Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (60 page)

She touched his forehead. It felt cold and clammy. She brushed soaked strands out of his eyes. “I’m here,” she said, like she’d said in his dream.

A pale grey now, the pattern on his shoulder was settling into a circle with a blossom-like symbol in its center, dots surrounding it. When she stroked his hair back, she found that the intricate patterns on his ears had also faded to a cool grey.

“It’s okay, she repeated, “it’s over.”

His shudders quieted, at last, and his bone-grinding grip on her hand relaxed. The cracks in the air began to shrink. The light diminished.

Ella tugged on him gently and he rolled on his back, his chest heaving, his face wet with sweat or tears — she couldn’t tell. He grunted, head lolling to the side.

No Gate had opened.

“You’re fine,” she said, trying to convince herself first. “Everything’s fine. God, Finn.” She swallowed hard. “So glad you made it.”

Her limbs shaking, she curled on the bed and wrapped her arms around him, held him until his heartbeat slowed. Tilting her face up, she kissed his chin, his jaw, his throat. He made a small sound and closed his eyes. He bent his head toward her, though, giving her access, so she kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his closed eyelids, and when she kissed his mouth, his lips parted and he kissed her back, his hands coming to cup her face.

He kissed her as if she was his first breath of air. When his eyes opened, the silver light was gone.

“I always hoped you’d be real,” he whispered.

Chapter Eleven

Fridha

“No Gates,” Dave said, rubbing his chin. “Not since two nights ago. No lights or strange air movements, no animal parts falling through, no alarms set off anywhere on the compound.”

Ella fought to keep her face blank but couldn’t help grinning. “We did it. I told you we could.” Unable to keep still, she shot from her seat and paced about the dingy cafeteria, waving her hands. “It’s working!” She stopped and pointed a finger at Dave. “So, god help me, if you point a gun at Finn again...”

“Oh?” Dave placed his hands flat on the table. “What will you do?”

“I’ll kill you,” Ella said. “I thought we were clear about this.”

Dave snorted. Finn watched her from his perch on the bed, a brow raised.

“Hey, even robots can cease functioning,” she muttered. “I’ll be so pissed, I’ll see right through you, David Holborn, and then I’ll pull out those strange levers and cogs, and we’ll see if you can serve your winged masters any longer. So keep your paws and bullets off my elf.”

This time Finn grinned. It was startling and bright and, whoa, her heart did little back-flips in her chest.

“Your elf.” Dave’s brows drew together, but the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “I see.” He steepled his fingers and twirled his thumbs.

Ella’s gaze returned to Finn’s face. The thousand megawatt grin had faded but a smile lingered on his lips.

God, he was alive, he was okay, he was better, and as soon as the doctor removed the stitches and gave a thumbs-up about his ribs, Ella would drag Finn to bed, bind him to the bedpost and not let him out for a week.

It’d have to be an iron bed, of course, to keep the Shades away — surrounded by iron chairs and iron whatever-else she could find. Iron-mesh underwear. Rust paint on the walls. Iron cups—

“Ella, are you listening?” Dave gave a long-suffering sigh.

Um
. “Sure I am.”

“Right. As I said, two nights without activity isn’t proof of anything. We’ll be monitoring
your elf
for any indication of the Gates opening again.”

Finn’s smile faded but cautious hope still lit his eyes. Yeah, it made sense they’d need to wait and see, but nothing could dampen her excitement. After the strange convulsions and the change in Finn’s birthmark, the nightmares had lessened, and that was huge in her book.

“Do you know now how the Gates open, son?” Dave turned toward Finn who stiffened. “Do you control it in any way?”

Finn shook his head, fair hair dancing around his face.

“We need to figure out the Gates.” Dave turned to Ella. “Does he bring over what he dreams about?”

Good question
. She thought about it. Finn was observing her, his brows twisted in thought.

“I don’t think so,” she finally said, nodding at Finn. “Am I right?”

He shrugged.

“We always suspected the elves sent these animals through to test the Gates,” Dave said. “That the moths, wolves, dragons and the elves were the best suited for traveling across the Veil. And now it turns out he was doing it all along.”

Finn’s hands tightened on his thighs.

“Yeah, well. Not anymore,” Ella said.

If someone had told her a month back she’d be discussing with her magical-robot boss and her elven partner/boyfriend the workings of magical portals between worlds, she’d have laughed her ass off.

Her boyfriend. Scowling, blue eyes blazing, muscles shifting in strong arms, pale hair framing that lean face. 

With regret she forced her mind back to the issue at hand. Finn’s nightmares that opened Gates.
Right
.

Not all events fit the pattern. Him, crossing while running from wolves. The Gate his mother had appeared in. The magic leaking from him when he’d thought Norma had died and as his birthmark changed.

But why say that to Dave when she had no idea what it meant and when it would only make him suspicious again? So she kept her damn mouth shut and waited.

Dave’s cell rang and he pulled it out of his breast pocket with an annoyed frown. “Looks like we’ll have to continue this discussion later.”

“Sure,” Ella said flatly. “Can’t wait.”

Finn had an odd expression on his face. Pensive. Troubled. Who could blame him? He glanced up when Dave stood and headed to the door.

