Kindred Truths

by M. D. Grimm

  “Hell yes!” Poe kept a hold of his legs, gazing up at Nordik’s face, panting heavily. “About time.”

  Nordik leaned forward and bit Poe’s lower lip. He soon had three fingers shoved inside, driving Poe crazy with his stretching and rotating. Poe claimed his mouth, whimpering and shuddering, his body trembling on the edge.

  Finally Nordik gave them both what they wanted. He pulled his fingers out and shoved his cock in. Poe arched his back off the bed as he gave a shout. Nordik stood up and gripped Poe’s hips before he pulled out, only to shove back in even harder. Poe took him eagerly, his eyes never leaving Nordik’s face. Their gazes met and held as Nordik pushed them to completion. The sight of Poe sprawled out on the bed, his legs wide open, his body warm and welcoming, made Nordik’s blood run hot, made his love deepen until it was as much a part of him as his arms or his eyes.

  As he came closer to completion, Nordik lay down on Poe and claimed his mouth, needing more connection. He never faltered in his thrusts, and he vaguely realized he was moving the bed. Poe snapped his arms and legs around Nordik and kissed him back hungrily.

  “Mine. Mine,” Nordik said against his lips.

  “Mine,” Poe said on a grunt.

  Nordik gripped Poe’s swollen cock and jerked him to completion as he felt himself tip over the edge. Poe’s body stiffened as his cum painted their stomachs white. Nordik snapped his hips once more and came inside Poe. He muffled his roar against the crook of Poe’s neck and shoulder. Poe’s grip on him never loosened, and they held each other as they both came down.

  “Holy shit,” Poe eventually said.

  Nordik nuzzled him. “Yeah.”

  “Now I really need a bath.”

  Nordik smiled. “May I join you?”

  “You think you had a choice not to?”

  Nordik chuckled. “What was I thinking?”

  “SOMEONE HAD fun last night,” Bronach said when Poe and Nordik entered the kitchen the next morning.

  Nordik was amused to see Poe blush and duck his head to get some coffee. For himself, he wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. Every healthy mating should involve sex. But then again, his tribe had been very open and frank on the matter. He grew up knowing and revering the intimacy of married people. Nowadays there was a strange dichotomy between prudishness and using sex to advertise.

  Bronach smiled and winked at him, and Nordik smiled back. She’d told him yesterday she couldn’t be happier to see her son with someone, to see for herself Poe was happy. Then she’d hugged him. Nordik felt Poe’s parents fully accepted him, and that, more than anyone else’s approval, touched him and gave him joy.

  “Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Byron,” she said.

  “Oh. Right. Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Mom. Where’s Dad?” Poe asked after his first generous sip of coffee.

  “Oh, you know your father. Already up and out in the field. I don’t understand that man sometimes. You’d think he has something against sleep.”

  Poe chuckled.

  “So what do you two have planned today?”

  Nordik shrugged as Bronach handed him a plate full of a generous heaping of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast. The scent had been driving him insane, and he graciously accepted it. She gave the same amount to Poe, and he grinned before kissing her on the cheek. The obvious love between mother and son warmed his heart.

  Poe sat across from Nordik at the table and dug in. “I figured we’d go sightseeing. I want to show Nordik around.”

  “And in this way, you’ll avoid the family,” Bronach said, eyes twinkling.

  Poe looked at his mother innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s well and good, really. Most of the family took off to join in on the parade in Galway. They won’t be back for several hours. And a few of the more ambitious went over to Dublin.”

  “Parade?”

  Poe glanced at Nordik. “St. Patrick’s Day parade. Galway has one that runs for a few hours. But Dublin has a freaking weeklong extravaganza. Been there once. Never again.”

  Bronach chuckled as she sat down at the table. “You’ll have to go again, Byron, to show Nordik what it’s all about.”

  Poe grunted.

  Nordik smiled. “I am curious. But we can do that another time.”

  Poe muttered something under his breath, and Bronach winged an eyebrow. “What did you say, young man?”

  “Nothing,” Poe said quickly. He shoved eggs into his mouth.

