by M. D. Grimm
The brown of Nordik’s eyes were on fire, and exhaustion suddenly crashed over Poe. He stumbled to a chair and sat, bowing his head.
“I don’t want to fight you. I don’t. I just want to do my job. Why can’t I do my job?”
“Because it’s hurting you, and you don’t even see it.”
“Bruises fade.”
“It’s not physical hurts I mean, and you know it.” Nordik knelt in front of him and gently set his hand on Poe’s leg. “It wears on me as well. It’s wearing on us. You can’t die on me, Byron. I won’t let you.”
Poe lifted his head and met Nordik’s eyes. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”
Nordik drifted his fingertips over Poe’s cheek. “I did, when you were unconscious in that truck. When you didn’t answer, I feared the worst. Then you whimpered and I could breathe again.” He paused. “It’s all right to be tired, Byron. You’re not Superman.”
Poe snorted. He cupped the back of Nordik’s head and pulled him in for a light kiss. “You can’t die on me either.”
They fell into silence, taking comfort from the other, each lost in his own thoughts.
“The war will go on without us,” Nordik said softly.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Nordik met his eyes again. “Mate, the hardest lesson for a soldier to learn is that you simply can’t save everybody.”
“So I shouldn’t even try?”
“Not at the expense of your own sanity. We both need a break.”
Poe’s eyes burned in defeat, but he didn’t let the tears fall. “Fine. You win. Let’s go home.”
POE DIDN’T know how it happened. He reviewed the conversation in his head and still couldn’t determine the moment she’d tricked him. After a week of quiet at Sanctuary, he had called his mom. As they talked he mentioned why he was on vacation. Then, as if by magic, she was making plans for him and Nordik to visit their family home in Ireland. Although his parents had raised him in the States, they’d moved back to Ireland about five years ago. All his mom’s family lived on the Emerald Isle, and he knew being away from them had been tough on her. Retiring had been the best thing to happen to his parents, yet now if he did visit his parents in Ireland, it wouldn’t just be them he would visit.
His mom insisted Nordik meet the whole family.
The whole family.
All his cousins and their cousins and children galore. The entire horde of his relatives descending on them like the plague, asking questions, probing for answers, nosy busybodies, the lot of them. But the worst part? Nordik thought it was a fine idea and actually seemed excited about it.
“I’ve never met any of your family, Byron,” he’d said after Poe told him everything in a slight daze. “Not even your parents. I’ve spoken to them on the phone, of course. But I would like to meet them in person. I’d like to meet your kin.”
“But… all of them? I have a little over a hundred kin, and they keep producing more.”
Nordik chuckled and cupped Poe’s cheek. “Mate, I would like to be part of your tribe.”
That sealed the deal in Poe’s mind. The longing in Nordik’s eyes was impossible to resist. Nordik still hadn’t spoken about his tribe from centuries ago. Even after all this time, it must’ve still hurt too much. Poe respected Nordik enough to know he would rather live in the here and now and not dwell on the past. Perhaps that was why he wasn’t a bitter old man. Maybe one day, Nordik would feel comfortable enough to share, and Poe would give him his undivided attention.
Besides, it wasn’t like they had a lot of time on their hands for heart-to-hearts. The missions had taken over their lives.
In any case, there they were, on a plane. Heading for Ireland and the horde.
“God help me,” Poe said under his breath.
Nordik, who had been looking out the window, glanced back. “Pardon?”
“Nothing,” Poe said on a sigh. He’d given Nordik the window seat because flying didn’t agree with him. Poe drove everywhere because being inside a plane or a helicopter made him queasy. They were death traps with wings, and no one would be able to convince him otherwise.
Nordik leaned over and kissed him lightly. “Just keep breathing, mate. It won’t be long.”
Poe grunted and slouched slightly in his seat. Takeoff was horrendous, but now they were flying smoothly and the skies were clear. He scowled at his cast, hating it with a passion. At least it didn’t hinder their sex life. If it had, he would’ve been trying to tear it off.
