by M. D. Grimm
He moved his entire body to the left, trying to use the momentum to wrench the knives from her grip. She anticipated him and moved in the same direction, slipping her hands off his handle. Before she could find better foundation, Poe used his momentum, swung around, and brought the axe blade down. Right into her back. She screamed. She fell to the ground and rolled with her fall, coming up in a crouch. Her face turned gray, sweat pouring, her mouth pulled in a grimace.
He didn’t get his axe in as deep as he’d wanted. She’d continued to move, making what should have been a paralyzing blow, only a slice to the skin. It was still a deep cut, and she would bleed to death if the blood wasn’t staunched.
She gasped for breath, shaking with pain. He charged. She brought her knives up, and he deflected her thrusts with his axe. She was tiring quickly now, and he saw an opening. He used his full strength to shove her in the chest with his handle, gripped horizontally, one end in both hands. He heard something snap. Her collarbone? She fell hard but kept her grip on the knives.
He raised his axe. She snarled at him.
“Lover of monsters!” she spat.
Poe’s lip curled. “I have no love for you.”
He nearly brought the axe down, but another knight burst out of nowhere and charged him like a bull. He couldn’t change his stance quick enough. The knight collided with him, and they both slammed to the ground. Poe’s axe flew from his grip. This knight was a man resembling a pig. He was overweight, sweaty, but put his weight where it mattered most.
The knight gripped his head and slammed it against the ground. Agony ripped through Poe’s skull as his vision spun, and little stars erupted before his eyes. In reflex, he swung his fist at the man’s stomach. Being dizzy, he couldn’t use all his strength, though it was enough to get the knight off him. The man gave a grunt of pain and toppled to the ground. Poe rolled over, fighting back the nausea, the throbbing in his head. His wounded hand wasn’t too happy with him at the moment, either.
“Don’t let him go! Stop him!” the woman said.
Pudgy hands grabbed his shoulders. Poe snarled and wrenched his gun from his holster. He kicked his feet out, using his own weight to topple back to the ground. He also overbalanced the knight, who fell with him, collapsing on top of him. The knight splayed over him on his stomach, and Poe, vision still spinning, grabbed the knight’s collar with his wounded hand, despite its protests. He rolled them over, pinning the knight with his full strength. Then he pressed the barrel of the gun into the knight’s nose with the other.
The man froze, pale eyes going wide, his blond hair plastered to his forehead. He smelled rank, like he hadn’t bathed in days. His pale skin glistened with sweat.
“Smart,” Poe said, rasping. He glanced at the woman, who didn’t seem able to move. She was dying, and she knew it. Her eyes were full of such rage, and Poe was sure his own looked similar.
“What are you all doing here?” Poe asked the knight under his control.
The knight whimpered.
“Answer me!”
“I don’t know!”
Poe grimaced at the ear-scratching whine. It did nothing for his poor head. The pain in his hand was screaming, and it was costing him to keep a firm grip on the collar. But he had no choice, he needed answers.
“I wasn’t told. I just follow orders,” the knight continued. Poe didn’t believe him. Not for one second. He kept an eye and ear out for others while watching the knight carefully. He realized that not even creature sounds could be heard. It was silent except for their harsh breathing and the woman’s dying pants. That put Poe on edge. It was as if the forest itself knew that evil was in its mist.
Poe’s vision finally settled. He looked into the knight’s cold eyes. The man suddenly smiled.
“What?”
“You are so stupid,” he crooned.
“Am I?” he said softly. Five other knights came out of hiding. Poe knew then that some strange magic was at work to make them nearly invisible to his senses. Arcas. It was all Arcas. The bastard. The knights’ nature-inadequate clothes were in varying states of disarray, and they all looked like they hadn’t had a good meal in a few days. Arcas really was hard on his followers, if he was indeed the one to send them out here. But Poe had never known knights to be able to organize without their leader directing all their movements.
They stared at each other. Poe recognized the knight he’d first encountered. The man was slightly hunched over, using a walking stick. His skin was tinted gray, and Poe found it amazing that he’d survived this long without medical treatment.
