Boreal and John Grey Season 2 (6 page)

He nodded, closing his eyes. Terminating the conversation.

Well, she had to accept it. Somewhere along the line something had happened — though for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what — to make Finn stop talking to her.

And she had no clue how to fix it.

***

“He won’t tell me what’s wrong.” Ella paced a furrow in Mike’s carpet. “Nightmares, flashbacks, letting the damn dragon go free, and he won’t talk to me.”

“Wait.” Mike frowned and froze in the act of combing his fingers through his short hair. “There’s a dragon loose on the city?” He lifted his hands when Ella scowled. “Sorry, sorry. Go on.”

“I’m trying to figure it out.” She stopped at the window, drew the curtain shut, stepped back. “Maybe... seeing guns sends him into a flashback? It first happened when Jeff gave him a gun. Then when Dave shot him. Now again when the agents waved their guns about. He was in the military back in Aelfheim. Something must have happened. But he won’t tell me. And he gets nightmares. Won’t tell me about them, either.”

It shouldn’t hurt so much, but it did.

“But he has your help in his dreams. You’re helping him get stronger, and your magic is joined.”

“Could this be why... why he’s having trouble...?” Ella reeled. She’d been so happy Finn was better, that the elves hadn’t invaded, that she hadn’t considered what it meant not sharing Finn’s dreams — given he still had them, of course. “Mike...”

“What is it, girl? You’re still sharing dreams, aren’t you?”

She bit her lip. “That’s the thing. We don’t.”

“Okay. Calm down.” Mike sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. “What exactly is going on?”

She wished she knew. She dropped onto the couch and rubbed her face. “I haven’t got a clue.”

She’d caught glimpses of Finn’s past from his childhood to his late adolescence. She thought she’d seen him when he’d reached his lowest low, almost an adult, being chased out of villages, bullied by patrol guards. He’d once told her he’d entered the army after that. As a mercenary, probably. Because his protector had died, the winter had been hard and food had been scarce.

But she’d seen no memories of that.

Was Finn keeping those memories from her somehow? He had the right to his own secrets, she told herself. He’d had to bare himself to the bone in the dreams they shared. It had to be a terrifying experience, laying your self open like that, raw, nothing to hide behind. Ella had been inside his mind, had seen it all.

Though at first it hadn’t been that easy. There had been walls around the memories, walls she thought she’d erected, walls she’d fought to break down to be able to speak to him and touch him in his dreams.

Was it possible she hadn’t been the one blocking him? Could it be Finn’s doing? Maybe he was trying to protect himself from the intrusion.

“When did you stop seeing his dreams?” Mike asked, his dark eyes concerned.

“After we returned from the military camp.” She’d shared one dream, where Finn had climbed a cliff and brought her a snow flower. After that... “I get flashes of something terrible, a glowing face, a tongue of fire... Nothing coherent.”

“So, if you’re not sharing dreams, does that mean you’re not sharing magic, either?”

Oh god, that was the question, wasn’t it? “Finn says he’s got it under control.” In fact he said it so often nowadays it was as if he was trying to convince himself more than her. “At Dave’s office, the Veil almost ripped. He mended it. You should have seen it, Mike, it was impressive. He’s so strong.”

But he looked so tired. Dave had commented on it. Mike, too. She wasn’t the only one seeing it.

“Okay, deep breaths.” Mike rubbed her back in soothing circles. “Maybe it’s normal. Maybe you set him on the right path, fixed his magic so now he can keep the Veil from ripping and the Gates from opening. Why are you so worried? From what you’re saying, it sounds like he’s doing fine.”

Fine.
Ella licked her dry lips. “Maybe you’re right.”

“If it’s the flashbacks that have you worried, we’ll look into it. Start by trying to avoid the trigger. If it’s guns, then keep him away from them and see how that goes.”

Yeah, right
. “It’s not that easy. There seems to be a sniper out for us.”

Mike sputtered. “Shit, girl, when were you going to tell me all this?”

