by M. D. Grimm
“Yeah, Veronica,” the plump blonde said. “You’re such a buzzkill.”
“No names, you bitch!” Veronica said.
“Don’t call me a bitch, you—”
“Shut up, both of you!” Alex said. The other man in the group, who could’ve been mistaken for a boulder, stood in the corner with a blank expression. He seemed barely concerned with the goings-on of the group. Poe wondered if he was the one who had actually done the killings. The throats of the victims had been crushed.
Alex turned to the women—presenting his back to Poe—and the three started arguing. Poe glanced at Boulder Man, but he didn’t seem to even be aware of his surroundings. During the interrogation Poe observed the group dynamics and their measly weaponry. There wasn’t much keeping them together. Their shared hatred for shifters and society in general wasn’t going to be enough to keep them united for the long haul. There was no trust or comradery. They didn’t know how to work as a team. They were insignificant people trying to be something greater.
Poe decided he’d learned all he could from these jokers. Time to bring them in and hand them over to Odin. Maybe he could squeeze a few more bits of info from them.
Rotating his jaw, Poe was relieved it was still in working order. He took a deep breath and let out a shrill whistle that shot past the crumbling walls of the warehouse and into the night. He knew it was night now. He could smell it.
“What the hell was that?” Alex said, spinning around.
“What do you think, idiot?” Veronica scowled. “He just signaled somebody. I am so out of here.”
“Wait a minute!” Alex made a grab for her, but she pointed her gun right at his face.
“I got no loyalty to you or your precious master. I don’t know why I put my lot in with you anyway. Bunch of whiny, greedy assholes.”
To Poe’s surprise, she punched Alex in the stomach with her gun and yanked a set of keys out of his pocket. The blonde flapped her hands and shrieked while Boulder tilted his head, looking puzzled.
Veronica slapped the keys into Poe’s palm before darting away. “Have at them, Agent! Just leave me out of it!”
With that she ran full speed toward the back of the warehouse. Even as Poe fumbled with the keys, Alex straightened and yelled at Boulder.
“Don’t just stand there, you fucker. Go get her!”
Now that he had a command, Boulder took off at a run toward Veronica. The blonde continued to shriek, and Alex took a step toward Poe. But that was as far as he got.
The front doors to the warehouse smashed open, and a large white bear stalked inside, growling like a creature from hell. Alex and the blonde jumped away with screams loud enough to wake the dead. Poe dropped the keys and cursed. His fingers were stiff and near useless because of the iron. He was going to have some disgusting burns after this job.
Alex recovered himself before the blonde did and jumped behind Poe’s chair. He took out his gun, his hand shaking, and pointed it at Nordik.
“S-stay away, b-beast. Stay away!”
Nordik paused, his eyes big and bright, the growls never ceasing. Poe tried to steady his breathing, but the pain was becoming too much, even with his training. The throbbing in his face worsened, and his one eye was now completely swollen shut. He felt the skin on his wrists and ankles being eaten away. He wanted to scream like the blonde was still doing.
Poe met Nordik’s eyes. Their gazes held for a moment, understanding passing between them.
“Get back!” Alex said.
Poe took a deep breath and shoved his feet against the ground, toppling over sideways. Even as he fell, Nordik launched himself in the air and tackled Alex to the ground. Poe cried out when he landed. He managed to scoot away from the chair, slipping his arms up the back until they lay loose behind him. With gritted teeth, he curled his knees to his chest and slowly worked his arms down, under his feet and to the front of his body. His breathing turned shallow, his vision darkening, but he was determined to find those damn keys. He refused to look at his burns. Not yet.
Nordik suddenly roared in pain, and Poe snapped his head up. Boulder had returned and used a fucking crowbar against Nordik’s head. Not that it would do any good. A bear’s head was the worst place to try to injure it. Their skulls were thick and hard. But that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be pain.
