Kindred Truths

by M. D. Grimm

  Then he knew nothing at all.

  NORDIK RACED after the truck. He’d only just become adept at driving Poe’s motorcycle, and in the back of his mind, he knew at the speed he was going, he must have a death wish. But he didn’t care. The last sight he saw was Poe leaping onto the back of the truck right before it rocketed down the street. Only by the thinnest margin of control did he manage to follow procedure and bind the remaining knights before calling the Agency. But all the while, horrid images of pain and death whirled around in his brain, becoming stronger the longer Poe was out of his sight. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Poe’s abilities and skill. But Poe wasn’t perfect, and he was still easier to kill than Nordik.

  Nordik sped around a narrow corner and up a hill before the sight of his worst nightmares became reality. His heart actually stopped as he approached the dented and smoking remains of the cargo truck. He heard wails and screams coming from the hold, but despite his best intentions, he ran around the truck, looking for Poe. He had to know if Poe was alive. Had he been flung off? No, Nordik didn’t see him anywhere outside the truck. Poe had to be around somewhere, this was no accident. Nordik knew in his gut that if Poe was dead, he would sense it instantly. But he could be dying. It was imperative he find Poe alive. He had to.

  The truck lay on the driver’s side, so he climbed to the passenger side, barely registering the missing door. He looked inside to see two tangled bodies, lying still. His breath began to hitch, his heart hammering against his ribs as he carefully crawled inside.

  “Poe? Byron! Byron, can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  Hooking his boots against the bottom of the doorframe, Nordik eased his way inside, the cacophony of screams and wails from his shifter brethren causing sweat to rain down his face and agony to slice his heart. Just hold on, my children. Just a little longer.

  Poe lay on top of a knight who was obviously dead, if his sightless eyes were any guess. Poe’s eyes were closed, and when Nordik lightly brushed Poe’s cheek with his fingertips, Poe whimpered. It was the most beautiful sound Nordik had ever heard.

  Blood matted Poe’s hair and was splattered on his face. His right arm was in an awkward position, with a piece of bone jutting out of the skin. Swallowing hard, Nordik crawled back out of the cab and jumped to the ground. He raced over to the doors of the cargo hold and lifted his foot. He kicked again and again until the hole—one he suspected Poe had created—was large enough to use his hands to break the wood and iron away. He then began to help one shifter after another out of their hold. Many were as bloody as Poe, though none seemed to have been severely wounded by the crash. But all of them were barely conscious from the silver around their wrists. Nordik saw red and wished he had a knight to tear apart.

  A few of the shifters were in their animal forms, but most were still in their human form. There were many different types, from wolves to deer to cougars and a bull. Many of the children were unconscious or simply moaning incomprehensibly. They all looked at him in wonder and agony as he helped them sit on the side of the road. They knew him to be a master shifter; they either sensed it or smelled it. All of them trembled and shuddered from the silver, looking ill and ravaged.

  Agonizing minutes passed, and only after all the shifters were sitting on the curb did Nordik hurry back to Poe’s motorcycle. He grabbed Poe’s phone and hit the speed dial for the Agency.

  “Poe, that was fast,” Mackenzie said when she answered. She was the Agency’s main field dispatcher.

  “Poe’s injured badly, and I’ve got about twenty shifters here with silver bracelets.”

  “Medics on the way,” she said immediately. Nordik listened to the coded commands she spouted on another line. “We have your GPS coordinates. Is Poe conscious?”

  “No.” His heart lurched when he said it.

  “But he’s breathing?”

  “For now.” Nordik stared at Poe through the windshield and wondered if he should dare try to move him. He’d have to break the rest of the glass to get to him. The passenger side of the glass was already shattered, but the part nearest the driver’s side was still attached.

  “I have to ask—is there any way you can get the silver off the shifters without harming yourself?”

  Nordik looked at his brethren. At their agony.

  “No. There isn’t. Just get here now.” He hung up. Though it hurt with every breath he took to step away from Poe, he knew what he had to do. The war was bigger than them. More lives were at stake than just theirs. He was a master shifter. He knew his duty.