“Carol will probably be the first to hit you up with questions. She’ll also try to tell you embarrassing stories about me.”
Nordik chuckled. “How many of those are there?”
Poe smirked. “Carol and I are the same age, and we basically grew up together. I went to Ireland every summer break, and she and I would be hooligans together. She’s married now with three kids.”
“Do you want any?”
“Any what?”
“Kids.”
Poe leaned away from Nordik with bulging eyes. “Do you want me to get my axe and go all crazed woodsman on your ass?”
Nordik laughed loudly. Half the cab looked over and craned their necks to see what was going on. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“You better.” Poe shuddered at the very thought. “I don’t hate kids, let’s get that straight. But the last thing I want to be is ‘Daddy’ and have to be responsible for the brats.”
Nordik regarded him thoughtfully.
Once Poe calmed down enough, he noticed Nordik’s expression. “What about you?” Now he was beginning to worry he’d just shut down some dream of Nordik’s. Crap. Maybe he could stomach one kid. But the very thought made him itchy.
“I was a father. Long ago.”
Poe gaped. Speechless, he could only stare. Granted, he shouldn’t be surprised, but Nordik had never mentioned or even alluded to such a thing.
Nordik took Poe’s good hand and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. “It was a long time ago, when I was in my twenties. My first mate was a woman, and we had five strong children. But then we all realized my agelessness, and I had to watch as my wife and my children grew old and died. Then their children grew old and died. And so on.” Nordik shook his head sadly. “I can’t do that again.”
Poe curled his arm around Nordik’s and rested his head on his shoulder. Poe linked their fingers, and Nordik pressed his face against Poe’s hair and took a deep breath.
“You’re all I need,” Nordik whispered.
Poe closed his eyes. He was Nordik’s true mate and when he bound his life to Nordik’s, he’d taken on his nigh immortality—his extended lifespan. It was something Poe refused to dwell on or even think about. But he couldn’t stop thinking now. He’d outlive everyone. His family, his friends. He’d live as long as Nordik, and no one could say how long that would be. He’d have to watch everyone he loved die. All his Agency friends. It was too much to comprehend. Too much to swallow. He would only survive with Nordik at his side. Poe hoped that, in the end, Nordik would be all he needed as well. He would have to be. There was no going back.
Not wanting to voice his thoughts, he decided to lighten the moment.
“Damn right I’m all you need.”
NORDIK OFFERED to drive, but Poe showed him the Irish drove on the other side of the road, and he relented. He wasn’t the best of drivers to begin with, and he didn’t want to get them killed. At first Nordik worried about Poe’s arm, but he didn’t seem to let it bother him. Poe might not have been entirely ambidextrous, but he was close enough.
The drive to Poe’s family home was beautiful—fresh air, rolling green hills, sheep around every corner, and the random stone walls of long-abandoned houses. Yes, this was a good country. They were in the county of Galway, if he remembered correctly. Despite the gray clouds rolling in from the south, the sky north was a cheerful blue. Nordik found the signs charming, with each word written in English and some other language.
; “What language is spoken here besides English?” he asked.
“Irish Gaelic.”
“Hmmm. Never heard it before. I never managed to travel to Ireland in all my years.”
“Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón.”
Nordik blinked and stared at Poe. “What was that?”
“‘Many a time a man’s mouth broke his nose.’” Poe smirked. “Roughly translated.”
Nordik raised an eyebrow, suddenly suspicious. “How many languages do you know?”
“Let’s see…. Ich kann deutsche sprechen. Y español. Posso parlare anche Italiano. J’aime le français. Ya tebya lyublyu. Yīzhǒng yǔyán yǒngyuǎn bùgòu.”
Nordik gaped.
Poe stuck his tongue out before rotating his jaw. “Geez, showing off hurts.”
“What did you just speak?”
“I spoke German, Spanish, Italian, French, Russian, and Mandarin. I’m still not fully comfortable with Mandarin, but I can speak fluently in the romance languages. Once you know one, the others are a cinch. The problem comes with not smooshing Italian and Spanish together.”