  “ADMIT IT,” Nordik said as they walked down the sidewalk. “You’re glad you came. You’re glad you were forced into this vacation.”

  “I admit nothing,” Poe said with a sniff. But he grabbed Nordik’s hand and held it as they walked.

  The town was peaceful and laid-back. “Quaint” was perhaps the best word. Taking a deep breath of fresh hair, Nordik hoped they got the chance to visit this place many times in the future. He enjoyed the sights and smells of Ireland, the architecture, and the rolling green hills. Here were shades of green he hadn’t seen in too many years to count. His people’s lands used to be this green.

  Poe explained that some of the shops were closed so people could participate in the parade. But there were still tourists “oohing” and “ahhing” over the trinkets in the few shops that remained open.

  As they strolled, Poe told him a few humorous stories of himself and Carol when they were teens. Nordik only shook his head at such antics.

  “When Carol and I got together, look out!” Poe laughed. “I honestly wasn’t that bad back in the States during the school year. But when I came here for the summer months, there was just no way I could say no to Carol. We enabled each other for sure. Thank God we weren’t caught during some of our stupider moments. My dad would have smacked me black and blue, and deservedly so.”

  Poe stopped walking and fell silent. Nordik looked at the large stone church and tilted his head in interest. While he thought the tenants of Christianity were agreeable, he noticed not a lot of self-professed Christians followed them. He retained the natural spiritual beliefs of his people and was content.

  He glanced at Poe and saw he looked uncomfortable.

  “Byron?”

  Poe blinked and shook his head. “Sorry. Memories.”

  “You used to go to church?”

  “Yeah. Long time ago.” Poe shot him a grin. “Used to be a good Catholic boy. Not so much anymore. Mom still goes. But my dad’s a proud pagan. I was always given the choice. But knowing the world the way I do, I just fell out of believing in a lot of the stories and the priests who claim to know what an almighty God thinks. Kind of arrogant, if you ask me.”

  Nordik made a noise of agreement.

  Poe sighed. “Still.”

  He tugged Nordik with him, and they entered the church. The large doors stood wide open, welcoming everyone. They skipped the holy water pedestals and passed into the nave. Nordik looked around, at the pews, altar, and the windows, impressed by the grandeur. It certainly wasn’t as big as the churches in the US or mainland Europe, but it was regal and well-structured for a smaller town. And it was old. He could tell it was old.

  “Not much has changed,” Poe said quietly. A few people were inside praying or gazing in deep thought at the stained-glass windows.

  Nordik half expected Poe to drop his hand as they strolled down the aisle, but if anything, Poe tightened his grip. Nordik well knew the hostility most religious sects had toward homosexuality and made sure he was prepared if anyone decided to make their opinion known.

  A nun suddenly passed right in front of them. She was perhaps around thirty years old and lithe as a willow. He took a deep breath and found it interesting a shifter would become a nun. A larger sniff told him she was a bird shifter of some sort.

  Poe seemed to notice her as well and started in surprise. “Abby?”

  The nun stopped short and looked back in shock. Then her eyes widened, and she grinned.

  “Byron! Well doesn’t this beat all?”
r />   Poe dropped Nordik’s hand and took a step toward her. “You’re a nun? How the he—um, heck, did that happen?”

  Abby seemed to understand Poe’s near slip and chuckled as she approached. But then she stopped short as if just then noticing Nordik. Her face paled, and her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and wonder. She ducked her head, and he realized she would have bowed or even curtsied if they’d been alone.

  Poe stilled. Then he slowly looked back at Nordik and raised an eyebrow. Nordik read it plainly and nodded in answer. Poe gaped for an instant before turning back when Abby raised her head. Poe stepped closer and lowered his voice.

  “You’re a shifter?”

  She looked at Poe. “You’re accompanying a master shifter?”

  “Well, um. We’re mated.”

  She gasped. She looked between the two of them several times before gaining control over herself. The few people in the church were starting to notice them. She gestured for them to follow, and they walked out the back of the church into a small cemetery that also acted as a garden. It was a pleasant place despite the morbid purpose.

