Kindred Truths

by M. D. Grimm

  Odin pounded his fist against his desk. Poe knew exactly what Odin was feeling. They were all feeling it.

  “Don’t lose it now, Odin. We need you at least to keep a level head. Don’t make me sic Mac on you.”

  Odin snorted and smiled at the mention of his assistant. “You think that’s a threat? Some days he’s the only reason I keep my sanity.”

  Poe raised an eyebrow, a nagging suspicion growing. But now was not the time to speculate about his friend’s love life. Or lack thereof. “How’s the decryption coming?”

  “As good as you can expect,” Odin said. “Slow. Tedious. Still haven’t captured a knight with high enough clearance to be of any help. Not since the one Pan and Jin brought in.”

  Poe nodded.

  “And now that you mention it.” Odin stood and went to one of his many filing cabinets. He opened a drawer, took out a thick folder, and plopped it down in front of Poe. “Your turn.”

  Poe stared at the folder as if it were a fatal disease before meeting Odin’s eyes. “I will seriously get down on my knees and blow you if you don’t give me that.”

  Odin laughed heartily. “You too, Poe? I have never had so many offers of sexual favors since I started handing out these files for deciphering.”

  “I can believe it.” Knowing resistance was futile, he grabbed the folder and turned to leave. The door suddenly opened, and Mac came in with an iPad and a thin folder tucked under his arm. He stopped short when he saw them and smiled.

  “I can come back.”

  “No, no,” Poe said with a long-suffering sigh. “No need. I’m going.”

  Mac saw the folder, and his smile turned sympathetic. “Godspeed.”

  Poe lightly punched his shoulder before leaving and closed the door behind him.

  Chapter Six

  Three months later

  POE FOLLOWED Glenn silently through the underground tunnels that zigzagged underneath Glenn’s family home. The tunnels led to several safe locations inside Wayne National Forest, just in case the deer shifter family had to quickly flee from danger. They were only to be used in emergencies. Knights in the forest constituted an emergency.

  Poe wrapped his arms around his chest, pulling his coat closer to his body. It was late evening, and the December weather was nippy, to say the least. He could see his own breath coming out like puffs of clouds. He didn’t have to bend over as Glenn did—sometimes his shorter height was an advantage. The tunnel suddenly started to climb, and they only walked a little way farther before Glenn put out a hand to stop him. Poe grunted at the impact. Glenn knocked on the trap door above, and it immediately opened. Someone helped them up before they slammed the door shut and pulled a rug over it.

  Poe ran his hands over his hair and dusted off his shoulders. When he brought his attention to the room, he nodded at those gathered. He zeroed in on Hunter, the main reason he was there. Hunter had been raised by the Knights since the age of thirteen but never fully subscribed to their philosophy of death to all shifters. He was of African-American descent, with closely cropped hair and deep-brown eyes. He kept in shape and was of average height, which meant he still towered over Poe. Such was life for a guy with a genuine dwarf for a father.

  “Agent Poe,” Hunter said, nodding in greeting.

  “Hunter.”

  On his rite of passage, Hunter had been tasked with killing his first shifter. But when he met Glenn, everything changed. They were now mates, and Hunter’s kidnapping by the Knights when he announced he was leaving was the reason Poe had located and infiltrated their headquarters over six months ago. But knights had long memories, and many were still out for revenge for his betrayal. Hopefully Poe could capture more knights alive this time than the last couple of missions.

  “Mother, Father,” Glenn said, interrupting Poe’s thoughts. “This is Agent Poe. Agent, this is Douglas and Willow Lightfoot.”

  Poe turned toward Glenn’s parents. They were both in their sixties, with silver in their hair, but still looked hale and hearty. Strong and virile, Douglas was the leader of his herd, and when he decided to step down, Glenn would take his place.

  “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

  “We hardly had a choice.”

  Poe glanced at the moody young woman sitting on the couch, her entire posture showing annoyance.

  “Rowan,” Willow said, her tone a warning. Rowan wrinkled her nose but held her tongue.

