Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (42 page)

No, impossible. Ridiculous. Absurd
.

So awful it was almost funny.

Because if it were true... Well, that would make her a descendant of King Sirurd. Of Sirurd’s odd daughter.

And her husband, John Grey.

Chapter Seven

Stars

“Was that your theory? That I’m a descendant of John Grey and Sirurd’s daughter?” Ella started the car. “The book doesn’t say if they had children, but I guess...”

Finn flicked her a bewildered glance. “The book from the library?”

Oh. Right
. Sheepish, she avoided his gaze as she pulled out of the parking lot and into the street. It was Mike she’d shared this with. “The Grarsaga, yes. King Sirurd’s daughter was apparently wed to the mysterious John Grey, at the insistence of the Light elves. And the name my mother mentioned...”

“Sirurdsson,” Finn whispered. “You think you’re his descendant.”

Well, now she thought about it more calmly, it sounded like six kinds of crazy. Just because the name fit, that didn’t mean it was true. “Nah, probably a coincidence. I got stressed. My mom does that to me.”

He nodded. Heavy silence settled over them as they approached their neighborhood.

“So what was your theory, then?” she wanted to know.

Finn glowered at the road ahead. “Changeling.”

“You thought I was changed at birth.”

He shrugged. “No, I thought your mother might know of any such stories in your family.”

“You thought I was a descendant of changelings. Dave said the elves experimented on children.”
Nightmares, snatchers. Returning the children mad and sickly
. “Why?”

“To give them magic.” Finn spoke the words as if it was self evident. Well, not to her.

“How? Why?”

He shrugged. “To make them more like us, perhaps.”

“So you think that’s why I share your dreams. Because I have some magic in me.” But why would they want to make humans more like them? Unless this stabilizing ability Dave went on and on about had something to do with it? “What if—”

A dark cloud enveloped the car. The metal groaned, the springs creaked. The wheel was jerked from Ella’s hands, and she slammed into the door.

“The hell?” She blinked dazedly. Finn was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him. Her ears rang.

Then her door was wrenched open and a clawed hand reached inside and grabbed her. She resisted, feet kicking at the pedals. Finn had her wounded arm, fingers digging in her flesh, and the pain sent sparkles dancing in her vision.

He gasped and released her as he was pulled backward, out the other side of the car.

Shades
. They were right at an entry to the Veil, its torn vapors filling the car. They had Finn.

This was really starting to piss her off, and she hadn’t been in a good mood to start with. So she had powers? So she was Joan Grey or something?

She’d show the bastards.

Drawing a knife from her belt, she slashed at the claws coming for her again and grinned at the screech of pain it caused. Climbing over the seats, she exited from the other side of the car, and found Finn struggling in the hold of two massive trolls.

“Hey, whoreson. He’s mine.” Adrenaline pumping faster and faster, she let loose two knives, finding her targets, and grabbed Finn’s arm as they disintegrated. The Veil pulsed around them, sucking them. They needed to get out.

A goblin crept out of the throbbing darkness and Ella let go of Finn to dispatch the ugly critter back to hell. Finn stabbed and cut another one down, and by the time she rejoined him, a third one had snuck behind him. She cursed it as she flicked her blade through its gut.

Turning, she found Finn regarding her with a light lift of his lips. “Whoreson?” he quoted.

She shrugged, grinning, ignoring the burning in her arm, and nodded at the light filtering through the cloud. The car loomed ahead; their means of escape. “I guess this Old Norse business is starting to get to me. Come on, let’s head back home.”

***

Neither of them talked the rest of the way. Her arm ached like a mother and she hoped she hadn’t reopened the wound with all the pulling and hitting. The stinking Shades were growing resistant to iron like viruses to antibiotics.
Damn pests
.

Finn sat with his gun in his lap and a knife in his other hand, gaze flicking in every direction. What if he was right? What if there was something to his changeling theory? What if Sirurd’s daughter was a changeling? She’d have to check the book.

If the Shades or the wolves didn’t attack them again.
Dammit
. She now knew how superstars felt. No privacy.

Adrenaline still pumped and her heart raced as they rode the elevator. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. She was aware of Finn’s body heat, his breathing rhythm, his scent, the glitter of his eyes in the dim lighting. Aware of the way her body tightened, the way her mouth tingled at the memory of the one kiss they’d shared.

He turned toward her, letting out a puff of air, and licked his lips. God, was he doing it on purpose? He had a smudge on his cheek; she reached up and wiped it, fingers brushing velvet skin.