Poe lowered the gun before shoving away from the knight. He slowly stood, swaying slightly. The piggy man stood and took a couple of steps back. Then, before any of them could react, Poe aimed his handgun and shot the piggy knight right in the family jewels. The man fell with a howl of agony as the others surged toward Poe.
He used all the rounds in his gun. Some knights dodged, some were hit. None was a kill shot. They just came too damn fast. Once empty, Poe dropped the gun and lunged for his axe. They were quick, but he was seasoned, and they’d revealed themselves. He pushed back the pain, the fear, the nausea. He pushed it all away to the back of his mind and focused on survival.
Poe caught two of them in the arms before his sight started to fail. He hissed and swung toward the broken knight messing with his vision. He shoved another knight out of the way, and before his eyes could completely fail him, Poe swung his axe at the knight. The man didn’t move quickly enough, and the axe caught him right in the chest, killing him instantly.
Unfortunately, even as Poe swung around toward the rest, something hit him in the back of the neck that burned. The jolt traveled right to his brain and his nausea became more pronounced. He staggered away and gasped. What the hell…?
Two knights held long, heavy chains of pure iron. They wore gloves, of course, since they were also allergic to the cursed metal. Pure iron affected humans with manifested abilities the same way silver interacted with shifters. They were anathema.
“Fucking cheats,” Poe said.
They all grinned and attacked. He could only do so much. Then they all used chains of pure iron against him. They struck again and again, burning him, causing his strength to fluctuate. Causing him to weaken, to grow ill. Then one lucky knight managed to swing her chain and wrap it around his throat. Like an electric jolt, Poe dropped and lost his axe once again. Then they were kicking him, striking him with iron, and he was choking, fading.
Fading.
“Tie him up,” an oddly familiar voice said.
Then Poe passed out.
Nordik ran as fast as he could, weaving agilely between the trees, thundering across the ground. His nose, filled with Poe’s scent, led him to a small clearing where an obvious battle had taken place. He could smell blood and noticed the trampled grass. There was a definite indentation on the ground, indicating someone had lain there. The puddle of blood suggested someone had also died there. He sniffed the ground. He wandered around the area for several minutes, creating a very clear picture in his mind. Poe had been taken. Nordik lifted his face to the west. One hour. The meadow. Losing what he loved most in the world.
Nordik’s muscles bunched and his fur stood on end. A harsh snarl bubbled out of his throat. They would all feel his vengeance. He would bleed them. Rip them. There would be no survivors. No one. No one took what was his.
Nordik scanned his surroundings and came to a decision. If he was going to be smart about this, he couldn’t rescue Poe alone. Even he needed help. He didn’t know how many knights were in his home. Nordik stood, his massive bulk supported by his back legs. He threw back his head and let out such a harsh and ear-piercing bellow that it was heard for miles around. Animals fled, forest shifters cringed, and even those in Haven quirked their heads, faintly hearing the sound in the air. It was a call to those who followed Nordik, to those he led. He called for an army. Every bear and bear shifter within hearing range came to his aid.
Chapter Twel
ve
Poe wanted to vomit and fought against it. They’d gagged him so he would only choke to death on his own puke. They’d also tied him up with rope but only after they locked a pair of iron bracelets on his wrists. Fucking bastards, fucking cheats. Despite his hatred for their ilk, even the Agency forbade the use of iron against their foes. The iron not only burned his skin, bubbling each layer away, sinking ever closer to his bones, it sapped his fae strength. He still had muscle to throw around but altogether he felt like shit. He sweated and trembled with allergic sickness.
That wasn’t enough for them, no. They still found the need to kick him in the stomach. Repeatedly. And didn’t that just do wonders for his vomiting predicament? They also stomped on his legs, and one of them grabbed his injured hand and wrenched it hard. He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears and bit down on the gag, resisting the urge to scream.
“He’s a tough one, all right,” said a woman near his head. “I’ll almost be sad to kill him. I would love to see what does make him scream.”
“Cutting off his testicles would!” shouted a man near his feet. The other five gathered around laughed uproariously.
