by M. D. Grimm
Mackenzie took an audible breath before following orders.
Arcas’s perfect, hated face appeared onscreen, and Poe’s guts twisted in revulsion. The face of an angel with the soul of a demon. Arcas sat at his leisure behind what appeared to be a large oak desk, as if he was a CEO, with a map of the world behind him.
“I tried to run a trace on the video, but the signal kept bouncing all over the world,” Mackenzie said. “We can’t find its point of origin.” Her tone was apologetic, but Hera only nodded, focused on the screen.
Calculating blue eyes stared out of a symmetrical face bordered by black hair. His face would’ve been flawless if it weren’t for the ugly scar that diagonally crossed it. Poe knew the cougar shifter who had given Arcas that scar and smiled fiercely when he saw it.
“Good day, my children,” Arcas said, his voice smooth and as flawless as his face used to be. Poe gritted his teeth as it slipped over his senses like greasy ooze. He reached out blindly and grabbed Nordik’s hand. Nordik linked their fingers, his grip unbreakable.
“I have decided that it is time for me to contact you directly, to once again impress upon you the importance of your mission. To let you know that I have grown concerned with your progress. My children, have I not stressed the importance of curing the virus that infects our world? That makes it ill and delusional and blind? Shape-shifters must be destroyed. It is the only way to stop the degeneration of the world. They’re insidious, cunning, and destructive. You are their prey. They wish to rule supreme, to keep you as slaves and food.”
The greasy feeling became like a sticky web that blinded him. For a shocking moment, his thoughts turned to Arcas’s words. He was suddenly disgusted by Nordik, and the touch of his hand was like touching something infectious. He tried to pull his hand away, but Nordik pressed closer to him, and his scent triggered lovely memories of their time together. The love they shared. The unbreakable bond. Whatever mist Arcas’s words had put over Poe’s mind vanished, though dregs still lingered, horrifying him. Poe took deep breaths, and Nordik’s scent kept the deadly mist away.
“They are beasts without morality,” Arcas continued, “without compassion or honor. They don’t feel the way we do. Don’t be deceived by their cries for mercy or screams of pain. They feel nothing. They are like empty shells that must be filled with the agony and misery of their victims.”
Poe’s knuckles cracked as he curled his hand into a tight fist. He wanted to smash his fist into Arcas’s lying mouth again and again until there was nothing left but a bloody soup. Then he heard Nordik grunt and realized he was close to breaking Nordik’s hand. He managed to ease his hold enough to keep from shattering bones. Rage bubbled inside him, and he knew he wasn’t alone. Every person in the building would want to string Arcas up high like the Italians did to Mussolini at the end of WWII.
But how many were affected by Arcas’s voice? If that bastard could affect him, the mate of a master shifter, for only a short moment, what of someone who didn’t love a shifter?
“That is why we must not falter,” Arcas said. “We must not fail. We must not run from our duty. You are the chosen ones, my children. My Knights of the Dawn. I will lead you and guide you. I will be at your side during this war. Let my belief and love in you give you strength and courage. You will not fail me. I know you won’t.”
Arcas sat back in his chair, smiling benignly, as if he was truly a father looking at his children with pride and encouragement.
Poe wanted to vomit.
“That is why I grant you freedom. Upon my order I want you to shove aside caution and restraint. If you see a shifter, kill it. If you even suspect that your neighbor, cashier, babysitter, gardener, insurance agent, or any other seemingly normal person is a foul beast of destruction, kill it. Become a lone hunter. The enemy is everywhere, hiding in plain sight. They rely on their ability to look like us to blend in, to merge and corrupt our society. But I know you won’t be deceived by that. I know you can see beyond the lies. Trust your instinct and eliminate the threat.”
Poe had to remember to breathe.
