Boreal and John Grey Season 2 (19 page)

No buttons to press. No seam to open it. How did it work?

In fact, now she recalled, Finn had retrieved another tube, as well — a smaller one. What had he done with it?

A sound from behind the door stopped her breath. A light scuffling and scratching. She whirled around and the mug crashed to the floor, shattering to pieces.

The hell?
Ella’s heart banged as she pushed the door wider, aware she had no weapon on her or even nearby.
Shit.

Then came a tiny meow and a small dark head appeared around the door.

“Missy.” Ella clapped a hand over her mouth, hysterical laughter bubbling up her throat. She knelt. “What are you doing here, baby?”

The kitten purred and butted her tiny head against Ella’s knee until she stroked the velvety head and tufted ears. Miss Meow had grown and Mike fed her well because she’d lost that half-starved look she’d had ever since Ella had gathered her from the streets. Her fur shone.

“I missed you, kitten.” Ella lifted the furball into her lap. Missy radiated warmth like a hot water bottle. “You escaped Mike and Scott, huh? Bet you’re feeling real proud of yourself right now.”

Missy clearly agreed, purring like a truck engine.

A knock came on the door and Ella stepped outside the kitchen and crossed the living room to check through the peephole, Missy hanging like a wet rag on her arm. “Hey, Mike.”

He entered, a frown on his face. “Hey. I can’t find—” He snorted. “Missy, you naughty girl. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“How did she sneak in?” Ella absently stroked the kitten’s head.

“Cats move in mysterious ways,” said a woman’s voice.

Mike spun around, stiffening.

Ella scowled.

Sarah stood at the door, dressed in black leggings, tall boots and a long red sweater. She winked and stepped inside.

Uninvited, again.
Damn!

“Where’s cutie pie?” she asked silkily.

“Having a shower.” Ella put Missy down. “Maybe I can help you?”

“Not really. I’ll wait for Finn.” And just like that, Sarah slunk over to the sofa and lowered herself on it, crossing her legs. “Some tea would be nice.”

“I’m sure it would,” Ella said through gritted teeth. “So would a one-way trip to the moon.”

Mike grinned, arms folded over his chest.

“Don’t be like that. I report to John Grey and I want to hear about his progress.” Sarah brushed dark hair from her forehead. Diamond studs twinkled on her ears. She lifted a penciled brow. “What happened to you?”

What? Oh.
Ella touched the scorch marks on her jaw from the Ettin attack. “Nothing.” The ichor had reddened the skin on her arms. Her wet hair hung limp on her shoulders, soaking her t-shirt. She probably looked like a half-drowned rat.
Dammit.
In the face of Sarah’s perfection, Ella made a strategic decision. “I’ll make you tea.”

To her annoyance, Missy bounded over and rubbed herself on Sarah’s legs. Why the stupid kitten liked Sarah but not Finn was beyond Ella.

Or maybe Missy had gotten over her dislike for Ella’s favorite elf?

A hiss made her halt on her way to the kitchen. She turned. The kitten arched her back and flattened her ears, turning sideways in a show of intimidation.

Nah, seemed not. The enemy was a slim figure dressed in draw-string pants and a grey t-shirt.
Finn. Of course.
He’d frozen in the act of pushing his wet hair off his face, taking in the scene.

The kitten danced backward, her black fur rippling.

“Stop it, Missy,” Ella hissed between her teeth. “Why don’t you go bite Sarah, huh?”

“Glad you could join us,” Sarah said, running an appreciative gaze over Finn, which made Ella want to punch her so badly her arms cramped.

God, Finn looked bad — pale and in pain, holding himself stiffly.

 “I’ll take Missy back,” Mike muttered and scooped the kitten up, wincing when she dug her claws into his arm. “Call me if you need help with anything.”

Like throwing Sarah out the window.
“Thanks, Mike.” She turned back toward the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

Through the open door she could hear Sarah asking Finn questions about the Veil, about the Gates, about the magic, and Finn’s silence, just as eloquent.

When she returned five minutes later with their hot beverages and painkillers, Finn still stood at the far end of the room, leaning against the wall, hair dripping all over the floor, his feet bare.

“We had a deal,” Sarah was whispering, her face a crimson. She jabbed a manicured finger at him, the nail blood red. “You said if I give you info you’ll help me. I don’t take kindly to being lied to, elf.”

Why was he so quiet?

“Finn, are you okay?” Ella put the tray on the table and straightened. “What’s going on?”

“I’m fine,” Finn said.

Right
. She rounded on Sarah. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. Just that I keep hearing this word from the Veil — a name? I think I’ve heard it before. Isthelfinn.”

Oh crap.
Ella’s gaze snapped back to Finn, the stillness of his features, the paleness of his lips. She hadn’t told him, but now he knew.

He’d suspected it, but only now he knew for sure: the attacks from the Veil weren’t random; the Shades had a name for John Grey.

His.

***

“The headaches have started again,” Sarah said, blowing on her tea.

Finn nodded, perched on the old armchair. He’d taken the painkillers without a comment. Whatever Sarah and Mike felt, he seemed to feel it tenfold.

Yet it was odd, seeing the two of them sharing the same woes, their heads bent over their mugs.

The room was bathed in low light from the two standing lamps on either side of the couch. The heavy curtains were drawn, keeping the day out.

“But you still haven’t found a way to fix the problem,” Sarah muttered. “To repair the threads, and the music.”

Finn shook his head. His pale hair fell forward, hiding his eyes. “Tell me about Jotunnheim.”

“What for?”

“I have a feeling,” Finn said, “that another seal will break soon.”

“The seal of Jotunnheim?” Ella muttered. “How bad will that be?”

Finn pressed his lips together.

Aha. That good.

“Do you know anything about the Divine Frenzy?” Finn whispered.

