by M. D. Grimm
More grunts. The Knights’ guard dogs. Before Poe could move, Odin appeared behind the grunts. The captain snapped one of their necks. The other swung around, and Odin wrenched the rifle out of the grunt’s hand before popping him good in the face. He ejected the magazine and dropped the rifle before hog-tying the grunt.
“Poe.”
“Here.” Poe came out of hiding and nodded in approval. “Let’s go.”
Odin tapped his ear radio as they walked to the basement. “Status report. Everyone sound off.”
Poe half listened to the voices coming through and walked cautiously to the basement door. Adrenaline pumped through him and his hands trembled slightly, but he managed to steady his breathing and focus on not getting him and Odin killed by negligence.
“No passcode,” Poe murmured. “Just a key.”
He stepped aside for Odin to fiddle with it and looked down the hallway that opened into the main lobby. They really had made a mess. Cracked and dented walls, scuffs and broken furniture. Bodies strewn all over, some alive and tied up, some dead. Blood was like paint on the walls and ceiling and there wasn’t a single inch of the lobby that hadn’t been touched.
Odin pushed the door open, and Poe took out his handgun before taking a step inside. He was at the top of a flight of stairs that led deep into the earth. It was dark down there as a well. Poe met Odin’s eyes a second before putting his night vision goggles back on and slowly descending. Odin made no sound and his presence was light, but Poe knew his friend was close behind him. He could smell his sweat.
Poe rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen his body armor. He didn’t notice it during the fight but now it was restricting his movements. Or at least it felt like it was. If the leader was down here, he couldn’t risk anything hindering him. Poe mentally counted the steps and after two hundred he finally hit solid ground. It was concrete and the air was chilly, and thick enough to threaten to choke him as he breathed.
Odin nudged his shoulder and nodded toward a door to their right. Poe nodded and they both approached it. After looking for any explosives or wires and determining it safe, Odin stood to the side of the door and Poe stood in front of it. Odin drew out his gun and when they counted to three, Poe called upon his strength and kicked down the door. It crashed to the floor, and Poe charged through with Odin close behind him. What met their eyes was a large room full of computers and towers full of data. All the monitors were turned off except one.
They swept the room and found no one.
Poe stood at the end of the room for a moment in silence before slamming his fist into the wall, denting it. He barely felt the pain.
“Poe,” Odin said softly. Poe seethed and swung around at him, wanting to take his anger out on someone. But Odin wasn’t looking at him—he was looking at the only monitor that was still on.
“What?” Poe snapped.
“It’s addressed to you.”
Poe stomped across the room. He shoved Odin out of his way and looked at the monitor. It didn’t have much text, but what was there sent a chill down his spine.
“Good night, Agent Poe. I applaud your attempt to capture me and destroy my organization, but I must disappoint you. It will take more than your pathetic invasion to stop me. I am not done. My mission is not complete. No matter how fast you chase me, you will never catch me. My soul is old, my resolve hard. You are nothing. And you will have nothing from me. This was a fruitless act.”
Poe looked at Odin. He wasn’t surprised that Arcas knew of him. He’d been a thorn in the leader’s side for over year now. He’d stopped a wolf shifter brainwashed by the Knights from killing more of his own kind; he’d captured one of their lackeys from kidnapping a bull shifter; and he’d stopped a jaguar shifter kidnapping ring in South America not two months ago. His name would surely be known to Arcas. Instead of scaring him, it gave him a strange sort of satisfaction.
A snapping noise captured Poe’s attention. Sparks flew into the air from one of the large data towers set against the wall. Poe cursed and radioed for Agent Pan.
“He’s rigged it for self-destruction,” Odin said.
Poe lowered his hand, helpless to stop the devastation. As more data towers sparked and smoked, Odin and Poe stepped back toward the entrance of the room.
“Move!”
Odin and Poe sidestepped to let Pan, Jin, and Persephone inside. The three leaped to the monitor with the text and started to tap the keyboard, jabbering in tech speech. Poe felt like a failure. Sure, they’d captured some of the knights, and sure, they’d infiltrated their headquarters, but their leader had gotten away, and now their data was being destroyed. Poe crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.