Nordik shook his head and stood up on his hind legs, becoming even larger, a prehistoric bear protecting its territory. He roared loud and long. The blonde finally fell silent, her eyes bugging out of her head. Even Boulder trembled at the magnitude of Nordik’s presence. Poe used the distraction to crawl over to where he finally spotted the keys. His fingers were sweaty and trembling, but he managed to find the right key and stick it in the lock. He nearly cried out with relief when he yanked off the cuffs.
His skin looked melted, bloody, with oozing puss, and he nearly puked. The pain flared brighter at the sight. He had to take a precious moment to get himself under control. You will not puke. You will not puke. He sat up and managed to release his ankles as a shot rang out.
Poe spun around to see Nordik stumble with a sharp roar of pain.
“Nordik!”
Silver. It had to be silver.
With an ashen face and a bloody and sliced body, Alex managed to sit up and aim for another shot. Poe didn’t think. For the second time since knowing Nordik, he only reacted. Without the cuffs he had his full strength back, and he launched himself at Alex, slamming him down on his stomach. The gun skittered out of his grip as Poe grabbed his head and smashed it into the concrete floor. Blood and brain matter splattered.
An instinct to danger had Poe spinning around to see the downward stroke of Boulder’s crowbar. He reached up in time and grabbed the bar, halting the descent. He called up all his strength even as Boulder blinked in astonished confusion.
Then Nordik ripped away both the crowbar and Boulder and flung them across the room, slamming them into the wall. The distinctive sound of a skull cracking echoed before the large thud of Boulder’s body slamming into the floor.
For a moment they could only hear their shared rasping breaths. Then Poe crawled over to Nordik and gripped him around the neck. Nordik nuzzled him back before licking his face. Poe grimaced, but he knew the gesture was more than affection—Nordik was cleaning up the blood and whatever other vile fluid had sprayed on him.
“Let me see.” Poe pushed Nordik to lie down. The blood and puss welling out of a puncture wound on the far-left side of his chest indicated the location of the bullet. Right above his heart. Poe’s breath hitched. Shit! That was way too close. They had to get it out before—
Nordik shuddered, and the bullet seemed to push itself out. Then it fell, steaming, to the concrete. The wound closed up and became merely red and angry.
Poe exhaled slowly. “Right. Forgot about that.” Then he let himself collapse on the floor, the pain overwhelming him.
The air shimmered and warmed. A moment later Nordik’s human face hovered over his own, worry and anger in his eyes.
“Poe?”
“The blonde,” he managed to say. “The blonde.”
Nordik looked over and cocked his head. “Seems she fainted. I never touched her.”
“Good. Bind her. And Boulder.”
“Who?”
“Big guy with the crowbar.”
“Right.”
“Don’t think Alex will be needing that treatment.”
Nordik looked over again. “No. He has no need for bindings.”
Poe closed his eye. He’d wanted to take all of them alive. Alex was the leader. But what was done was done. He knew Odin wouldn’t be pleased. He could just hear the dressing-down about working with loved ones and the risks involved. Right here was an example of why agents couldn’t have attachments and most certainly couldn’t take such attachments on assignment with them—missions became compromised because the need to protect overwhelmed the objective.
The funny thing was, if Poe had to do it over again
, he’d make the same decision. That thought should’ve scared him. Instead it comforted him. He had something—someone—to fight for. It was personal now, more than a vague notion of all shifters in the world, faceless masses who needed protecting. It was one face now, one life.
He felt Nordik pick him up, and he let himself fall into sweet, painless darkness.
“HE’LL BE just fine, Nordik,” Lila said as she pulled the blankets over Poe’s sleeping body. “He’ll need a lot of food and rest for the next couple of days, and then he’ll be in fine shape.”
“Thank you,” Nordik said softly, his eyes only for Poe.
Lila touched his arm gently before turning and walking to the door. Her partner, Phoenix, stood near the door in silence. Her dark, rich brown complexion contrasted starkly with Lila’s pale one.
“We’ll take the living knights to HQ,” Phoenix said. “They’re Odin’s problem now. Make sure Poe writes his report soon.”
“He’ll write it when he’s well,” Nordik said through gritted teeth.