“How did I not know this?”
Poe gave him a wide-eyed innocent look. “You never asked.” He grinned. “Being an agent means I gotta know as many languages as possible. I never know when I’ll be sent abroad. Impressed yet?”
“Very.” And Nordik had to consider Poe might appreciate his own people’s language. Not just the Algonquian he’d used for trading purposes, but his tribe’s private language. It would keep their spirits alive and bring him and Poe even closer together. Nordik wouldn’t mind speaking and hearing his mother tongue once again. Instead of reminding him of the sorrow of loss, it could become the happiness of the future.
The music was on low, and every now and then a song would play that Poe had to sing along with. He had a fucking sexy voice. In fact, it was so sexy that after one of those impromptu singalongs, Nordik insisted he stop the car and gave him a rough blowjob that had Poe crying out during climax.
Now they were minutes from Poe’s parents’ home, and a few nerves were beginning to make themselves known. But mostly he was simply excited to meet Poe’s parents face-to-face. They would be his new tribe. And Poe had given this to him.
They rounded a large hill, and suddenly an expansive piece of bumpy land cut across with squat rock walls rose up before them. Still more sheep were here, and Poe turned down a short gravel lane to a large farmhouse that fit perfectly with the rest of the scenery. Nordik wondered how old it was. The ancient feeling of the land reminded him of Sanctuary and how the land now called the United States once felt.
They stepped out of the car, and a flood of people poured out of the house. How did they all fit in there? Poe was instantly by his side and grabbed his hand.
“Remember, you wanted this,” Poe said under his breath.
Nordik smiled. As all the new faces began to crowd around them, he could see surprise on some of the nearest ones. His fierce presence probably puzzled them, but it didn’t seem to dampen their enthusiasm. Poe had said his family was one of the rare ones who knew about shape-shifters and could keep the secret.
Generations thronged around them, from the very old to the very young and everyone in between. He squeezed Poe’s hand.
“I do,” Nordik said for Poe’s ears only. “Very much.”
“Let me through! I get to see my son first, you heathens!”
Laughter erupted as a petite older woman with bouncy blonde hair—the same shade as Poe’s—came charging to the front. Bronach engulfed Poe in a tight hug, and he grunted and held her back. It eased Nordik’s mind and heart to see the peace and love steal over Poe’s anxious expression. Mother and son spoke softly to each other as a short, bearded man who regarded Nordik with cool eyes grabbed his attention. Nordik met his gaze without flinching, knowing who he was.
Nordik never thought he’d ever see a living true-to-life dwarf. There weren’t many left.
“Nordik,” Thorgold Bjarnarsonar said.
Nordik bowed his head respectfully. “Father.”
Thorgold’s dark beard twitched before his pale eyes—eyes he’d given his son—brightened and filled with amusement.
“I am, aren’t I? You big cuss.” He held out his hand, and Nordik took it with a grin. It seemed as if that handshake was an invitation because the entire family pressed closer, talking all at once. Nordik learned names and saw faces and was certain they didn’t match. He had babies thrust in his face whom he delighted in holding. Poe might’ve thought children a dangerous thing, but Nordik loved them. He ended up holding a little girl who couldn’t have been more than two. She sucked her thumb, and her expression was suspicious. He fixed that by tickling her and kissing her cheek. She giggled and squealed.
He glanced around and noticed Poe was no longer by his side. He frowned and looked over heads, vaguely answering any questions thrown his way. When he spotted Poe, he relaxed. Poe was with his parents, and the way his mother was touching his wounded arm told Nordik Poe was reassuring them he really was okay. It was only at that moment Nordik realized how much Poe needed his family. In the same way, Nordik needed them too. They were his now. All of them, including the baby in his arms who now smiled and babbled at him.
“You must be hungry!” someone shouted. That led everyone to agree he must be famished, and he was led into the house. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Poe give him an—I told you so—look. Nordik grinned.