Ella froze, images from his dream hitting her.
Corpses. Blood. A gun.

“You talking about the Aesir and their supposed talent?” Sarah scrunched up her nose. “What about it?”

“What is the Divine Frenzy?” Ella mumbled. “What can they do with it?”

Sarah shrugged. “Make you crazy? I haven’t looked into it.”

“Can you find out?”

Sarah huffed and leaned back, uncrossing and re-crossing her long legs. “I can’t see how this is helping,” she said, giving Finn a suspicious look. “I keep feeding you intel but you don’t seem to be doing anything.”

Finn said nothing, gripping his mug.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Ella said conversationally. “It’s magic, not home delivery. It’s not easy.”

“And what would you know about magic?” Sarah purred, pulling a packet of cigarettes from her bag. “You’re just Finn’s sidekick, making him his coffee and warming his bed.”

“Jealous, are we?” Ella tried for light but anger was burning inside her chest like a wildfire. “I bet you’d love to make his coffee and warm his bed. And you pretended to love Simon. He’s not even in a grave yet, and you’re all over Finn as if—”

“Me, all over Finn? You’re delusional.”

Ella found herself on her feet, red misting her vision. “Am I, now?”

Something shifted around her, snagging on her hands, threading through her fingers. Pain started behind her eyes, her pulse racing. She closed her fists and a whine went through the room.

“Ella!” Finn shot to his feet, his eyes wide. “
Helgrind
. Don’t pull!”

Sarah jumped up, teetering on her heels, flailing. “What the hell?”

The golden threads criss-crossed the room, vibrating, a bright line caught on her hand. She moved her fingers, half-blinded, and felt every bone in her body hum in response.

Finn grunted and stumbled. “Slow.”

Okay what the hell had just happened and what did he mean? She stepped back, the thread tightening, the tension in the room rising to a screech.

“Don’t pull,” Finn breathed. He’d landed on one knee. He shook his head, silver hair dancing. “Untangle yourself.”

“How?” Panic swelled in Ella’s chest. “What do I do?”

“What the hell...” Sarah was inching toward the door, her face pale. “My head is about to burst. Stop!”

“Can you see them?” Ella called to her. “Can you see the threads?”

“I can hear it. The screeching.”

“Ella,” Finn whispered, grimacing. “Let go of the thread.”

“I don’t know how.”

He got back to his feet and staggered over to her. He caught her arm. He had that deathly pallor that told her he was struggling with something — the threads, trying to fix whatever it was she was damaging. His hand inched down her arm, clasped her fingers, and some of the pressure left.

Light was rising from his skin, like steam, and his eyes closed. He swayed and when he looked up again, his eyes were silver. The thread twanged and trembled, lifting off her finger.

A hush went through the room — a release of tension.

Her head hammered. She stepped back, dropping onto the sofa, dragging Finn down with her. She wiped a hand over her nose and grimaced at the smear of blood. Okay, weird, but she had more pressing matters to consider when Finn bent over, his face twisted in pain.

“Hey.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Finn?”

“I’m okay,” he whispered.

Yeah, right.

“It’s quiet now.” Sarah approached, hands held up. “Is it over?”

Hopefully, yes. Whatever it had been. Had the magic in the Veil changed again? It somehow didn’t seem impressive enough, not compared to last time a seal had broken.

Sarah stood behind the armchair, her green eyes wide. “Okay, now, what happened? What was that?”

Hell if Ella knew. She wanted Sarah to go away so she could work this out, ask Finn, or maybe just hit her head repeatedly on the table — the odds of getting an answer were even.

“You said something about threads,” Sarah pressed, her hands gripping the back of the armchair. “And Finn told you not to pull.”

“Yeah.” Ella licked her dry lips. “No idea what he meant.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “The room shook. The screeching almost burst my eardrums. You got a nosebleed. Finn wept blood. Cut the crap, okay?”

“I don’t know what the hell happened,” Ella snapped. She wasn’t lying, either. She wiped blood from her mouth. “Thanks for the visit. I’m sure you can find your way out.”

Sarah sighed and shook her head. “Okay, let’s try this again. I’m going to help you clean up, we’re going to have something to drink, and we’ll talk about this.”

Oh sure.
“Knock yourself out,” Ella muttered, too tired to care.

“Just a second.” Sarah stepped out into the corridor, and Ella heard the water running in the bathroom. Sarah returned with a wet cloth. “Here. Clean yourself up.”

Ella accepted it without a word, wiping her nose and mouth, then passed it to Finn. Damn, Sarah was right. A bloody tear had rolled down his cheek. A broken capillary formed a crimson fleck in his eye.

God, she felt groggy and her head spun. Was this how Finn felt most of the time? It was a wonder he could stand, let alone do everything he did.

Sarah rattled things in the kitchen, and Ella didn’t have the energy to go, grab her and throw her out. What was she doing?

By the time Finn had cleaned up and folded the stained cloth, placing it on the coffee table — Jesus, how could he be so tidy at a time like this? — Sarah was back with fresh coffee and tea. She replaced the mugs in front of them and Ella wrapped her icy fingers around hers.

“Thanks,” she muttered as Sarah puttered around the living-room. “What are you doing?”

“A few things fell.”

Ella shook her head, then decided it wasn’t such a good idea as the pain behind her eyes spiked. “Things?”

“Books from the shelves. A rug that was draped on the back of the sofa. Told you the room shook.” She went on straightening the apartment, each thud and screech echoing in Ella’s skull.

“Leave it.” Ella really wanted to curl up and close her eyes until the damn headache faded. She was trying to decide if this was just another nightmare, when a sudden spotlight fell on Finn.

Golden light, spilling across the apartment, making the coffee table glow, the steel sugar container glint.