His breath caught on a gasp, loud in the quiet, and he leaned into the touch. He reached out, his hand hovering so close to her jaw she felt its warmth. Her hand ghosted down his chin to his throat, feeling the thundering pulse there, then to his chest, covering his heart.

“Ella...” His voice was strangled.

Oh god, what was she doing? She pulled back her hand; he caught it, pinned it back to his chest, against his heartbeat. Dipping his head, he pressed his forehead to hers, his breath caressing her lips.

Then they were kissing, his lips hot and sweet, his body shoving her against the elevator wall, a solid barrier.
Oh lord, at last!

His eyes opened and he pulled back, grimacing. “
Faen
. You don’t want this.”

What?
Trying to catch her breath and get her brain to work, Ella considered this. Well, she’d pushed him away the last time, hadn’t she? What the hell had she been thinking? “Don’t you dare stop,” Ella said. “I do want this. Very much. More than anything—”

His mouth covered her lips, bruising, his teeth biting lightly. His hands circled her waist, and his chest pressed her into the wall. A fire leaped in her veins. She slid her fingers into his hair, silken strands slipping through them.

Mine
, she thought, her heart tripping.
Mine
.

The elevator doors opened and she couldn’t move, couldn’t think beyond Finn’s taste, the feel of him. He took a step sideways, pulling her along, and together they stumbled into the corridor. He backtracked until he hit the wall and she wound her arms around his neck, unable to stop kissing him.

But he moved again, pushing her, following her, his arms around her, until she slammed into the apartment door.

Panting in her ear, he whispered, “Keys,” and she patted her pockets until she found them and passed them along.

Cursing softly, every warm exhalation on her neck making her shiver, he unlocked the door and they tumbled inside. Finn gripped her waist and lifted her off her feet with ease, striding into the living room. He let her slide down on the sofa, and she tugged him down with her, needing to feel him cover her body. He complied, stretching on top of her, keeping his weight on his hands, his soft hair sliding forward to tickle her cheeks.

“Finn...” Her chest ached with joy. She wanted him closer, skin to skin. “You’re overdressed.”

He smiled down at her —
god, so beautiful
— and nuzzled her throat. “You really...” He pressed hot kisses down her collarbone and she shivered. “...want me?”

Was he kidding?

“I love you,” she said, her voice shaky and her heart raw, and oh lord, hadn’t she meant to keep those words locked inside? How had they slipped out, burning and aching?

Eyes closing, he groaned, a rumbling against her belly, and he tapped two fingers against his chest — like he’d done after the Shades’ attack at the apartment. Did it mean something?

With a shrug of his shoulders, he got rid of his jacket and sat up to take off his shoulder holster. God, she’d never wanted anyone like this. She couldn’t help slipping her hands under his t-shirt as he stretched to take it off, feeling the hard muscles shifting and rippling on his stomach. Then, impatiently, he tore at his shirt, the buttons popping off and falling like rain. He yanked it off. One of the bandages wrapped around his forearms was coming undone.

Holy mother of god, she’d never get tired of seeing him bare-chested. And this time she was allowed to touch. As he leaned over her, her fingers skimmed the solid planes of his flanks up to the swell of his pectorals and his padded shoulders. In one swift movement, she reached up and tore the bandana off his head. His hair spilled forward, catching the colorful lights from outside the window.

They hadn’t checked the apartment, or locked the door.

She didn’t give a flying fuck. She’d die happy. Probably wouldn’t even notice.

“Please...” Finn’s fingers trailed down her throat to the v-line of her blouse. “Can I...?”

Can you what
, she thought, dizzy with desire, but nodded anyway.

He jerked the hemline, tearing the blouse like thin rice paper. She yelped. He grinned, teeth flashing. His eyes darkened, pupils dilating, staring down at her black bra, the swell of her breasts above it.

Shit, she couldn’t believe this was happening, at last. She touched his face — so cat-like, and his face with the wide-set eyes, the small mouth. She traced the black patterns on his ears.

“Your tattoos,” she whispered.

“Majority marks,” he said, a hand trailing up the strap of her bra. “Can I... can you...?” He tugged at the strap, his body shifting against her, his arousal unmistakable. “Will you...?”

Another tug and the strap broke.

He was going to tear off all her clothes, and he was still dressed.
Unacceptable
. She took his hand in hers. “Pants. Off.”

 He blinked, cheeks flushed, chest heaving. Casting one longing look at her slipping bra, he sat up and pushed down his pants, leaving only his briefs. Black, hugging his narrow hips, stretched tight over his hard-on.

Could one self-combust with desire?

Impatiently, she pushed down her pants, reached up to undo the clasp of her bra, and his hands were there, touching hers, pulling off the black material, freeing her breasts.