“I’ve healed his most serious injuries.” Lila’s tone was soothing. “He’ll have some scarring around his wrists and ankles but none on his face. He seems proud of his scars, so I don’t think he’ll mind.”
“No agent minds their scars,” Phoenix said.
The women left, and Nordik sat on the bed in their hotel room, loving Poe with every inhale and wanting to curse him for recklessness with every exhale. This was their third mission together, and things were certainly becoming more dangerous. It had been two months since Nordik decided to join Poe on his missions, and while he didn’t regret the decision, it was wearing on him. It had been a very long while since he was in such an extended war. It was truly never-ending. Poe had done this for how many years?
Every day Nordik realized how much strength was packed into that compact body. He took Poe’s hand and ran his thumb over his bandaged wrists. The sight of his damaged flesh had nearly had Nordik killing the remaining knights in that warehouse. Rage had nearly blinded him enough to do it. But Poe had moaned in pain, and Nordik knew his task, the only task that mattered, was making sure Poe was healed and strong again. Nordik kissed the bandage and acutely remembered when they first met, the bullet wound Poe had sustained while protecting him. He lifted Poe’s left hand, now his weaker hand because of the injury, and regarded the old scar.
“You scare the shit out of me, Poe,” he whispered. “Your courage is beautiful and terrifying.”
“I could say the same.”
Nordik looked at Poe, who smiled as he opened his eyes. There was exhaustion in the blue but also the deep satisfaction of a mission completed.
“How are you?” Poe asked.
“Well. You?”
“Hungry.”
“I’ll order room service.” Nordik stood and grabbed a menu. “What do you want?”
“Everything. You need to eat too. So get everything.”
Nordik chuckled, relieved he still could. “Good idea. The Agency’s paying for it, anyway.”
Poe snickered and stretched slowly. He yawned. “Yep. Odin will gripe about it, but Lila will tell him I needed to eat. Can’t argue with the healing expert herself.”
“That would seem foolish.” Nordik picked up the phone and ordered.
DEEP INTO the night, Poe jerked awake. The dream quickly faded, but it left him jittery and paranoid. He knew a few agents who suffered PTSD, just like any other soldier. He’d always counted himself lucky he didn’t. Maybe he had a bad dream once or twice a year, but he didn’t suffer as he knew some did. He didn’t fear violence or confrontation, and he certainly wasn’t depressed. Yet even he had his low points.
The dream was worse than others. It involved Nordik. Poe rolled over and looked at Nordik’s broad back. Before Nordik, if he’d had a bad dream, he would simply get up and push himself through a hard workout. It usually worked. It was something he could control, something productive and mind-numbing.
But now he had a different way to soothe his mind. He scooted closer to Nordik and pressed against him. He kissed Nordik’s back and slipped his hand down to stroke his firm ass. Sliding his leg over Nordik’s hip, he rubbed his growing erection against Nordik’s smooth skin. Poe heard Nordik grunt, and he grinned as he lazily spread kisses from one shoulder to the other. Nordik shuddered and pushed back, trailing his fingers down Poe’s leg to his hip, his ass. Poe moaned and bit Nordik’s shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. Nordik plunged his fingers between Poe’s asscheeks and pressed hard against his hole.
“I want you,” Poe whispered, languidly humping Nordik right above his ass. “I need you.” He was now painfully hard and needing release.
Nordik groaned again, and Poe heard the sound of riffling through a drawer before Nordik handed him their bottle of lube. Grinning, Poe pushed up to Nordik’s face. His eyes were glowing in the darkness, bright with desire and need. Poe found it the sexiest thing ever. He kissed Nordik long and hard. His mouth alone was enough to ease Poe’s mind and banish the dream. Their tongues played and danced, and Poe gripped Nordik’s head, wanting him to know, needing him to know, Poe cherished every second they had together. He would never take it for granted.
He reached down to grab Nordik’s cock and found it as hard as his own. He stroked it a few times, relishing the feel of it in his hand, lovingly remembering the way it filled him and stretched him. But this time he wanted to do the filling and stretching.