  Nordik crouched down in front of a young female shifter. Even her lips were pale, and she was soaked in cold sweat. She looked dazed, and an ugly knot protruded from her forehead. He took a deep breath and gripped the silver bracelet. His skin burned as if he’d touched a living flame. Baring his teeth in a snarl, he got a good grip and yanked, snapping the bracelet in half. Then he tossed it away with disgusted fury. The young woman gulped in air, and color flooded back to her face. Her eyes cleared, and she stared at him.

  “Thank you. Bless you.”

  Nordik laid his hand on her head only a moment before looking at the other shifters, seeing the hope in their eyes.

  “Children first.”

  He was glad there wasn’t even a bit of grumbling at that. The children were brought to him, but getting the bracelets off their wrists was harder since they were smaller. He couldn’t get a good grip on them. Giving in to desperation, he bit down on the bracelets and snapped them with his teeth. The silver burned his gums, and his eyes watered in pain. But he never stopped. Soon the five children were bracelet free. Then he began on the adults. He grew sicker by the moment, his body rebelling against the poisonous metal. But now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop. He had to finish. When the last shifter was brought to him, he wondered if he had enough strength. His arms trembled, and his stomach was in tight, greasy knots. But he simply clenched his teeth, gripped the silver, and snapped it off.

  Then he could only kneel, bracing his hands on the ground. He trembled and concentrated on taking cleansing breaths. The sound of shattering glass caught his attention, and he swung around. Several of the newly freed uninjured shifters gently maneuvered Poe out of the cab. Somehow one of the smaller females managed to climb fully into the cab and cover Poe’s body with her own while two others broke the rest of the glass as safely as possible. Poe moaned in pain, but Nordik could see they were handling him as best they could. Two male shifters brought him to Nordik. Nordik only lifted his arms, and finally—finally—he cradled Poe against him.

  Nordik looked up at his kin, and his throat threatened to close. He could only nod to them in thanks, and they all nodded back. One of the children, a small girl with disheveled hair and weary eyes, waved at him with a small smile. He managed to smile back.

  As they sat staring at each other and the ruins of the truck, he finally found his voice.

  “If you stay, the Agency can see to your injuries and take you home.”

  As they were all weary and most likely still in pain, the shifters sat down around Nordik, creating a protective ring around him and Poe. Nordik stroked Poe’s hair, doing his best not to jostle him. He kissed Poe’s head, then his cheeks, then his lips. Poe moaned again and briefly opened unfocused eyes. He seemed to see it was Nordik who held him and closed his eyes again. He knew he was safe, where he was supposed to be. Nordik held him closer.

  As they sat and waited, a few of the shifters, those in human form, began to tell Nordik where they were abducted and how they were captured. Nordik listened, filing everything away for later. The Knights were becoming bolder. Reckless. He knew it had started with Arcas’s message to his followers, but knights seemed to have taken his commands and run with them, feeling as though they were invincible. Lone hunters indeed.

  The situation was escalating. Neither he nor Poe had been able to draw a steady breath since they started these missions nearly a year ago. They were consumed with them, often ove
rwhelmed by them. It was one after the other after the other. Again and again. They would stop one unit, then have to stop the next one. And the next one. But there were bigger events at play, ones only seen in the shadows. Arcas was certainly giving them enough distractions to keep them busy. But Arcas had recently been spotted in Thailand and then in India. He was searching for one of the scrolls. It was the only thing that made sense.

  One thing was certain, however: he and Poe made an awesome team.

  Haven was on full alert and had been since this all started. But there was no indication of any hostility toward that place. Nor to Sanctuary. It was odd, since those two places seemed like prime targets. But Nordik wasn’t lulled into false security. He suspected it was merely the calm before the storm. Sanctuary and Haven were to be the finales.