  “And that’s my sister,” Glenn said, smiling slightly.

  Poe nodded to her before bringing his attention once more to Hunter. “What did you see?”

  Hunter took a deep breath, looking pained. Glenn grabbed his hand, and Hunter visibly relaxed.

  “Just so you understand,” he said. “Sometimes my visions are a few minutes in the future, sometimes hours and, on rare occasions, days. The visions a few minutes in the future are sure to happen, but the ones that are hours or days ahead might not. Or they happen differently.” Hunter rubbed the back of his neck, uneasy with all eyes on him. “It’s not an exact science.”

  “I get it. Just tell me what you saw.”

  Hunter glanced at Glenn, and Glenn smiled encouragingly.

  “I think this was days ahead. Knights were attacking. Burning. They took Shyre, Oak, and baby Glenn. They killed Douglas and Willow.” His voice broke. Glenn wrapped his arm around Hunter’s waist and murmured something to him Poe couldn’t hear.

  Willow walked over to Hunter’s other side and rubbed his back.

  “It was war,” Hunter finally said. He raised stricken eyes to Poe and swallowed hard. “I don’t know if it will still happen. Douglas sent the rest of the herd away—”

  “Damn right I did,” Douglas said. It seemed Hunter’s retelling of the vision had roused him once more. “No way in hell knights are getting any more of my family.”

  Poe frowned, not understanding that comment. But he knew better than to ask.

  “Have you seen any indications of knights in the park?” Poe asked.

  “If there are any, they mix well,” Willow said, her doe eyes worried. “It is still hunting season, and though all deer shifters know to avoid the area, some risk it.”

  “Hunter, can you estimate when the attack might happen?” Poe asked.

  “Like I said to the agent on the phone—Mackenzie, was it?—I can’t make a solid determination, and I’d rather not guess. And now that certain elements have changed, I don’t know if it will even happen.”

  “It will,” Poe said with certainty. Everyone looked at him. “Maybe Hunter doesn’t want to guess, but I suspect it will be less than a week. You called us last night, and it’s now morning. They won’t wait long to attack. They want to catch you unawares before any rumor reaches you of their presence.”

  “Do they think we have not heard of the multiple attacks on herds and packs across the country in the last few months?” Douglas said. “Do they think we are ostriches with our heads in the sand?”

  “I can’t say what they think,” Poe said. “But Arcas has to know that the Agency intercepted his transmission to his knights. He wanted us to. But I don’t think his followers know that that was his intention. We’re all just pawns to him.”

  Douglas cursed and turned away. He stalked across the living room. Willow immediately went to his side, her calming nature keeping him in control. Glenn watched his parents closely while Hunter looked miserable.

  “Bastards,” Rowan said.

  Poe met her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, they are.”

  “Agent Poe?”

  Poe looked at Hunter.

  “I thought Mackenzie said there would be two of you. That you had a partner.”

  “Yep. He’s in the forest, scouting.”

  Glenn raised an eyebrow at Poe. “What can another agent sense that we can’t? I grew up in that park. I know every tree and stream.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Poe said, unable to stop his smile. “But my partner isn’t another agent. He’s a shifter.”
>
  “There are shifters working for the Agency?” Glenn asked, clearly stunned.

  “Just one officially.” For now.

  “Who is he?” Douglas asked, coming back with Willow holding his hand. “While I appreciate your assistance, I don’t feel comfortable with a foreign shifter in my forest. Especially if I haven’t met him.”

  Poe nodded. “I understand, but it was a necessity. And you don’t need to worry. Nordik knows how to be respectful of another shifter’s territory.”

  Dead silence followed his words. Poe crossed his arms over his chest and wondered who would be the first to break it.

  “The master shifter?” Rowan sounded skeptical.

  “Your partner is a master shifter?” Douglas asked.

  “Long story,” Poe said. “I hope Hunter’s vision happens. We can set a trap for the knights and maybe get some real intel from them.”

  “I’d rather kill them.”