“Now. Just did.” She pulled her neckline down. “I’m wearing my Kevlar vest, and so is Finn, so we should be okay.”

“Damn,” Mike whispered. “Okay, so, flashbacks, nightmares, a sniper and a dragon. Just that?”

Ella shook her head and snorted. “Shut up. Only you can make me laugh about this. It’s not funny, Mike.”

Because she had that bad feeling again, the one that told her things were infinitely worse than they looked, and they looked bad enough already.

“I have my talents.” Mike shrugged. “All right, I can see why you’re worried. Then again, this is Finn we’re talking about. A force of nature. And he cares for you. I bet he’ll tell you what this is all about when he’s ready.”

Yeah
. If by then it wasn’t too late.

Chapter Five

Rip

Winter was setting in for good. Not the freak snowstorms caused by the opening Gates, but the slow, measured pace of a season approaching. The leaves, caught in the unnatural weather, hadn’t even turned color, just faded and fallen away leaving the branches bare.

Ella told herself it wasn’t a bad omen or anything. Just nature. That was when she realized she was looking for a sign that the good times would last.

She drew the curtains, hiding the damn trees and the gathering dusk. Mike’s apartment was softly lit with candles and the long table was set for four. “So where’s birthday boy?”

Mike, who was setting a steaming tray on the table, nodded vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. “Scott’s getting his hands dirty. He doesn’t cook often, but when he does, it’s good stuff.”

“And in three days it’s your anniversary, huh?” Ella smiled at Mike who looked cute, his dark hair in spikes, his t-shirt smudged with grease.

“Yeah, Six months, baby, can you believe it? New world record. We’re going out, yes? You’d better have it marked in your calendar in bold, red letters.”

“Yup. Scott threatened to kill me if I don’t show up.”

“And Finn?”

“Scott’s a smart guy. He knows he can’t threaten Finn if he wants to live.” Ella stole an olive from the table and danced away from Mike’s swatting hand.

Mike had made it his life’s mission to show Finn the fun in life. After a couple disastrous experiments, he now went for small, quiet restaurants rather than busy, noise bars and clubs.

“So where’s elf boy?” Mike wiped his brow with the back of his hand and eyed the table critically, a brow raised. “Dinner’s ready and he promised to contribute.”

“He’s been puttering around in the kitchen. Didn’t let me help.”

“Good for him. He promised his patented cassava chips.”

“Yes!” Ella punched the air. Finn had made them a couple of times, after repeated requests. “I love that stuff. I should probably go help him bring the food over.”

Finn chose that moment to open the dining room door, a plate of chips in one hand. He was dressed in black from head to toe and his hair glinted silver. He wore no bandana and his ears showed through, the points grey. He looked damn good.

“Ella, stop drooling and go help Scott bring the rest, yeah?” Mike gave her a nudge, his eyes twinkling.

A light flush rose to Finn’s cheekbones. It made Ella’s heart beat faster. Damn elf was adorable. And hot.

Yet he was shutting her out and that hurt.

“Hey, you’re all here.” Scott came out of the kitchen, holding a huge salad bowl. He grinned. “Ah, the chips are here. Finn, why don’t you put them on the table and take a seat? I’ll bring the wine.”

 Finn nodded but didn’t move. Ella was about to go make space for the salad on the table but caught a tick in Finn’s jaw, lines of pain around his mouth.

Fuck it.
She couldn’t stay pissed with him when he looked like that.

She went to him, wrapped an arm around his slim hips and took the dish from his hands. “You okay?”

He relaxed against her as she led him to the table. He limped badly, Ella noticed with dismay. Worse than usual.

Swallowing her worry, she shoved him into a chair and took her seat beside him. She glanced at his haggard face.
Come on, Finn, open up. Trust me.

“All set,” Scott announced, returning from the kitchen with a bottle of chilled white wine. “Not to brag but I cooked an awesome dinner.”

“With my aid.” Mike sniffed disdainfully. “Don’t worry, boy. You’ll learn under my tutelage.”