“I have one more task to offer only the most brave and loyal,” Arcas said, leaning forward intently, his eyes bright with excitement. “The Agency. They are even now trying to locate me and my commander. They are in league with the beasts and must be destroyed. We must treat them no differently than the beasts they protect and often fornicate with. They may be of our blood, but they have dishonored that blood, fouled it, and soiled the names of their ancestors. They are the enemy. If we are to win this war, we must eliminate as many of them as we can. I offer a bounty, my children. A bounty on all agents. Their heads will be all the proof I need to promote the most brave and loyal.”
Arcas paused, still smiling, and laid his forearms on the table, linking his fingers in front of him. His posture was calm and controlled, almost genial. If it weren’t for the things he said, one would think he was giving orders on how to build an amusement park for children. And Poe couldn’t completely shake the deadly mist that insisted on turning his thoughts to Arcas’s words, to betray everything he believed in and fought for to please this maniac. Though he knew Arcas’s words were wrong, he still wanted to do as he said.
Poe’s eyes widened. Was that Arcas’s power?
“We are throwing down the gauntlet, my hunters,” Arcas said, smirking. “Remember, we are legion.”
The video went to black.
It didn’t take a genius to understand Arcas wanted the Agency to view this video, to know exactly what he was ordering his followers to do. That comment about being “legion” was certainly a poke at the Agency. And what was with the “Knights of the Dawn” crap? Was that… could that be the actual name of the cult? And the term “lone hunter”—was that like the term “lone wolf” white supremacists used when they wanted their junior members to take matters into their own hands?
No one spoke for a good five seconds, and the techs, even Mackenzie, shook themselves as if coming out of a trance. They were pale and shaky.
Poe turned his gaze and met Odin’s eyes. “Did you feel that?” he asked, his voice raw as if he’d been a headbanger fan screaming at a metal concert.
Odin tightened his lips as he nodded. Hera glanced sharply at Odin, and though Poe couldn’t read her expression, he knew it couldn’t be good. Odin’s eyes went from haunted to grim, and he yanked out his phone before leaving the room, but not before Poe distinctly heard him say, “I need to speak to the sheriff. Now.”
Haven. It made sense. No one knew how many knights were aware of Haven, but if enough did, they could plan an assault on the shifter town.
Hera took a deep breath, and Poe suspected it was to shake off the mist as well. She then smashed her hand on the intercom button and could now be heard throughout the entire building.
“All right, people. This is your chief speaking. Everyone take a deep breath and shake it off.” She paused a moment. “Now let’s deal with this. Arcas obviously wanted us to see this video. He wants us to feel helpless and hopeless. He wants us feeling defeated and outnumbered. And for those affected by his voice, shake it off. You are agents, protectors, and guardians. We are fighting a monster. You will listen to me because I, for one, am not going to give him the satisfaction of faltering. I don’t expect any of you to either. This war has just begun, and since he’s moved the lines, I’m going to move them my way again.”
She glanced at Nordik with hard eyes and a grim expression. “He says he’s legion. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word. All captains, report to me in ten. There will be a briefing in exactly one hour. Everyone will attend, whether in the building or by phone or Skype in the field. All ambassadors, contact your charges and put them on alert. The more allies who know about Arcas’s decree, the less lives we’ll lose. Let’s move it, people!” She clicked off.
She turned sharply to Nordik. “Any way to get a hold of the other master shifters?”
Nordik looked distinctly uncomfortable. “N
o. We don’t do that.”
Poe still held Nordik’s hand and didn’t plan on letting go. The contact kept him calm. Arcas’s vile words repeated in his head, and he had no idea when they would fade. The vitriol and utter disregard for life and its wonders hit Poe squarely in the heart. He’d found so much with Nordik, more than he thought possible. That someone could so blatantly order its demise was terrifying.
Hera narrowed her eyes at Nordik’s answer. “What the hell does that mean? You know we need all the strength we can muster.”
“I know,” Nordik said. “But we don’t do that. When master shifters are in close proximity to each other, we are weakened, and it becomes easier to kill us. I don’t know why. No one does. But we don’t communicate.”
“Not even by phone?”
“No.”
Hera ground her teeth. “Got any ideas where the other masters are?”