  Poe regarded Douglas. He saw the strong buck in his bright-green eyes and nodded. “Yeah, you and me both. But we need as many as possible alive. Information is key to winning this war, Douglas. We can’t only have brute strength, but brains and cunning. We have to outsmart Arcas, and we can only do that if we know what his plans are.”

  Douglas reluctantly agreed.

  Poe suddenly sensed Nordik… and something was wrong. He jerked his head to the back door and narrowed his eyes.

  “Hunter? When did you have the vision?” Poe asked. “Was it yesterday, when you called us?”

  Hunter swallowed audibly. “No. It was two days ago.”

  “We had to decide what was to be done,” Glenn said. “And to send the others away.”

  Dread knotted Poe’s gut. “Wait here.” He took a step toward the back door. But then a small canister shattered a window. It was similar to the ones used by police SWAT, and it immediately began to spew a thick cloud of gas. But while SWAT used tear gas, this was most likely something else.

  Even as they all scrabbled back and covered their noses, they heard a mighty roar from outside. It echoed around the surrounding area. Poe pulled out his gun and darted to the door, the others on his heels. There was no time to argue that they should escape through the tunnels. Besides, Poe knew he didn’t have the right to order them back. This was their territory, their home, that was being invaded.

  He just hoped he didn’t lose any of them today.

  THERE WERE five of them. Nordik dodged behind a tree just as one of the men shot again. It was hard to shoot accurately with a silver bullet at long distances, and he used that to his advantage. Silver wasn’t as soft as lead, and that meant the rifling of the gun barrel couldn’t carve into the bullet, which accounted for velocity and accuracy. He was too late to stop them from chucking the canister through the window, but he could at least distract them enough to stop them from immediately picking off everyone who came out of the house.

  In his bear form, Nordik charged the gunman, then dodged at the last minute. Two others began to shoot at him just as the back door slammed open and everyone poured out. Poe had his gun out and didn’t hesitate to shoot. He caught a woman knight in the leg, and she crashed to the ground with a scream. Poe was on her immediately and kicked the gun from her hand. He took out cuffs and proceeded to bind her. Another woman knight spun around to shoot at his back. Before Nordik could react to save him, a large buck with sharp antlers charged her. She was knocked flat, and the buck proceeded to use his antlers to great effect. She wouldn’t be a problem to any shifter ever again.

  Three other deer charged the remaining three knights. But the knights had silver bullets and didn’t hesitate to shoot. One doe went down with a squeal, twisting in agony. The other buck charged headlong into the shooter.

  “Glenn, stop!” a black man screamed at the buck even as he ran to the fallen doe’s aid.

  The knight lifted his gun. Aimed. Nordik burst out from behind the trees and roared. The sound caused the three remaining knights to focus on him. That gave the buck time to lower his head and collide. The knight turned back, but he’d lost his window. The buck knocked him to the ground but didn’t kill him as the other one had. Though the knight certainly wasn’t getting up in a hurry. He did try to lift his gun, but the deer turned around and used his hind legs to kick it out of his hand. In fact, he mostly just kicked the hand, breaking some bones.

  Now there were only two knights remaining: a man and a woman. They certainly weren’t expecting this and didn’t seem to have a plan B. The other doe had shifted and was now an older woman kneeling beside the younger doe. The two bucks stood side by side, heads lowered, staring at the two knights still standing. Nordik stood behind the knights, trapping them.

  “Give up,” Poe said, stepping forward. “Preserve your life and surrender.”

  The woman panted, a tiny thing, even shorter than Poe, with long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked to be in her midtwenties, and her brown eyes were panicked and held a certain amount of disbelief, as if stunned they’d lost. She stared at Poe with rage and blatant refusal of his offer.

  Nordik smelled the rancid scent of her fear and hate.

  “Lindsay,” the black man said. Nordik glanced over as he stepped forward. He seemed shocked. “Lindsay, is that you?”

  “Hunter,” she whispered, shocked as well. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Hunter, why did you abandon us? Abandon me?”

  Pain pinched his face. “Lindsay, the Knights are wrong. You know that. You have to know that.”