  The thud-thud-thud of a helicopter broke through his thoughts, and he looked up. He recognized it as one of the Agency’s and calmed the shifters as a few, mostly those still in their animal forms, started to climb to their feet and growl. The simple nondescript helicopter landed on the dirt road not far from them. Even before the engines stopped, the door slid open and Genii hopped out, running full speed to Nordik. He was a little disappointed Lila wasn’t the one to come. But he knew that was selfish. He wanted Poe healed now. Genii was just as good, even if she didn’t have Lila’s healing ability. Poe claimed she was a genius at extracting silver bullets from shifters. He could appreciate that.

  “How’s he doing?” Genii asked as she dropped to her knees beside them.

  “Bloody head, broken arm. I don’t know about internal bleeding.” And that was something he refused to think about.

  As Genii got to work examining Poe, Nordik looked up and was a little surprised to see Captain Odin standing next to the helicopter, surveying the scene. He certainly cut an impressive figure clad in near seven feet of black, with his pale skin, bald head, and dark eyes. The copter finally stilled, and Mac jumped out. Odin said something quietly to Mac, who nodded and immediately climbed back into the copter and riffled through boxes. Odin strode forward and acknowledged Nordik with a nod before he addressed the other shifters.

  “My name is Captain Odin. I know you’ve been through hell, and I don’t want to make it more difficult for you. I would like to help you, if you let me. We have supplies here, food, blankets, medicine, and cloths to clean yourselves. We have a few sets of clothes for those of you still in your animal forms. We have safe houses nearby as well, if you like. I hope you each can tell me what you know about your captors. Any and all information you have is vital to stopping the Knights of the Dawn for good and making them pay for the crimes they’ve committed against you and your kin.”

  Every single adult shifter looked at Nordik. Nordik glanced at them before meeting Odin’s eyes.

  “I trust the Agency with my life, brothers and sisters. So can you.”

  He heard Genii’s quick intake of breath even as Odin’s eyes widened slightly at Nordik’s unflinching support. Odin cleared his throat and beckoned the shifters to him. Mac appeared with coolers and other large containers that obviously held the supplies. He doled them out with smiles and kind words and even managed to make a couple of the children laugh.

  Nordik realized, as he watched their interactions, as Poe stirred against him when Genii began examining his broken arm, that he also had two tribes now. The shifters were one. The Agency, somehow, had become the other.

  Chapter Eight

  POE COULDN’T believe his ears. He clenched his left hand into a fist. He’d have done the same with the other, but it was currently locked in a cast, hanging in a sling looped around his neck. The fact they’d put him in a cast should have alerted him at once to their insidious plan. But he’d been hopped up on painkillers for the last couple of days, staying awake because of a concussion, and he had made the big mistake of trusting them.

  “A vacation.”

  Chief Hera leaned back in her chair and regarded him. He was sure she saw the fury in his eyes.

  “It’s hardly a punishment, Poe. You’ve been on missions for nearly a year now, and I think it’s time you take a break.”

  “I’ve been on missions my whole life,” Poe said through gritted teeth. His training was failing him, and he didn’t give a rat’s ass. “Why are you so concerned now?”

  “Not missions like this,” Odin said, interjecting. Poe swung a glare at his captain and supposed friend. “You know it’s never been this dangerous before, Poe. You’re not stupid. You know the game is changing. You’ve jumped from one death-defying mission to another. And you’ve done so admirably.” Odin’s voice softened, and that was never a good sign. “But even you can’t keep going forever. Frankly I’m worried about you.”

  “Worried. About me?” Poe shook his head in confusion. “Why? I’m doing just fine! Like you said, I’ve finished missions admirably. And with a master shifter at my side—”

  “Ah yes, now we come to it,” Chief Hera said.

  “What?” He heard the edge in his own voice and tried to soften it when he said, “Sir.”

  He didn’t manage it.

  “You have a master shifter attached to you, Poe. That means we’re not only risking you but a powerful shifter who can command other shifters. One who is supposedly descended from Merlin himself. Would you like to imagine the devastation and anger his death would generate? I wouldn’t. It was a risk letting him get involved, but it was either that or have him go off on his own. In some ways, he’s safer with us. In others he’s not.”