Nordik had told him up front he’d never bottomed for anyone else. Ever. And the guy had been alive for centuries. Poe knew what that meant, and it only deepened his love and devotion, if that was possible.
Poe pulled back, and Nordik rolled onto his stomach. Poe lubed his fingers and probed his tight ass. Nordik pushed back against his fingers, but Poe took his time. Nordik didn’t bottom often, and he was still getting used to it. Nordik stroked his own cock as Poe pushed in with three well-lubed fingers, thrusting and rotating. He watched and listened to Nordik, wanting this good for both of them.
“Holy fuck, Poe! Now.” Then he said a few other words in what Poe assumed was Algonquian. He’d yet to find time to read up on that language. He told himself he needed to.
Poe withdrew his fingers and was generous with the lube on his erection. He took a deep breath and ordered himself to be patient as he worked his way inside. But apparently he was going too slow because Nordik cursed again and pushed back, impaling himself completely. Poe gasped but didn’t have time to steady himself because Nordik kept moving, kept impaling. Poe gritted his teeth and gripped Nordik’s hips before he slammed back. If Nordik wanted it rough, he’d oblige. They quickly found a rhythm, and it was brutal and unforgiving. Nordik’s sounds could be mistaken for pain, but Poe knew they weren’t. Nordik rapidly stroked his cock and never ceased in his movement.
“Close, baby,” Poe said on a gasp. “Close.”
“Then come inside me,” Nordik said. Demanded.
With two more thrusts, Poe did as he was told. Nordik’s release sprayed on the bed underneath him, and they both groaned and collapsed in a sweaty and sticky heap.
Poe caught his breath first and moved up to where he could see Nordik’s face. Nordik’s eyes flashed open, and they were warm and satisfied. Nordik rolled onto his side and slipped his arms around Poe, pulling him close. Poe came happily and hugged him back.
“I love your ass.”
Nordik chuckled. “I have great affection for yours as well.”
Poe laid kisses along Nordik’s chin and neck. “I’ve never seen you that… into it before.”
Nordik lowered his gaze and held Poe’s. “I needed you, just as you needed me. I didn’t care how I got you.”
Poe rubbed his knuckles over Nordik’s face, seeing the dregs of fear. “I want to tell you not to worry about me. That I’m tough and I always bounce back. But that would be useless, wouldn’t it?”
Nordik stroked Poe’s spiky hair. “As useless as me telling you that you don’t need t
o worry about me because I’m hard to kill and nigh immortal.”
Poe held his gaze. “You’re not going to ask me to quit, are you?”
Nordik raised an eyebrow. “Why would you say that?”
“I want us on the same page.”
“Knights are killing my brethren, and now yours, wholesale. I don’t see either of us ever walking away.”
Relief had Poe breathing easier. “I love you, bear.”
Nordik’s gaze softened, and he pressed his forehead against Poe’s. “I love you, Agent.”
IT WAS disappointing to know the knights they had managed to take alive didn’t know anything. It appeared they’d lost any extra information they needed with the knight whose head Poe smashed in.
Poe sat on the edge of Odin’s desk. Odin leaned back in his chair and shrugged. It was just the two of them in Odin’s office, allowing them to be more informal with each other than they would be otherwise.
“You win some, you lose some.”
There wasn’t any need to ask if Odin was sure the other two knights knew nothing. He was always sure. His techniques could make the most loyal and devoted minion sing like a canary. It wasn’t something to be proud of, but it was a grim necessity.
“I take full responsibility.”
Odin rolled his eyes. Not many got to see him so expressive. “Let it go, Poe. Just let it go. What’s done is done. Just try to capture more on your next mission, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Poe sighed. “How are the others doing?”
“A fair job, I’d say. Isis captured two, though four escaped. Genii and Hecate got four each. But we seem to just be getting soldiers here and there. None of the lieutenants or captains. And we’re not getting an inch closer to Gregor. He’s not a fucking ghost. It shouldn’t be this hard.”