“How did he get out?” Poe asked. Odin glanced at him but said nothing. “Check in on everyone again. See if Isis is heading for Glenn’s herd yet.”
Then he walked around the room, far away from the sparking electronics. He took off his glove and slid his naked hand across the concrete walls, looking at the ground, feeling for any irregularities. There must be a secret passage of some sort. It was the only thing that made sense. Arcas would have to be a paranoid bastard, as the self-destructing electronics gave evidence to. Secret passages would come standard for him.
Or maybe that was his special gift. No one knew what the fae bloodline had given Arcas in the way of abilities. Could he transport himself? That would be a bitch.
“Success!”
Poe swung around as Pan and Persephone gave each other childish high-fives. Jin merely continued to work, always quiet and reserved. The sparks and smoke stopped, and the one fire that had started was quickly put out by Odin.
“Get ahold of yourself,” Poe snapped as the agents continued to make idiots of themselves. They looked at him a little sheepishly.
“We’re not done yet,” he said in a hard voice. “We have to clean this entire building out tonight. Pan and Persephone, you stay here and figure out a way to safely transport these towers. Jin, go up and find Genii and Anubis. Coordinate the cleanup with them. One of you find Captain Hera and have her team check for prisoners and any—” He paused. He took a breath. “Any shifter bodies you find, treat them with respect. We have to find their identities and families.”
Sober and chastised, the agents nodded and did as he ordered. He turned back to the walls and wanted to punch them again. But because the urge was strong, he forced himself to resist and looked at Odin. He wouldn’t be a good agent if he couldn’t get his emotions under control.
“Continue looking for a passage, Captain. If it’s not here, then that’s a clue in itself.”
Odin nodded. “Isis is on the helicopter. Glenn and Hunter are with her.”
“Hunter is all right?” Poe asked.
Odin smiled slightly. “He’s fine.”
Poe nodded. He left the room and stopped dead as he noticed another door that appeared to be carved into the concrete wall. Even in the dim light, Poe noticed the black outline and walked toward it. He held his gun at the ready and tried the doorknob. It squeaked as it opened, and it barely took Poe a second to realize what he had discovered.
Sleeping quarters.
It was an enormous room filled to the breaking point with bunk beds. Rows and rows of bunk beds. Some were made, some had blankets heaped in piles and others were flung back. Poe stepped in farther and knew that no one was in there.
Genii had been right, though he would never admit that to anyone. The way the Knights operated was eerily similar to the way the Agency operated. They each had headquarters with substations around the country, possibly the world, which moved frequently. All the members were descendants of the fae, one of the three original tribes in the Beginning. If the Agency recruiters had gotten to the younger members of the Knights before the Knights’ recruiters had, this invasion would have been so different.
Poe leaned his back against the doorjamb and refused to let disappointment and the sense of failure weigh him down. They’d scattered the Knights and
dismantled the heart of the organization, and that counted for something. It had to—because that was all he had.
Poe holstered his gun and jogged upstairs. Exhaustion was settling on his limbs, and he shook his arms and rolled his neck, trying to find his second wind. He had a long night ahead of him. And he was still waiting for Isis to report back about Glenn’s herd. He knew sleep was not in the cards for the foreseeable future.
Chapter Twelve
The helicopter dipped low over the park and Hunter felt guilt weigh him down. What if he was the reason Glenn’s herd was destroyed? He avoided Glenn’s eyes, unable to look at his mate. Instead he looked at Agent Oenghus, who was an Aryan dream come true with his pretty pale face, blond hair, and blue eyes. The agent had seen to his wounds, which weren’t serious, and gave him some painkillers. Hunter looked at the pilot again, a handsome man who must make everyone else feel inadequate. He had perfect sun-kissed skin, was tall and rangy, with curly light brown hair and bright blue eyes. He had a few freckles that only added to his golden-boy appearance.
Isis sat in the co-pilot’s seat and Hunter sat across from Glenn. He’d yet to tell his mate it was his fault the Knights had found out about his herd. The helicopter slowed and hovered. Oenghus threw open the side door.
