Read Boreal and John Grey Season 1 for Free Online

a joke. Then she waddled over, keys jingling in her hand, and unlocked the door.
    Finn stepped out. His clothes were a mess. His cargo pants were ripped and muddy, and the white t-shirt was stained so many colors she couldn’t begin to image what he’d rolled into. And he was barefoot. Ella shivered just by looking at him, but he seemed unaware of the cold. In fact, he didn’t seem very aware of anything. He swayed where he stood.
    “Hey, careful.” She grabbed his arm and guided him toward an empty chair, surprised at how skinny he was. He’d moved so gracefully when he fought, she hadn’t noticed.
    But when she pushed him down to sit, he resisted. “I need to go. My knives.”
    “Do you have them?” Ella turned to Martha who sighed.
    “Yeah, I got them.” Martha went to retrieve the two bowie knives from a locked drawer. She handed them over, scowling. “If this costs me my job here, or a promotion...”
    Ella handed the knives to Finn who sheathed them at his sides. “It won’t.” She gestured for Finn to follow. “We’ll be on our way.”

    ***

    Ella kept an eye on Finn as they exited the station, but he didn’t stumble and kept his gaze straight ahead. Wrapped in her leather jacket, with her boots and snug, warm pants, she felt cold just looking at him in his thin t-shirt and bare feet.
    The first thing she did upon entering the car was turn on the heater. Finn belted himself in when she told him to. Sniffed suspiciously at the air, jerked when she turned on the radio.
    “I’ll take you home,” she said. “Give me your address.” She waited, the heater blasting hot air inside the car.
    Finn didn’t reply. His hands clenched in his lap, against the dirty fabric. He had long, graceful fingers, but they were scratched and covered in grime where the ichor hadn’t burned them. Traces of silvery lines rippled on his skin, like the ones she’d noticed on his forearms the first time.
    “What are those? Tattoos?”
    He shoved his hands under his armpits, hiding them.
    “Thank you, by the way,” she said, staring at his profile, the slightly hawkish nose, the pale eyebrows drawn together over intense eyes. “For saving my ass. Did you just happen to pass by when the Shades attacked me?”
    He grimaced. “I follow the thinning of the Veil.”
    “Do you work for someone?”
    He shook his head. Made sense. If he did, he wouldn’t need to steal, would he?
    “Been hunting alone for a long time then?”
    He nodded. So this was how the conversation would go. “Why are you here?” Ella asked.
    “The Veil.”
    Ah, monosyllables and repetitions. Fun . And it couldn’t be that simple. She forced on a smile. “Hey, relax, I won’t bite, okay? I’m just going to take you home. What’s your address?”
    He clenched and unclenched his hands, let out a breath. “Collin Park.”
    “That’s not an address.” But she set off anyway. Maybe in Finn-speech that meant ‘Please drive me to Collin Park, I live nearby, thank you.’ Keeping one eye on the road, she shot him the occasional glance, hoping to catch a shift in his expression. “There was an attack there today. Heard about it?”
    Again he said nothing and generally kept a sullen silence as she drove. She’d somehow expected her savior to be more interested in talking to her. But he didn’t seem curious at all, hadn’t asked a single question. His silent, forbidding presence grated on her taut nerves. She’d been used to Simon riding shotgun, grinning and cracking jokes, or recounting his day on their way to the gym or a bar.
    She tried hard to stop thinking of Simon. She failed.
    Collin Park came into view. Police cars were parked outside, and the area was cordoned off.
    “Left,” he rasped, surprising her, and she turned into a narrow street with uniform buildings, modern concrete walls, chrome and glass. Offices and stores.
    “You live here?” she asked, slowing down, craning her neck to look up at the reflections in the endless