sarah’s ominous words and the fear curling tight in her stomach. “Let me guess: more Shade attacks?”

“Yeah.” Dave spoke to someone offline, then grunted in the receiver. “Something you wanted to tell me?”

“Did the powers that be forget to tell you the mess we’re in has to do with
Aelfheim
, or did you choose not to tell me?”

Silence. Dave’s rapid breathing. “Ella...”

She swallowed, made sure her voice was even. “Spit it out, Dave. What else should I know?”

“We’ll talk. I promise.”

“Like we talked half an hour ago? And all these past days?” She bit down on the words that tried to pour from her mouth —
damn you, Dave, you stupid son of a bitch, this is so much bigger than I thought and what the hell are we going to do now?
—and revved the engine. “I’m on my way.”

“I can’t talk right now, Ella.”

“Then when?”

“Just relax, okay? The world won’t end tonight, I promise. Come tomorrow morning and I’ll tell you all I know.”

He hung up before she could tell him what to do with his promises. She punched the wheel.
Dammit
. Was she overreacting? Was she rushing to conclusions? The talk of Gates and
Aelfheim
, what else could it mean?

Many shops looked closed and shuttered as she drove home. A woman ran, her handbag swinging. Late for an appointment or pursued by a Shade? Ella rolled down the window, but the air was quiet.

Great, now she was seeing Shade attacks everywhere. She patted the charms around her neck. They chimed softly, calming her.

Countless worlds hang on the Tree; its mighty roots stab the Grey. Andlangr which some call the Aelfheim, is closest of all, but the Gates have been locked and lost
.

A place she hadn’t heard discussed in years — ever since she’d joined the Bureau. A place grown mythical for lack of contact in the long centuries since the Gates were reported closed. Sealed and hidden, and for good reason, if the stories were anything to go by. Earth had barely avoided total annexation back then. If the Gates opened again...

Who knew the thinning of the Veil would look like a tiny hiccup in the big scheme of things? If Sarah had heard correctly. If it really meant what Ella feared. If worst case scenarios didn’t make the most sense right now.

But as long as Dave refused to talk, there wasn’t much she could do, and she was dead tired. Time-out to lick her wounds.

***