Scott laughed and tackled Mike from behind in a full-body hug. “Yes, oh master.”

“Now you’re giving me ideas,” Mike muttered, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Finn leaned back in his chair, a brow lifting.

Scott presented the evening’s menu — marinated grilled steaks, steamed vegetables with ginger sauce, creamed spinach with bacon, a rocket-balsamic salad and Finn’s cassava chips. It smelled heavenly.

“Dig in,” Scott said with a flourish and took his seat. “What are you waiting for?”

“Looks great.” Ella turned to Finn.

He flashed her a brilliant smile and her heart stuttered.

She forced herself to look away.

“Wine.” Mike popped the cork and poured amber liquid in the fluted glasses. “A toast to our wannabe chef and best boyfriend ever.”

The clinked glasses and Ella took over the serving. At least this was something she could do passably well.

The food was great, even Mike had to agree Scott had done a stellar job, and Finn’s chips got the usual exclamations of delight.

“You should open a restaurant and sell just the chips,” Scott declared.

“Without the Shades, that might be an idea.” Mike waved a hand. “I can see it.
Finn’s. Exotic dishes from another world
.”

Ella laughed.

“Any news on the sniper? And the dragon?” Mike served himself more chips.

“Nothing so far. Hey, where’s Missy?” Ella realized she hadn’t seen the kitten around.

“In our room,” Scott said.

“She was acting up today.” Mike shrugged. “Scratched me pretty bad when I tried to catch her. Bled me dry.” He showed the evidence on his forearm.

“Oooh, poor baby.” Scott snickered.

“You should have those scratches checked out,” Ella said, keeping a straight face. “They might be lethal.”

Mike sighed dramatically. “No respect for your elders.”

“By a year.” Scott scoffed.

“You’re not older than me,” Ella shot back. “You’re my little brother.”

“By a month.”

“Yeah, well, a month’s a month.” Ella stuck her tongue out.

Mike sipped his wine, pretending to ignore both of them.

“Talking of older...” Ella said. “How’s Norma? Any news?” The old lady had helped Ella save Finn and he seemed to love her like a mother.

“She’s out of danger, according to the doctors.” Mike sobered. “We could go visit her, huh, Finn? Finn, hey.”

“Earth to Finn,” Scott said, waving.

Finn had been silent the whole time, Ella realized, which was unusual. He’d started to open up when it was just the four of them.

Now he sat staring into space, the food on his plate untouched.

“Hey.” Mike leaned forward. “You’re not eating, my man. The steak’s bloody, just the way you like it.”

Finn flinched. 

“What’s wrong?” Ella muttered.

He rubbed his face. “Headache.”

Damn.
There went the last of her anger, leaving her cold with worry. 

“It’s the change in the weather,” Mike said. “I got one today, too, a sort of tinnitus. A buzzing in my ears that was driving me crazy. I had to take a ton of painkillers.” He rose. “I’ll bring you some.”

Finn nodded. “Thanks.”

“Must be why you limp like that,” Ella said, frowning. “We should go to a physiotherapist. Not a doctor,” she rushed to say. “Just for some massage. It can work wonders.”

“I know a great physiotherapist,” Mike said, returning. “You’ll love her.”

“I’m okay,” Finn said, his jaw clenching. He took the pills Mike offered and gulped them down.

Infernally stubborn.
Ella wanted to punch him, only he looked miserable already.

Come to think of it, he’d been too silent for days now. Too closed off and distant. She thought of the Veil, of the golden lines, of Finn’s struggle to mend the Veil in Dave’s office.

“You get these headaches often?” Mike asked, taking his seat again.

Finn shrugged half-heartedly. “This past week.”

“Season change. Told you. It won’t last long, although you should really go and see my physiotherapist. Uh uh!” Mike lifted a hand when Finn opened his mouth. “No arguing. Now eat before the pills drill a hole in your stomach.”

***

Finn wore a black muscle shirt with the words ‘Don’t Fuck With Me’ scrawled in silver across the front. A gift from Mike, most likely. Not Finn’s style, which tended toward the sturdy, generic variety.