Poe clamped his legs together tightly, not at all convinced they were simply joking. They were the same ones to ambush him, and apparently they’d bound up the wounds he’d given them. They were so assured of their victory. Oh, just wait. Just wait until Nordik came. Then they’d see pieces of themselves scattered over miles of forestland. The piggy and the vulture woman were dead. He didn’t spot their bodies anywhere, but he didn’t figure they’d leave them for Nordik to find. Poe managed to push past his agony, just enough, to note where they’d brought him. He was lying in a good-sized meadow with cheerful flowers blooming all around, and with thick trees acting as a border. It was open. No shelter.
The maniacal laughter surrounding him was evidence of how a life of anger and vengeance led to madness.
“Enough,” a cool voice said, halting the laughter immediately.
Poe’s eyes widened. He knew that voice. He knew that voice very well.
Chief Anu.
“We have a job to do for our lord,” the chief said. “Leave me alone with the agent for a moment.”
All the knights walked away toward the trees. Poe and his traitorous chief were now alone. Now that the knights were gone, he noticed that the meadow was on top of a cliff that plunged into the forest below. He must be bait. Just like Timothy had been bait. His stomach flipped and he took careful, controlled breaths through his nose. Exhaustion made it hard to will away the screaming agony that his body had become. He just wanted to sink down again in the nothingness and hide.
Anu knelt in front of him, looking just as slick and snake-like as usual. A smirking smile creased his face.
“Good to see you, Agent Poe,” Anu said casually. “Now I think it is time to debrief you.”
Poe glared at the traitor and wished he could spit in his face. After which he would break Anu’s balls and crush his nose. Anu yanked the gag out of Poe’s mouth and waited as if they stood in Anu’s office during just another day at the Agency.
“We both know he’ll come for you, Agent. You’re not one to fail your missions.” Anu smirked. “I can’t tell you how long we waited by that damn cave. Waiting for the two of you to emerge. What were you doing with that shifter in his cozy little cave, Agent?”
“Eat shit!”
Anu punched his face. The force slammed Poe’s head against the ground and his vision fractured again.
“I’ve wanted to do that for some time,” Anu said. “You have no idea. Such disloyalty, Poe. For your Agency. You do know the rules the Agency follows, don’t you? No fornication with shifters.”
“Loyalty,” Poe said hoarsely. “Like yours to Arcas? You sold out everyone, Anu. You betrayed your family.”
“The Knights are my family,” Anu said, his eyes flashing. “The Agency is a pitiful failure, don’t you see that, Poe? The Agency wishes to stop the inevitable.”
“And what’s that?” he asked.
“Shifters were just not meant to live.”
Poe shook his head, his body one big throbbing wound. His stomach roiled with hot wrath. “I’m going to gut you.”
Anu laughed. “I’d like to see you try.”
Poe struggled with his bonds despite knowing it was no use. The iron burned like cold fire, and he wanted to scream and wail.
He caught Anu’s gaze and glared. “How did you know where he lived?”
Anu smiled. “Well, I suppose I can tell you. You know that folder I gave you with the master shifter’s information? It had a tracer on it.”
Poe’s breathing became harsher. He imagined strangling Anu, slowly.
“I just knew I could depend on you, Poe. And my lord was so delighted when I sent you. He has a great disliking for you as well. He’ll reward me well for this.”
Was the man really boasting? Was he that convinced he had won?
“Captain!” A young woman ran toward them. Anu looked at her. “The beast has been spotted not far from here.”
Poe cursed silently. While he wanted Anu and the rest of the knights to suffer, he didn’t want Nordik harmed. He desperately hoped he didn’t come alone.
“Perfect,” Anu said. He looked at Poe with a sickening smile on his face. “Get to your positions.” He leaned closer to Poe’s face. “The tracer was a gift from my very generous lord. As was the spell to cloak our presence. Our side will win. And you’ll lose. You’ll fail, Agent Poe.”
Poe snarled and called him several foul names.
Anu clucked his tongue. “Watch yourself, Poe. I could let the knights carve into you. I think I might enjoy that. You have caused my lord many headaches in the past. Well, this won’t take long. The real reason I’m here is coming very soon, and all you can do is lie on the ground, useless and helpless.”