  She shook her head, anger etched on her face. “How could you choose them over us? Your family? I couldn’t believe what I was told. Not you. I loved you. You were my brother.”

  Hunter reached Glenn’s side and set a hand on his back. “Yes, I was your brother. But as hard as my decision was, it was the right one.” His voice thickened, and tears of his own glistened. “I’m sorry, Lindsay. Please surrender. Please. Don’t die for him. Don’t die for a monster.”

  Her lips trembled, and Nordik sensed genuine distress and grief. A dull pain in his heart reminded him that knights were living, breathing people. They weren’t mindless drones or emotionless robots. They could laugh and love and feel. But they’d been manipulated, their actions driven by fear and hate. Their darker emotions were fed by Arcas, their worst qualities praised and honed.

  At times like this, he didn’t hate them. He pitied them.

  “I can’t, Hunter. You know that. I would be dishonored. Gregor would—” She stopped. She seemed to suddenly remember they had an audience. The other knight hissed at her, shooting her a death glare.

  Poe stepped forward, gaze like a hunting hawk. “Gregor, did you say?”

  Lindsay pressed her lips together and looked away.

  “Not ‘commander.’ Interesting.” Poe stepped in front of the bucks, and Nordik crouched, ready to defend. “I detect a note of familiarity between you and Arcas’s commander.”

  She’d gone mute.

  Poe shrugged, barely two feet away. “That’s okay. We have someone back at the Agency who can jog your memory.”

  “You bastard!” Her companion dropped his gun—it was probably empty—and pulled a knife. He charged, and Poe easily deflected. But when the man returned, he showed his competency. Their moves were fast and deadly, and it was all Nordik could do to let Poe have this fight. The air was thick with tension as the knife sang and slashed through the air. Each time it appeared it would draw blood, Poe managed to deflect it in time. It angered Nordik that Poe was playing with the knight.

  He growled deeply, his claws sinking into the earth. Everyone watched the two combatants, even the two does, who were now in their human forms. The younger one was sweaty and pale, but it appeared they’d managed to dig the bullet out of her leg.

  Then it seemed even Poe got tired of the fight. He gripped the knight’s wrist and viciously twisted. Bones snapped and the knife fell. The knight cried out, but Poe quickly silenced him with a stiff right hook. He fell unconscious to t
he ground.

  Poe took a deep breath before yanking his coat straight. Then he looked at Lindsay. “So what will it be? Surrender or death?”

  Lindsay looked at all of them, her expression unusually calm, though tears still glistened in her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder at Nordik. Then she looked at Poe. “You need me alive.”

  She took out a gun and pressed it to her temple.

  Before anyone could move or think what to do, Hunter lunged for her with a shout. The gun went off the second he yanked it away from her head. The bullet spiraled into the sky, lost. They collapsed to the ground, and Hunter flung the gun away. Nordik realized they were both crying.

  “No more death, Lindsay. Please. No more, sister.”

  He stroked her cheek, wiping away her tears. She gazed up at him, and Nordik couldn’t read her expression. But she covered the back of his hand with her own.

  “Why did you choose them over me?” she whispered.

  “I didn’t,” he said, just as softly. “I chose love over hate. Life over death. I love you, sister, but Glenn is my mate. I can’t live on hate. Neither can you.”

  To Nordik’s shock—and he was sure to everyone else’s—Lindsay wrapped her arms around Hunter and hugged him. Clung to him. Hunter held her back, rocking them both as the sun steadily climbed and the morning wore on.

  “WE GREW up together,” Hunter said. The knights, both living and dead, had been taken by helicopter to Agency compounds. A lot of paperwork was in Poe’s future, but for right now, he wanted some answers. Nordik, dressed decently in trousers, a shirt, and slip-on shoes, stood next to him, his expression puzzled. They, along with Douglas and Willow, stood in a circle around Hunter and Glenn, who sat on a couch in the living room.

  Hunter looked at Poe. “What will happen to her? What you said about… about someone at the Agency jogging her memory. Did you mean torture?”