Nordik hesitated. Poe gripped Nordik’s hand between both of his. Their eyes met.
“Please,” Poe said softly. “I know you want to protect them and give them their privacy. But we need all hands on deck here. I think they’ll want in this fight for the same reason you do.”
Nordik regarded him silently before nodding. “You’re right, mate.” He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them with apparent resolve.
“There is Imelda, the wolf master shifter, but I don’t know her current location. She might be in Canada now.”
“She founded Haven?” Hera asked.
He nodded. “I believe there is a master shifter in Australia and one in Africa. I know Kai is in Asia. He would never leave his birthplace.” He paused. “But Creusa and Coral would be the hardest to find, if they are still alive. They’re the oldest of us. I honestly doubt either of them could or would help us. They likely spend most of their days as their animals now.”
“Creusa is the shark,” Poe said. He noticed Mackenzie was typing Nordik’s answers on the computer. “But who is Coral?”
“She’s an anaconda. She lives deep in the heart of one of the South American jungles. It would be impossible to find her if you didn’t already know where she was.”
“Like you?” Poe asked.
“Far more difficult, I’d say.”
“Any others?” Hera asked.
“There is Glory in Russia—”
“I already have a line on her.”
Nordik nodded. “Right, one of your agents.”
Poe still found it hard to swallow that the flirtatious Agent Pan ended up in a monogamous relationship with a hawk shifter named Viktor. And that he was now ambassador to the master bird shifter, Glory. Though when he thought about it, Poe knew many still had trouble swallowing his own recent mating and promotion.
He was happy for Pan regardless.
“Just how many master shifters are there?” Hera asked.
Nordik hesitated. Poe squeezed his hand in encouragement. Trust had to start somewhere.
“Sixteen,” he said. “Eight males and eight females. But I don’t know all their names or their locations. Or even what animals they are.”
Frustration flashed over Hera’s face. But on the heels of it came resignation and resolve.
“What are my orders?” Poe asked.
Hera considered him. “I need you to do what you do best.”
Poe smiled sharply.
“What do you mean?” Nordik asked.
“We won’t have to go after knights,” Poe said. “They’ll come after us.”
Nordik’s face tightened in anger and fear. “Bait. You wish to be bait?”
“We’re both bait, master shifter.”
A deep rumbling growl came from Nordik’s chest. Hera eyed him warily even as Mackenzie hunched her shoulders.
“Excuse us for a moment, Chief.” Poe dragged Nordik out of the room and into the relative privacy of the hallway. Everyone was busy with their assigned duties and paid them no mind.
“Listen, Nordik, okay? Just listen.” Poe finally let go of Nordik’s hand and didn’t flinch from his glare. “When it comes to Arcas, you always have to read between the lines. He doesn’t want to win this war by picking off shifters one by one. That’s not how you win. He wants something that will destroy them in one fell swoop.”
“The weapon that the scrolls will lead to.”
“Exactly. All this is a distraction. It’s to keep us hopping around putting out fires. Our resources are already thin, and he wants them thinner. We’re fighting a war on fucking three fronts right now. First, we’re still trying to decrypt documents recovered from the Knights’ compound. Second, we’re trying to stop random killings by knights and keep them hidden from the general populace. And third, we’re trying to locate Arcas and Gregor. The obvious fact is we need help.” Poe sighed. “But not all shifters trust us. We’re still suspect to them.”
“But if all or most of the master shifters are allies to the Agency….”
Poe nodded. “That would go a long way to strengthening alliances. We need each other, Nordik. We need shifters to help us. And shifters need us.”
“And you want us to use ourselves as bait.” His tone illustrated what he thought of that idea.
“Yes, and you know why. We need information. Know thy enemy. The more knights we capture, the more likely it is we’ll find one who knows something vital. Some chink in Arcas’s armor or, even better, something that could lead us to Gregor. Without Gregor, Arcas is dead in the water. Gregor coordinates everything. He’s on the ground while Arcas remains at an untouchable distance. If we get him, it would be a coup!”