  “The fact is, Poe,” Odin said, “we need you sharp. We need Nordik sharp. So rest. You’re wearing thin, my friend. You know it, I know it. We can all see it.”

  Poe had the embarrassing vision of himself stamping his foot and whining, No, I’m not! That very image caused him to pause and consider their words. But he wasn’t giving up yet.

  “If this is about the last mission where I got this”—Poe bobbed his cast—“then let me just say it was unavoidable. It was either this or let them get away with twenty shifters. You’ve both read my report. I was justified in my actions.”

  “Yes. You were.” Chief Hera nodded. “But we almost lost you, Poe. We almost lost Nordik. Can you imagine any other shifter personally breaking off twenty bands of silver, some of them with his teeth?”

  Poe swallowed hard. He thought of the nasty bite of iron and knew Nordik had suffered far worse. He loved Nordik with everything he had, but that wasn’t the point.

  “Chief—”

  “You’re one of my best,” she said simply. He stopped and swallowed hard. Despite thinking so himself, despite others telling him the same, it was a shock to hear it right from the chief.

  “I can’t and won’t lose you. The vacation is an order.”

  Desperate, Poe prepared to swallow his dignity. “Chief, please. Just have Lila heal me up. Then I’m good to go.”

  “Think of the injury as a reason for the vacation,” Odin said.

  “But it doesn’t have to be.”

  Hera and Odin exchanged a glance. She nodded. Odin strode past Poe and opened the office door.

  “You have such a hard head,” Odin said.

  Before Poe could answer, Nordik walked in, looking fierce and determined. Poe looked at all three of them in turn.

  “What is this?”

  “An ambush,” Nordik said unapologetically.

  Poe scowled at him.

  “Nordik is going to make sure you rest up.” Chief Hera leaned back in her chair and swiveled it lazily. A cunning gleam lit her eyes that Poe immediately disliked. “This isn’t negotiable, Poe. You’ll take the vacation, and when you return, rest assured I will put you on the first mission I can. But right now your mission is to relax and heal, both physically and mentally. Too much is at stake to risk you or Nordik. Dismissed.”

  Even as vile words piled on the tip of his tongue, Poe only gave a sharp nod before spinning abruptly on his heel and marching out of the office. Nordik followed hi
m silently. No one met Poe’s eyes as he stomped down the hall. Good, they should be scared. Busted arm or not, he could still tear them apart. He just couldn’t trust anyone these days.

  Nordik suddenly grabbed Poe’s good arm and yanked him into an empty office. Nordik slammed the door shut and stood in front of it.

  “Let it out, Poe. You’ll burst apart if you keep it in.”

  Poe growled. “How dare you! How dare all of you! You think you know what’s best for me? Huh? You think I’m some little child you can guide along by the hand? I’m a fucking soldier. I need to fight. I need to save them. All of them.”

  “By yourself?”

  “If I have to!”

  Nordik pointed a finger at him. “But you don’t have to. You know that, right? There’s an entire building full of capable and dedicated agents. They will keep the operation going while you get some rest.”

  “I don’t want to rest!”

  “I didn’t ask you, did I?”

  “No. None of you did. None of you fucking care what I think. Just order Poe around—his wants don’t matter.”

  “Apparently mine don’t either.”

  Poe was confused enough to lower his voice. He realized he’d been shouting. “What?”

  “You don’t seem to care what I want, mate. You don’t seem to care that I held you, wondering if you’d die in my arms. You don’t seem to care that I had to step away from you to help my brethren, and it nearly killed me.”

  The dark intensity of Nordik’s voice had Poe’s fury dissipating. He swallowed hard. They hadn’t talked about that mission. Not really. Not fully. He’d read Nordik’s report, but Nordik managed to keep his fears out of it. Poe hadn’t wanted to hear what it was like for him. It would force Poe to analyze his own fears and might lead to conclusions he was better off not making.