Master's Blood (The Shifter Chronicles 6)

by M. D. Grimm

  “I don’t know. If Merlin knows, he’s never told me.”

  Poe shook his head in confusion. “That is so strange. How many master shifters are there?”

  “There are about twenty of us.”

  “All different species? I mean―primal spirits. That’s what you called it, right?”

  “Yes, we all have different primal spirits.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “Yes.” Nordik nodded. “But there is something else Merlin told me on his last visit, about a century ago. Something I never believed until now.”

  Poe’s stomach tightened instinctively in worry. “What?”

  Nordik leaned close to Poe’s face, and he barely resisted leaning back. The guy really liked to get into his personal space.

  “He told me that every master shifter has a soul mate. One who, once found, would bond, soul to soul, and become immortal. They would become the master shifter’s life companion.”

  Poe gulped.

  “He warned me to always be on the lookout. Because if I miss him or her, then I lose them. I never believed Merlin until now.”

  Poe closed his eyes and turned away. “Don’t say it.”

  “You’re my soul mate, Poe.”

  Fuck. He said it. Poe tugged his hand out of Nordik’s grip and scooted around to present his back to Nordik.

  “Just stop,” he said. “Nothing you say will change my mind. The only deal on the table is between you and the Agency.”

  Nordik slipped his arms around Poe from behind and hugged him firmly.

  “Don’t be afraid of me,” Nordik whispered. A shiver went up Poe’s spine. He opened his mouth to argue, and Nordik pressed two fingers to his lips. “You are. And most of all, you’re afraid of yourself. I would be good to you, Poe. I promise you that.”

  “I’m an agent!” Poe argued through gritted teeth.

  “And what if you weren’t?”

  “But I am. There’s no changing that.”

  “Humor me. If you weren’t an agent, what would you be?”

  “Nothing,” Poe blurted. It was a deep-seated truth that he never had the nerve to examine.

  Nordik sighed heavily. “You have so much more to offer. You don’t have to be an agent to protect and defend. You are a warrior―”

  “I’m a soldier,” he snapped. He barely resisted struggling against Nordik’s hold. He would only embarrass himself if he tried to break the shifter’s hold. He could use his strength, but he didn’t want to hurt either of them, and the cave was a tight fit.

  “You’re a leader,” Nordik said. “You lead. Others follow. You inspire. And I don’t want you to change. You don’t have to change. I want you as you are. And you will be you even without the title of agent.”

  Poe turned his head and stared at Nordik.

  “Think about it,” Nordik said, using Poe’s own words against him. Nordik released him before crawling toward the entryway. “We should go.”

  Chapter Eight

  For the rest of the day Poe was shown many different places that were equally beautiful and serene. Nordik was like a delighted puppy as he showed off one cherished spot after another. Poe wondered if this was a strange sort of seduction on Nordik’s part. And if it was, it was working. He was thoroughly seduced by what Nordik had to offer.

  Meadows, lakes, mountain trails, all on the back of a master white bear shifter. The colors alone were enough to enrapture him but Nordik also showed him herds of deer, and mother bears with their cubs, and places where the trees grew so tall, it was like they touched the sky. Flowers bloomed cheerfully and lent their fragrance to the air. The air was crisp and clear, the sky an enormous blue dome. It was fair weather that day, and the parks of Montana showed off their beauty, their glory, the reason why they were so determinedly protected.

  Poe continued to pop Advil and by midday he was flagging despite the beauty surrounding him. While he could normally handle missions without rest or adequate food, the added disadvantage of his hand was just too much for even his strong body to handle. He finally had to break down and ask for a longer rest.

  Nordik immediately halted by a stream and shifted into a man after Poe slid off his back. The clear stream rushed over and around large boulders before cascading down a short falls to continue deeper into the forest. There was a strange sort of music to the splash and burble.

  “Forgive me. I am being rude and inconsiderate.”

  “Don’t be stupid. No, you’re not. Everything you’ve shown me… all the places we’ve visited have been...” What word could he use to encompass the perfection around him?