“Careful!” he shouted at Glenn and Hunter. “Mac, get it over the front of the house.”
The pilot nodded and turned the helicopter gracefully around to hover over the driveway.
“Just do what I do!” Oenghus tossed out a heavy duty rope ladder from the open door. He grabbed it and slid out of the helicopter, climbing expertly down the ladder, despite the turbulence. Hunter’s stomach flipped and one look at Glenn told him that his mate felt the same panic.
Hunter went after Glenn.
“Ten minutes, Mac!” Isis shouted before also climbing down. Mac gave her a thumbs-up and once she reached the ground, he flew away while the four of them approached the house. A small helicopter was on the access road right outside the house, and Hunter knew the knights heard their arrival.
They didn’t get far before three knights walked out of the front door. Hunter knew all three.
“Stay here, Glenn,” Hunter said, putting a hand on Glenn’s shoulder.
“Like hell I will,” Glenn said.
Hunter glared at him and Glenn glared back. Isis and Oenghus walked past them and approached the three knights, two boys and one older woman.
“You should just give up,” Isis said. “The Knights have fallen.”
“And why,” the older woman said, “would I ever believe the words of an agent?”
“It’s true.” Hunter stepped forward, Glenn right behind him. He felt queasy and light-headed. Those three knights—they’d been his family once. Or so he had thought.
“Cecilia,” Hunter said. “John, Malcolm.” He nodded to the two men of his own age. They’d shared that little sleeping room when he’d been a kid. He’d trained with them, right beside them. But they had accepted the Knights’ ideology.
“Hunter?” John, a bulky brunet with rough, dark features, looked stunned. “What are you doing with agents?”
“Didn’t you hear?” Malcolm, a wispy blond with pale skin, looked at Hunter with disgust. “Hunter here has decided that abominations suit him better than we do.”
Cecilia glared at Hunter, her faint wrinkles digging deeper into her skin.
“No,” Hunter said, feeling pain as he looked at them. “I decided that truth suited me better than lies. The Knights lied to us, Malcolm. John, they brainwashed us.”
“Traitor,” Cecilia spat.
“All right,” Isis said, taking a step toward the knights. “Enough with the family reunion. We’re taking you in.”
“Not likely,” Cecilia said with a malicious smile. She gestured to John and Malcolm and they ran down the porch steps as she backed away toward the house. Isis had the knight in her sights and when Cecilia ran into the house, Isis was hot on her trail. Malcolm and John split off, the former tackling Oenghus, driving the agent to the ground. John bulled right at Hunter and Hunter shoved Glenn out of the way to meet his charge head on. They collided hard and Hunter barely managed to stay on his feet.
“I can’t believe—you of all people.” John threw punches and tried to get a hold on Hunter.
“Yeah,” Hunter said, panting. “Me of all people.”
John kicked Hunter’s knee, dropping him. His reflexes were slow considering the beating his mother had given him. He managed to deflect another kick from John, but he didn’t have time to struggle to his feet. Glenn jumped on John’s back and locked a forearm under his chin.
“Stay away from my mate, you fucker,” Glenn snarled into John’s ear, his skin rippling and his eyes glowing.
John looked horrified. He swung around, trying to dislodge Glenn, and Hunter managed to get to his feet. Hunter rushed at John and smashed his fist into the knight’s face multiple times, sending the knight crashing to the ground. Glenn fell with him and rolled away, kicking the knight’s still body away from him. He panted and staggered to his feet. Hunter pulled him into a fierce hug.
“Are you all right?” Glenn asked, cupping Hunter’s face, his loving green gaze sweeping over him.
“Fine,” Hunter said, only then noticing that his hand throbbed. “You?”
“All right.”
They turned back as Oenghus tied up an unconscious Malcolm. Hunter started to walk toward Glenn’s house when he heard Isis shout in fear. He broke into a run with Glenn right behind him. They swung around the house. Hunter skidded to a halt in shock and horror. Flames rose from inside Glenn’s house and Hunter watched as Cecilia chucked another Molotov cocktail through a first floor window.
Isis was unconscious on the ground.