It had been three days since the dinner. Three days without a sighting of the dragon, making her wonder whether Finn hadn’t whispered in the creature’s ear a command to lie low and hide.

Could he do something like that? And why would he?

She hated not knowing what was going on.

Three days of wheedling to convince Finn to visit the physiotherapist. What had broken him in the end, Ella thought, was the promise that the pain in his leg, that old badly healed fracture, would get better.

Which meant the pain had to be near unbearable.

Ella’s heart constricted. She took a deep breath and let it out, took her time watching him as he turned from his vigilance of the open door to the machines at the head of the bed. He was so tense sitting on the physiotherapist’s bed that tendons stood out in his neck.

He reached up, tugged his black bandana lower over his ears, and leaned toward the machines, giving the flashing lights a suspicious look.

Maybe it was time for a vacation. A real one, not a forced time in barracks with soldiers waiting outside in case a Gate opened. The Gates were closed, and the house at the beach sounded better and better every time she took in Finn’s thin face and the dark circles under his eyes.

He wasn’t sleeping well, dammit.

Well, neither was she, torn between her own nightmares and snatches of Finn’s memories with no way of understanding what it was she was seeing. Not with Finn unwilling to explain.

Finn jerked around at the sound of a door opening, half-rising.
So jumpy.

The physiotherapist, a small, pretty woman, smiled at them. “You must be Ella and Finn. I’m Darla.”

“Mike recommended you,” Ella said. “Said you were great with old injuries.”

“Oh yes, that’s my specialty.” Darla approached slowly, her sneakers squeaking on the floor. “Are you okay there? Sorry I left you waiting.” She pulled a stool close to the bed and perched on it. Her blouse was pink with little hearts and her dark hair fell in waves around her face. “Hi Finn, nice to meet you. Let’s see how to get rid of pain, okay?”

Finn sank back on the table, letting out a breath.

Yeah, she was the least threatening person Ella had ever met. Mike had been right as usual. She’d buy him chocolates. The good, expensive kind.

“I get people with all sorts of old injuries,” Darla said, her voice low and soothing. “Some broke their arms as children and never healed right. Others were in accidents and have spine problems. Nerves get affected in such cases, causing pain later on in life. There are ways to make it better.”

Finn sagged a bit more, his grip on the edge of the bed loosening.

“So, where’s the injury?” Darla made no move to touch Finn.
Clever woman.

“My leg.”

“Okay. I just want to look at it, understand what happened. Then you’ll get an x-ray and we can get to work on it.”

Finn hesitated. He glanced at Ella, then at the door. He winced, then bent over and rolled up his pant leg. There it was, the dark, raised scar running from his knee to his ankle.

“Oh my,” Darla whispered, sounding mildly horrified. “Looks like the bone healed badly.”

Ella observed them — her elf, his eyes hopeful, the physiotherapist, gentle, careful — and hid her smile.

Because she was still angry at him. She couldn’t forget that.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and walked to the door. “Yeah?”

“Hey, this is Scott. Mike says I’m to remind you of dinner at seven. At Benedict’s.”

Ella stepped outside into the empty lobby. They were the last customers. “Haven’t forgotten. Your anniversary.”

“Six months. I deserve a Nobel of patience.”

“Funny. Mike said the same about himself this morning.”

Scott snorted. “Ridiculous. I’ve put up with — Mike? Mike!” A crash, a shout. “Hey!”

Cold crept up Ella’s spine. She gripped the phone tightly. “What’s going on?”

No answer.

Shit.
“I’m coming over,” she said, in case Scott could still hear her.

A noise made her spin around.

“Miss Benson?” Darla stood at her office door, wringing her hands. “Please come inside. I don’t know what’s wrong...”

Ella was running before she realized what she was doing. She burst into the office.

It took her a moment to understand that the huddled form on the floor was Finn.  Dropping to her knees, she tried to pry his hands from his ears. “Finn, goddammit, what’s going on?”