  Nordik smiled, as if suspecting his dilemma.

  Poe shrugged. “I’ll say divine. I’m a nature guy but even I’m blown away.”

  Nordik’s smile turned into a smug grin of vindication. Poe rolled his eyes.

  “Don’t get too big a head, bear.”

  “Of course not.”

  Poe snorted.

  “Allow me to get us some food,” Nordik said.

  “Where? Going hunting?”

  “No, fishing.” Then he shifted again and lumbered over to the quick-flowing stream. Amused, Poe followed him to the edge of the water before sitting. He cradled his bandaged hand and sipped from his canteen, planning to enjoy the show.

  Despite all of the trauma in his life, Nordik had a good head on his shoulders and had a clear sense of right and wrong. He was almost Yoda-like in his view of the world. His devotion and loyalty to his tribe’s descendants and to the shifters under his protection was something not many modern people or shifters had. Even some agents could take tips from him. He didn’t hold it or let it drag him down, all those memories, all those disappointments and losses. Immortality always sounded like a rotten gig to Poe. And yet if Nordik was to be believed, they were soul mates, and if he accepted Nordik then he would also become immortal.

  Poe shook his head. Not happening.

  He fought to ignore the sharp pang of sadness brought on at rejecting Nordik.

  Nordik waded into the water and easily paddled over to one of the large boulders that jutted out over the falls. Fish leapt up the opposite way, making it harder for themselves, as they tried to reach their spawning grounds.

  Clearly, Nordik had fished this way many times before. He exuded patience as he scanned the fish, taking his time to choose the perfect ones. Despite Poe’s growling stomach, he enjoyed watching. He took out a granola bar from his pocket and munched on it, hoping to sustain himself while waiting for fish. Then, without warning, Nordik swiped out his paw and caught a large fish, skewing it with his deadly claws. He slapped it against the rock and bit into it until the fish stopped moving. Then he flung his giant head, sending the fish sailing through the air.

  Poe only had time to gasp before he had a face full of fish. He fell backward laughing and shoved the wet, scaly creature off him. Then he sat up in time to catch Nordik losing his footing and slip off the rock to fall into the water. Poe laughed harder as Nordik poked his head above the surface.

  “You doing okay over there, buddy?” Poe called out to him.

  Nordik snorted a couple of times before climbing back on the boulder. White fur dragged him down, and he shook like a wet dog once he cleared the water. A few droplets reached Poe. Nordik didn’t appear embarrassed at all, he simply kept fishing as if nothing happened.

  That only increased Poe’s respect and admiration. It also made him slightly envious of Nordik’s confidence and pride. Was this what it would be like to be carefree, without burdens? Without the Agency, could this be his life?

  Dangerous thoughts.

  Nordik soon caught a second fish and then a third, each time throwing them at Poe. Poe was now prepared to receive them. Then Nordik slipped into the water—this time intentionally—and swam back to shore.

  “I assume one is for me and the others are yours?”

  Nordik bobbed his head before grabbing one of the fish and chowing down. Poe made a face before chuckling
and built himself a small cooking fire before gutting the fish. Nordik finished his meal by the time Poe had his own cooking. Then Nordik shifted into a man and sat cross-legged across the fire from him. Despite his relentless training, even Poe didn’t think he’d ever be as comfortable naked in the presence of others as Nordik appeared to be.

  “Thanks for lunch,” Poe said as he checked the fish.

  Nordik smiled. “My pleasure. It’s been a while since I’ve been given the opportunity to provide for a mate.”

  Poe gave him a look. Nordik continued to smile and rocked slightly as if to internal music. He peered up at the sky, then at the trees, clearly taking pleasure from merely existing in that moment.

  “You’re sort of Zen, you know that?”

  Nordik raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

  Poe chuckled. “Nothing. Just right now you remind me of meditating yogis or something.”

  Nordik quirked his head to one side, the breeze playing over the ends of his hair. His copper skin looked good under the sun, still glossy from the water. He held his hands together in his lap, hiding his groin from view. There was still too much delectable flesh on display for Poe’s comfort.