“You bitch!” Glenn sped past Hunter and charged right at Cecilia. Hunter came back to himself and shouted at Glenn to stop.
Cecilia turned with a demonic grin and ran away, toward the forest.
“The fire, Glenn!” Hunter gripped his mate’s shoulders, stopping Glenn from following Cecilia.
“Take care of your house, Glenn.” Hunter stared into his mate’s eyes. “I’ll take care of her.”
He knew Glenn wanted to argue, but they didn’t have time. Glenn glared at him before turning and shouting at Oenghus for help. Hunter spun around and ran after Cecilia. His rage and sense of betrayal grew as he leapt over bushes and fallen trees. His lungs worked overtime as he gained on the knight. He realized that her speed was slowing. She must be tired. Good.
“Cecilia, stop!”
She didn’t, of course.
Pumping his legs, Hunter judged the distance and then launched himself at her back. He tackled her hard, and they rolled several feet across the ground, over fallen twigs, dirt, and roots. Hunter held onto her as they stopped. She struggled weakly.
“You… betrayer… you….” She was winded.
Hunter grimaced. “Get over it, bitch.” He stood and yanked her arms behind her. She still struggled but her ability wouldn’t help her. She could only see through solid walls.
Hunter pushed her forward and they made their slow way back to Glenn’s house. Hunter could smell the smoke and still see the flames as they came closer. He hurried Cecilia along and the house came into view. Isis was awake and currently trying to help Glenn and Oenghus smother the fire.
“Isis!”
Cecilia became more energetic in her struggles but Hunter knew he’d injured her when he’d tackled her. Hunter had put his full weight in the tackle and didn’t feel guilty about it. Sporting a dark bruise on her chin, a black eye and a cut forehead, Isis jogged over and pulled out a length of rope and tied Cecilia up like a turkey. The knight made noises of pain but no one paid attention.
Hunter ran back over to the house and helped with the fire. It took them longer than Hunter wanted, but they finally smothered the flames. The living room was destroyed and half of the kitchen. Hunter joined Glenn, who stood in the middle of the kitchen
. Mac had landed the helicopter next to the knights’ smaller one.
“We can rebuild,” Hunter said as gently as he could. He didn’t touch Glenn, unsure of his mate’s silence. Glenn didn’t move at all. He simply stood there, staring at the wall.
“Radio Poe, Oenghus.” Isis ordered.
“Roger that,” the agent said. They were all winded and covered with soot. Oenghus stepped out of the house as Isis approached Hunter.
“Sorry about the house,” she said.
Hunter glanced at Glenn, who remained silent. Then, Glenn took Hunter’s hand and led him outside and to the back of the house, away from Oenghus. Hunter looked back as Isis tied up John with practiced efficiency. He would never have thought the Agency would one day save his life. Mac was at the helicopter, watching the three knights, who were now all tied and gagged.
Glenn continued to put distance between them and the house. It seemed it was time for them to talk. How would Hunter explain that he had led the knights to Glenn’s home? That he had inadvertently caused the fire? How would he make up for abandoning Glenn? He was shocked that Glenn had risked so much to get him back.
They stopped walking and Glenn let go of his hand. Hunter took a deep breath but before he let any words out, Glenn had him in a kiss, a kiss he felt right to the soles of his feet. Hunter gasped and gripped Glenn’s waist, tugging him closer. Their lips were fused together, and Glenn was rough, bruising Hunter’s mouth, as if he were trying to crawl inside Hunter.
Then he wrenched his mouth away and those green eyes burned, his skin rippled.
“Don’t you ever fucking leave me again. You hear me?”
Hunter swallowed hard, genuinely afraid of his mate. “I do hear you.” He paused. “I’m so sorry, Glenn. I mean that. I just didn’t know—I saw you all die and I had to—”
“So your letter said,” Glenn said, his voice hard. He let go of Hunter and took a few steps away before turning back. “Mates don’t abandon each other, Hunter.” Hunter was ashamed of himself. “We don’t handle things like this on our own. We are mates, Hunter.” The emphasis on that one word gave evidence to Glenn’s distress. “Or don’t you want to be my mate anymore?”