Ella followed Dave outside, and hovered on the threshold of the cafeteria. Two armed men flanked the entrance, guns raised.

She pretended to ignore them. “Are we good, then? When the week is over and no more Gates open, are we free to go?”

Dave shrugged and shoved the phone back into his pocket. “You can go back to your apartment, but I’ll keep the surveillance for as long as I consider necessary.”

Ella narrowed her eyes. “Suit yourself.”

“You’re welcome.” Dave turned and she caught herself before she reached for his arm, too aware of the guns following her movements.

“Dave, wait.”

He shot her a questioning look over his shoulder. For a robot, he looked too damn human. “Yeah?”

“What does Frida mean?”

A puzzled frown came over his face. His gaze drilled into her and she did her best to look nonchalant. “
Fridha
,” Dave said, the consonants soft the way Finn pronounced them, “is an adjective of the fertility goddess of the northern people. It means beloved.”

Beloved
.

A stupid grin on her face, she turned back to the cafeteria and her elf.

***

The apartment was dusty, but the broken window had been fixed and Finn’s blood scrubbed from the floor. Although she could swear she still saw traces on the tiles.

Or maybe it was all in her memory.

Dave had okayed their return, and had probably sent his report to the Organization already, detailing the whole damn experiment at the base.

Experiment
. She watched Finn limp across the living room to sit on the sofa. The doctor had removed the stitches and had said his ribs were knitting nicely. She couldn’t remember any dreams the past three nights. Had no clue what that meant. Finn had only shrugged when she asked him if he’d had nightmares. In Finn speak, that could mean he hadn’t had any, or couldn’t remember, or he’d been having them every night and didn’t want to talk about it.

As long as no Gates opened, the conversation could wait. At least until she took a shower in her own bathroom, washed her hair with a shampoo that didn’t smell like disinfectant, and put on her own clothes, not the vomit green shirt and pants that made her feel like a terminally ill patient.

Finn bent over, tugging at the laces of his boots, his face scrunching up.

Shit. Get yourself in gear, Ella
. “Let me do that.” She strode over and knelt at his feet, putting her hands over his.

He looked up, observing her, but didn’t move.

“It’s okay,” she said and grinned. “I’m your partner, remember?”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. It made her heart beat faster. He straightened with a grunt.

She unlaced his boots and pulled them off, followed by his socks, letting them drop on the carpet. “Shower?”

“With you?” Finn’s softly spoken words sent scorching waves through her body. He set a callused hand on her cheek, trailed it down to her chin and lifted her face so she looked right into his half-closed eyes. The heat in them sent another flare down her spine.

Jesus
. She gulped. They’d barely entered the apartment, Mike and Scott might pop in any moment to welcome them back, the stinking clothes made her skin crawl and—

Finn stroked a thumb over her lips, ripping her thoughts apart. She pressed herself between his legs and rose on her knees to kiss him.

He gasped in her mouth, his taste —
chocolate and pepper
— filled her senses, and oh god, she could kiss him all day.

Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her onto the sofa. She should worry about his ribs but could only think of how to get closer to him, to feel him against her skin.

Reaching up, she tore off the bandana, shivering when his hair brushed her cheeks, cool like rain. His hands slipped under her blouse, warm and rough, clasping her ribcage.

Not enough. Not nearly
.

She tugged on his shirt, pulled it up, and he obliged, releasing her and raising his arms to let her remove it.
Oh, yes, finally
. She traced his strong chest, the scars, fresh and old, mapped the flare on his collarbones, the swell of his pectorals, the flat stretch of his stomach. His breathing came faster.

“Finn...” She wasn’t sure they’d make it to the shower.

His hands found the hem of her blouse and pulled it up. Reluctantly she let go of him to free herself from the annoying fabric, and then he was fumbling with the clasp of her bra, his eyes darkening with need.

He cupped her naked breasts and bent to nuzzle them. Her eyes closed as her body shuddered with pleasure, small quakes shaking her. He kissed and nipped, his mouth hot and soft, the fall of his hair cool and ticklish, his hands sure around her ribs.

She lifted her arms around his neck, blinking, and found his eyes smiling at her. He placed his hands on either side of her head and lay over her, so her eyes fluttered shut again. She jammed her legs around him, lifting her hips, pressing her bodies together, feeling how excited he was.

“Shower,” Finn breathed.

Who the hell cared about showering? She opened her mouth to say so, when Finn shoved his hands under her, lifted her onto his lap and rose off the couch in one smooth movement.

She yelped and wrapped her legs around his hips. With a soft chuckle, he marched to the bathroom and kicked the door open. She laughed breathlessly, burying her face in his neck.

He stopped in front of the shower stall and she slid down, looking up at his serious face.

“I’ve dreamed—” He winced at the word. “I’ve
hoped
,” he nodded, “of showering again with you.” He didn’t need to say he hadn’t thought it possible. She’d feared the same.

“Finn...” His name was like a charm against evil times and she wanted to say it again and again until she was sure he wasn’t leaving, wasn’t dying.

He swallowed, his eyes shimmering, and put his hands on her waist. He pushed down her pants and panties, following the clothes down until he crouched in front of her and pulled it all off — clothes, boots, socks. When he glanced up again, his eyes blazed with desire.