  “I have meditated, many times,” Nordik said. “When I am at my lowest, I learn to let go and focus on one singular thing I can control. It has helped me many times.”

  Poe nodded. He determined that his fish was fit for consumption and ate gingerly, not wanting to burn his mouth.

  “I enjoy your smile and your laugh,” Nordik said. “I have a feeling you don’t do either very much.”

  “Not much reason to smile or laugh these days.”

  Nordik nodded. “I am familiar with such times. That is why it becomes more important than ever to find reasons.”

  Poe chewed thoroughly to save himself from responding. Nordik wasn’t wrong.

  “Can you, um, will you tell me about your tribe?” Poe asked, then added quickly, “You don’t have to if it’s too painful.”

  Nordik regarded him silently for a moment, his deep brown eyes conveying so much with only a look. There was so much life behind his gaze, so many memories, so many hardships. Poe still felt the magnitude of his presence, and yet he’d grown accustomed to it. Huh. In only a day?

  “I will, only if you tell me about your kin in return.”

  “So a similar deal as before?”

  “Yes.”

  “Deal, then.”

  Nordik stared at the river. “We traveled freely through the northern lands, between the countries now known as Canada and the US. We were known for our hunting prowess and for our connection with the spirit of the bear.”

  “So you’re entire tribe was bear shifters?”

  “Yes. We had modest contact with other tribes. No one made war on us because they feared and respected us. Over the generations, many wise men and women, what you might call shamans, came to us to learn. Learn how to not only commune but embody nature. How to find and maintain balance with Brother Bear, and Beaver, and Badger, the Winged Ones and the Tall-Standing People.”

  Poe stared, caught away by the wistful melancholy in his tone. He also detected a faint accent, probably stirred up by his reminiscing.

  “We spoke the shared Algonquin language with other tribes. But we also had our own private language we spoke among tribe members.”

  After a moment of silence, Poe asked, “What was the name of your tribe?”

  Despite Nordik’s smile, his eyes were sad. “Clan of the Spirit Bear. Our shaman declared my birth a good omen, and when I became chief, other tribes began to call us that. It stuck.”

  He fell silent. Poe finished his fish. Nordik’s past fascinated Poe and transported him like nothing ever hard, giving him insight into another culture. Nordik’s voice and words allowed Poe to gain a better understanding of this mysterious master shifter. And what he learned, he liked. He also felt like he was falling deeper under Nordik’s spell. That was dangerous, but did he have a choice in the matter?

  “There are still spirit bears in British Columbia,” Nordik said. He stood and stretched, offering Poe a devastatingly wonderful view. “But they are normal black bears born white. As far as I know, I am the only white grizzly to exist.”

  He turned and sniffed the air. “If you are finished, we can leave. I have another place to show you.”

  Poe smiled at the eagerness in his tone.

  “And you can tell me about your family when we arrive.”

  Poe put out the fire and cleaned up as best he could with the river’s help. The water froze his fingers but at least they were clean. Poe found himself growing accustomed to riding the big-ass bear, though his hand still made everything he did cumbersome.

  After climbing up a steep trail, they now sat on a cliff overlooking the tops of hundreds of trees. Sharp mountains lined the horizon in the distance. Despite his fear of heights, he felt comfortable there. He let his feet dangle off the edge, as did Nordik, and he rested his hand in his lap.

  The fact that Nordik was still naked never escaped his notice, but it didn’t completely distract him anymore. Oh, he made sure whenever he looked at Nordik, he focused on the shifter’s face or his chest. And it was quite a beautifully sculpted chest. But he never allowed his gaze to wander as it had at the stream. Or, he didn’t look at Nordik at all. That seemed the best solution.

  Poe kept up his side of the deal and told Nordik about his family as the day turned into afternoon. He’d never talked so much in his life about something that had nothing to do with the Agency.

  “So, it’s my mom’s kin that make up my extended family. My father’s parents are dead, and he was an only child. He moved away from Iceland the first chance he got and doesn’t speak to the other dwarves. Not sure why.”