  “How did I not know you were a shifter?” Poe asked, his voice still low even though no one could be seen.

  “I didn’t exactly advertise it, Byron,” Abby said as she sat on a bench.

  “Poe,” he said. “I go by Poe now.”

  Abby frowned in puzzlement. “Why?”

  “I’m with the Agency.”

  The flash of recognition in her eyes showed Poe that he didn’t need to explain what that was. She then looked at Nordik, now with more wonder than fear.

  “Jeez, I’m awful.” Poe turned to him. “This is Abby. We were friends for a couple of years before her family moved away when we were, what, seventeen?”

  “I think so, yes. And it’s Sister Mary Catherine now.”

  “Right. Okay. I guess you came back.”

  “About two years ago.”

  “And you’re a nun.”

  She smiled. “It was my calling.”

  Poe nodded.

  “And you’re mated to a master shifter.”

  Poe smiled and took Nordik’s hand. “Yep. This is Nordik, the master bear shifter.”

  Abby stood up then and bowed deeply. “It is an honor, my lord.”

  Nordik lifted a hand. The bow he could accept, but honorary titles made him uncomfortable. “Nordik will be fine.”

  Her expression warmed for a moment but then became troubled. “Well, perhaps your coming was destined. There’s been some violence against the shifters who call this place home.”

  Nordik’s muscles tightened, and he felt Poe tense beside him.

  “You’re sure?” Poe said.

  “It can’t be coincidence. In this town alone, we’ve seen a spike in vandalism and destruction of property. There’s been one violent mugging so far. All the targets are shifters, their businesses and homes. The gardai are investigating the best they can, but these aren’t regular crimes.” She shook her head. “The shifters are already thinking of taking the law into their own hands once they find out who’s doing it. It won’t take long. Once they get the scent of the vandals….”

  Nordik instantly thought of Sean and hoped, for Poe’s sake, he was wrong.

  Chapter Ten

  POE SPOKE with Abby a little longer before leaving and going on the hunt for Sean. He didn’t have to say anything to Nordik to know he thought the same. Poe didn’t want his gut to be right, but he’d spent enough time in this war, among the enemy, to know when it was on point. It didn’t mean Sean was in league with the Knights. Not yet, anyway. Sean knew about shifters; their entire family did. None of them thought one way or another about it. A few had even dated shifters. So why was Sean so hostile toward them?

  “If it is Sean,” Poe said, “we can’t let the shifters exact their own brand of justice. That’ll explode the situation. We need to take care of this quick.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  While Poe called Carol to learn possible hangouts for Sean, Nordik visited a couple of the local shifter shopkeepers. Poe stood on the sidewalk as Nordik questioned a particularly aggrieved-looking proprietor who was gesturing wildly in agitation. It didn’t surprise Poe that Nordik could turn even the most reluctant shifter into a nonstop talking motor. He was a master shifter, after all, and most, if not all, would be happy to have his help.

  Poe listened to Carol’s worry about Sean not coming home last night. Poe hoped Sean was still in town. “We’ll find him, Carol. Consider me a dog that’s caught a scent. I won’t give up.”

  “I know By—um, Poe. I know.”

  Poe smiled slightly. He hung up when Nordik stepped out of the shop.

  “Well?” he said when Nordik reached him.

  “Jeremy has spoken with several other business owners, all shifters, and there seems to be a disturbing relation between the vandalisms.”

  “Like what?”

  “Nothing was stolen. It’s as if they were looking for something. And there was no scent.”

  Poe narrowed his eyes until they were slits of blue fire. “Come again?”

  Nordik gripped his arm, his own eyes glinting with a fierce light. “There wasn’t a scent for the shifters to track, Poe. You and I have encountered such a phenomenon before, haven’t we?”

  Poe gritted his teeth. “Same fucking sorcery Arcas and his minions used when they captured me as bait for you. Dammit!”

  Poe turned away and paced the sidewalk, earning some wary looks from passing pedestrians, but he was too steamed to care.

  “It doesn’t mean Sean’s a part of it. There’s still no proof that he is.”