Poe held both of Nordik’s hands. “If Hera’s thinking the same thing I am, then it means she suspects Gregor is even now showing photos to different units and setting up targets. There are certain variables Arcas needs out of the way if the rest of this war is to go his way.”
“You’re a variable.”
“As are you.”
Nordik grunted. “The chief would be one.”
“Captain Odin.”
“The other master shifters.”
“Pan.”
Nordik frowned in thought. “You said he can communicate with animals.”
“He can do more than that. He controls them. Usurps their will.”
Poe knew Nordik remembered their conversation at home, when Poe described Pan and Jin’s assignment. Arcas wanted Pan alive to experiment on him, to see how he controlled animals. If the weapon the scrolls would unlock truly was a beast, then Arcas would need to control it. It fit. It all made sense.
“I doubt Arcas really wants all shifters destroyed,” Poe said. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Gregor’s coordinating a few units to take some shifters alive. He’s not done experimenting on them. And I think he’d love to have some as slaves while he plays at being a god.”
“Nordik.” They both turned to see Hera striding toward them. “Do you have any way of contacting Merlin?”
“Only if he’s on his island. If he’s not….” Nordik shrugged.
“Dammit,” Hera said. “Try his island first. But if he’s not there and happens to contact you later, tell him I would like to speak with him. I’ll meet him wherever he wants.” She paused a moment. “Please.”
Poe nearly smiled. She was used to giving orders, and she seemed to remember just in time Nordik wasn’t one of her soldiers.
“I will,” Nordik said.
“Thank you.”
Poe eyed her. “You felt it, didn’t you?”
“We all did.” Hera shook her head. “His power is… disturbing.”
“It is little wonder he can persuade others to his twisted thoughts,” Nordik said. “Especially if they are already inclined to such destructive actions. The weak-willed, those who feel powerless…. He would give them a semblance of power and purpose. His call would be one they want to answer.”
Poe looked up. “You felt it too?”
Nordik’s jaw clenched, his skin rippling.
“One hour, Poe,” Hera said. �
�Then after briefing, go to Captain Odin for your assignment. But this is going to take time. We have to be smart about this. So control the fight I see in your eyes.”
Poe swallowed hard and tried to loosen his muscles, unaware until that moment how tight he was. He wanted action, dammit! He wanted the fight, the blood, the life-and-death struggle. He needed it. Arcas had sounded the battle call, and the energy in the Agency was frenzied and frantic. But Hera was right. It would take time.
“Don’t worry, Agent,” Hera said with a smile cut from glass. “I’ll expose you and Nordik as often as I can.”
Poe matched her smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Chief.”
Chapter Four
THE LARGEST conference room was on the first floor of the Agency’s building. It was standing room only as everyone attempted to pack themselves inside. They managed it, but no one was afforded personal space. Several screens were set up to include agents in the field as well as the chiefs from other branches of the Agency who resided in different places across the globe.
Nordik stood behind Poe, his mate pressed against him in the crowded room. They positioned themselves near a wall to keep Nordik from blocking anyone’s view, as well as to keep out of the center of attention. Nordik realized quickly that would be unavoidable. He received many curious looks that turned to shock when agents were informed of his identity. But speculation was cut short when Hera stood up in front of the room and called for silence.
The two field captains, Odin and Hecate, stood behind Hera, their backs to the walls. Their grim expressions were identical. Mac stood at Odin’s side, trying but failing to keep the anxious expression off his face. There was a young woman Nordik didn’t recognize at Hecate’s side, probably the captain’s assistant. There was one other man behind Hera, and he was striking for his beauty. He was tall and slim, dressed in simple jeans and a polo. Nearly six feet tall with a sweet, pale face that would cause young girls to sigh with crushes. His blue eyes were dreamy yet inquisitive, framed with lush lashes. The eyes paired nicely with his bright honey-blond hair that was tied back in a ponytail. He held a clipboard stacked with a fair number of papers in his hands.