  “I’ve heard they aren’t very sociable.”

  “Could be.” Poe shrugged. “My dad’s definitely a gruff guy with limited vocabulary.” He rubbed his chin, and the stubble scratched his fingers. He needed a shave.

  “You miss them.”

  Poe blinked. He glanced over and opened his mouth. Then shut it. He looked back at the scenery, at the beauty around him. He soaked it in.

  He’d asked Nordik the same question earlier.

  “Yeah. A lot.” He never knew just how much until that moment. Only now did he realize just how much pushing off his vacation had affected him. His eyes burned. He was tired of the stress, the constant paranoia, the lack of sleep, of real food, of comfort of any kind. He was drained and had managed to pretend he wasn’t, until now.

  He swiped his arm roughly over his eyes, making sure his back was to Nordik.

  “Then why did you become an agent?” Nordik’s voice was gentle, his question quietly asked.

  Poe frowned. “Purpose.”

  Nordik nodded. “Perhaps, since you came from such a large family, you wanted to stand alone. And prove to yourself, and to them, that you could stand on your own. That you didn’t need them.”

  Poe licked his lips. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He glanced at Nordik. “You ever feel that way?”

  Nordik’s eyes were distant, and Poe knew he was looking at something he couldn’t see.

  “No.”

  Poe looked away.

  “My place was always with my tribe. I always knew that.”

  Poe lowered his gaze to his lap. Why did he suddenly feel ashamed? And how the hell had Nordik seen into his mind and wrenched those intimate thoughts and reasons from him? Poe didn’t like it that this shifter seemed to know him so well. No one did. He’d always managed to keep everything internal. Even from his family. How could Nordik see right through him?

  Panic fluttered again. Poe stamped it down. He’d never felt so vulnerable in his life. He didn’t like the feeling, not one bit.

  “We are all different, Poe.”

  Poe felt Nordik’s eyes on him. He stared determinedly at the mountains in the distance.

  “We all have our own journeys to take.”
>
  Poe nodded silently.

  “So,” Nordik said, breaking the heavy silence. “Your fae strength. It comes from your father, yes?”

  Poe stirred himself out of his dark thoughts and nodded. “That’s my guess. But my mom has heavy fae blood as well. She’s from Ireland, after all. But, well, all current humans are actually descended from fae. You probably know this, but according to legend, the fae started to mate with humans and produced offspring. They were dying out. They had no choice.”

  Poe paused. “Too bad the shifters couldn’t do that. I remember hearing tales about a strange sickness that plagued them in the Beginning. Some shifters went extinct.”

  “It really happened.” The shifter stared right into his eyes. “Merlin was alive when it happened.”

  Poe’s eyes widened.

  “Shifters did mate with humans then, Poe. And they did produce children.”

  His mouth dropped open. “But, that’s not—” A sudden thought stopped him.

  “It is possible, Poe. It happened. Merlin told me that Phoenix allowed it to happen. By mating with humans, the offspring managed to gain immunity to the plague. Then Phoenix stopped allowing it to happen, and shifters mated with shifters once more.”

  Poe rubbed his brow. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Who’s Phoenix?”

  “I guess you would call her a deity. The first deity. She is the creator of shapeshifters and, I’ve heard, the mother of Merlin. When I asked him about it, he hedged away from discussing her. I think they had a falling out.”

  Poe simply stared. “A falling out. With a freaking god?”

  Nordik raised an eyebrow, as if what he said didn’t monumentally shift Poe’s world view. “With his mother, actually.”

  “So you’re telling me that there are actually, no joke, ethereal beings that exist in our world right now?”

  Nordik snorted and shook his head. “That’s a silly question to ask someone of my upbringing. Of course there are spirits and beings from other planes of existence. How dull and pale would the world be otherwise?”

  Poe grumbled under his breath before considering the implications of Nordik’s words. “You know what? I’d say all that was bullshit if not for a case I worked on nearly a year ago.”