THEY WERE exactly as Poe remembered them, and that was an odd comfort. Poe stood in a corner, getting his bearings. His mother had told him he was too much with the Agency and their rules and codes, and he had to admit she was right. He knew how to be a soldier; it came naturally to him. But to be a son, a cousin, or a family member? That was a role he always struggled with. At least Nordik didn’t seem to have any problems fitting in. Poe was amused as Nordik slid seamlessly into the horde. He was more open than Poe had ever seen him, and Nordik’s attitude won his family over. It was a great relief.
“There you are!”
Poe jumped and spun around. He laughed. “Carol. Look at you!”
“Look at you.” Carol bent and gave him a fierce hug before letting go and patting his head.
He sneered at her. “Don’t let the cast fool you. I can still take you one-armed.”
Carol laughed, obviously delighted to see him. She towered over him, as lithe as a willow, her strawberry blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her sparkling gray eyes contrasted with her pale, freckled face. She would always look ten years younger than her actual age, even with laugh lines around her mouth and eyes.
“Oh, I missed you, Byron. I desperately missed you.” The Irish lilt sang through her voice and comforted him.
Poe could never convince his family to call him by his chosen name, and he’d long ago given up on the attempt. He didn’t hate his name as much anymore, mostly because Nordik seemed to like it, but he’d never get used to it.
“It’s about time we got you over here. I think you just near broke your ma’s heart by not coming down for Christmas.”
Poe winced. “I know I did. And thank you so much for bringing that up.” She made noises of apology, but Poe wasn’t convinced. “Excuse me if I think catching bad guys who want to kill shifters is more important than celebrating a holiday of a religion half of us don’t even follow.”
“Christmas transcends religion, and you know it.” Carol nudged his shoulder. “It’s a time for family, and it’s been too long since you were around yours.”
Poe didn’t have the heart to tell Carol she was only half-right. The Agency was also his family, and he was around them more than was decent.
“So tell me about your man,” she said as she blatantly eyed Nordik where he now held two small children, weirdly at ease with them.
Poe snorted. “For one thing, he isn’t a man.”
They chatted for over an hour, mostly about Poe’s relationship with Nordik and where they lived
. Poe was surprised at how easy it was to fall back into a rhythm with Carol, even after several years of no communication. He found himself sharing things with her he never would have with any of his friends at the Agency. And she listened with a smile, genuinely interested and happy for him. He’d really missed her. She might’ve given him shit, but that was just the way relationships were.
He took her hand and brought her over to Nordik. Some of the crowd dissipated, and thankfully the children were taken away.
“Nordik, this is Carol.”
Nordik grinned and took her proffered hand. “So this is Carol. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Carol jabbed Poe with her elbow while smiling pleasantly at Nordik. “I promise that none of it’s true.”
Nordik chuckled as Poe rolled his eyes.
“Own it, Carol. Just embrace your deviant past.”
“Deviant? I was never a deviant—”
Poe snorted a laugh. “Methinks she doth protest too much.”
Carol smacked his arm this time, and Poe could see Nordik was trying to keep from laughing.
“If I was a deviant, then you were a little demon. What if I told Nordik all about it?”
“He knows.”
Carol raised her eyebrow, clearly illustrating her doubt. “Hmmm… are you sure about that? What about that time in the church when—”
“Shh!” Poe’s heart flipped, and he gripped her arm. “Dammit, Carol! Keep your voice down.”
“Hah!” Carol said, triumphant.
Poe hissed. “It’s not that I care if Nordik knows, but if my mom ever found out, she’d disown me.”
Carol sniffed but didn’t say anything more. Nordik met Poe’s eyes with a questioning expression.
Poe hunched his shoulders and jammed his good hand into his pocket. “Tell you later.”
Carol changed the subject and quickly took over the conversation. Then she began pointing out the different framed photos that covered the tables, the mantelpiece over the fireplace, and a great deal of the wall.