  Nordik said nothing. But he thought awfully loud. Poe threw him a look. Nordik’s broad face was stone, and his hands were in his pockets. The wind came up and ruffled his snow-white hair, his dark eyes intent on Poe.

  “They were looking for something,” Nordik said softly. “What does Arcas want more than anything?”

  “Fuck.” The scrolls. The damn scrolls. “Why would he think one of those things was here in Ireland?”

  “I can’t say.”

  Poe blew out a long breath and scrubbed his hand over his face. “We have to find Sean. That’s first.”

  “Agreed.”

  A couple of hours later, they finally found him loitering outside a mart with a few other similarly dressed juveniles. They all appeared to be looking for trouble.

  “Wait here,” Poe said.

  Nordik growled.

  Poe gripped his arm, met his eyes. “Wait here. He definitely won’t talk to me if you’re with me. Stay out of sight.”

  Nordik’s eyes glowed in frustration, but he silently did as Poe said. Poe looked back at Sean and wondered how he should approach the situation. Was Sean a troubled family member, or a knight? Someone who needed guidance, or the enemy?

  As Poe neared, Sean noticed him. A glimmer of pure contempt entered his dark eyes, and Poe knew, with a falling heart, what his approach should be.

  “Sean,” Poe said once he was in earshot. “I need to speak with you.”

  “Get lost,” Sean said. Two of his companions sneered at him. Poe didn’t even glance at them. Malcontented youths weren’t his problem yet. But he filed away their faces, suspecting he’d need to recognize them later.

  “I’m not going anywhere. We need to talk.”

  Sean flicked his cigarette butt at Poe’s face before turning to leave. Poe lashed out with his good arm, gripped Sean’s, and twisted it up behind Sean’s back, effectively stopping his movement. Sean gasped and had to rise on his toes to alleviate the pressure. If Poe applied any more, he’d break Sean’s arm.

  Sean’s four friends stopped short and stared in shock at the little guy with big muscles currently holding their friend, by all accounts, effortlessly.

  “We need to talk, Sean,” Poe said calmly. “Now.”

  “Right. Fine. Let go. Let go!”

  Poe let go. Sean stumbled and rubbed his arm, scowling
. Poe flicked his glance at the friends and jerked his head. They ran off. Sean tried to appear tough again and resituated his jacket in an attempt at nonchalance.

  “What the fuck you want?”

  Poe didn’t see any need to beat around the bush. “Why are you and your friends vandalizing shape-shifter businesses?”

  Sean stilled and tried to keep his face blank. But Poe saw the pride and arrogance in Sean’s eyes, and his stomach tightened.

  “What the fuck you talkin’? Look, I don’t know what my fucking mam told you, but—”

  “Your mom doesn’t know anything yet,” Poe said. “You’re going down a dangerous path, Sean. A dark one. You go down far enough, you’ll never get off. Ever. Then you’ll encounter a shifter who will happily chew on your neck. Or you’ll encounter the Agency. Me. And we won’t be any more merciful.”

  Sean swallowed hard and tore his gaze away from Poe’s. Poe knew Sean saw the truth in his eyes. He knew Sean saw the depth of Poe’s devotion and the coldness of his resolve.

  “Where do you get the right to harm them?” Poe said, voice hardening. “Where do you get the right to determine you’re better than them? Huh? Why do you find pleasure in the misery of others?”

  “You don’t know a thing. Not a goddamn thing!”

  “Then tell me.”

  “They—they’re abominations that must be destroyed! The world has to be cleansed!” Sean said in a voice seething with manic devotion.

  Poe froze. He gazed at the young face he’d known for years and looked at a stranger.

  “Oh, Sean. No. No, they’re not.” Poe shook his head. “They are as natural as you and me. More so. They are closer to nature than we are. Arcas is lying to you.”

  Sean’s eyes flared. “He’s a god, you sinner!”

  Poe blamed his sliced heart for his delayed reaction. Sean punched Poe full in the face, and Poe realized two things: One, the delusional teen really shouldn’t have gotten a punch in since he’d telegraphed his entire intention; and two, Carol had been right about Sean having an ability.