Poe stopped fighting his stomach and managed to aim a good portion of his puke right into Anu’s face. Anu flinched with a cry of horror and scrambled away. Unfortunately, once he’d opened the floodgates, there was no way to dam it up again. Poe emptied his stomach on the pristine meadow and felt marginally better for it. But until the iron cuffs were taken off, he’d continue to feel like shit.
“You sickening speck of offal!” Anu hurried away, shouting orders, and Poe felt marginally satisfied.
Then the same young woman from before cautiously replaced his gag before kicking his stomach. He choked and shuddered, gasping for breath through the gag. He knew the others were watching him, and he didn’t care. He needed to get loose. He was hogtied, and it didn’t help that his left hand was now in constant agony because of that damn bitch. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was bleeding again. No matter how good Nordik’s stitches were, they weren’t unlikely to stand up to all the abuse. And the iron continued to burn and sap his strength.
Still he struggled, and the ropes strained against him. Then a roar ripped through the forest. Poe cringed, the sound vibrating against his bones. He struggled harder, desperate to not be bait. He couldn’t be the reason his mate died.
His mate. Jesus. His mate.
The ropes wouldn’t budge. Poe heard strange desperate noises, like those of a trapped animal, and realized they were coming from him.
A large white grizzly bear came thundering into the open.
“Nordik run!” he said, but the gag muffled his voice.
Nordik didn’t stop. Instead, he ran recklessly toward Poe. Shots rang out. Poe flinched, almost instantly finding a furry weight on him. He opened his eyes and saw white fur above his face, protecting his body.
Shots hit Nordik, and the shifter didn’t move. Poe struggled underneath him, panting, yelling at him to run, but Nordik didn’t budge. Then, one of Nordik’s paws moved to Poe’s bindings and cut through them easily with his razor sharp claws. Poe twisted his body to release himself. He yanked down his gag. The iron bracelets weren’t connected like cuffs, and he whimpered as he was forced to touch th
e iron to work them off his hands. For the first time in his life, he was glad to have small hands. They came off and Poe gasped at the abrupt removal of most of his agony. He still felt like shit and probably would for a couple of days.
Nordik continued to jerk and grunt in pain as bullets pierced his hide. They must be silver bullets and that meant―
“Nordik, goddammit!” Poe pushed against the master shifter, who only lowered himself more forcefully on top of him.
Other screams suddenly filled the forest. Other roars joined them in a chorus of rage and violence. Poe realized the knights were being attacked. Their gunfire revealed their location, and whoever Nordik had brought with him were attacking. At least he hadn’t come alone.
Nordik rolled off him, and Poe surged up, forgetting his own pain, and gripped Nordik’s face. Brown eyes stared at him, and there was relief mixed with agony. The bullet wounds were already swelling, and pus dribbled out of the holes. It confirmed Poe’s fear. Silver. Silver could destroy their internal organs, even if the bullet was nowhere close to any. The pain that Poe had just endured was now Nordik’s.
“You idiot!” Poe sobbed and wished Genii was with him. She knew more about bullet extraction than he did.
Before he could think of what to do, an arm curved around his neck, and he was lifted off his feet. Choking, Poe kicked out against who held him, and then a gun came into his line of vision. It pointed right at Nordik’s chest.
“Stop struggling or your beast dies,” Anu’s voice hissed ruthlessly in his ear.
Poe stopped instantly. He was still sick, his strength not yet fully back. His wrists throbbed and his empty stomach cramped.
“I will not be denied my prize,” Anu said, his voice pitched higher than normal. Poe stared at Nordik, who was staring back, his eyes wide and his body shaking with his heavy panting.
Screams still echoed around them. Roars trumped the human noises, however. It sounded like a massacre.
“Now, I am going to give you a vial.” Anu’s lips pressed against Poe’s ear. “You are going to get some of that beast’s blood inside of it. If you try anything….” Anu shook his gun, and grabbed Poe’s left hand. Poe instantly flinched.
