Morgan's Fate

by Dana Marie Bell

  “Are you going to leave?”

  She stared at him.

  “Skye.”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “Not now, Morgan.” Skye was startled when Magnus put his hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Kiss the girl later.” Magnus’s expression was apologetic. “She’s right, and I’m sorry I snapped at both of you. The only way we’re going to figure this out and keep Skye safe is if we work together.”

  Morgan slowly lowered Skye to her feet. He wasn’t even strained from holding her. It was as if she’d weighed less than nothing to him.

  She forgot, looking at him, that he was strength embodied. If he wanted, he could probably take even Jörmungandr, the World Serpent, and tie him in a knot.

  Morgan pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  She bit her lip. He was so affectionate toward her. It had been years since someone had just been casually affectionate. None of her boyfriends had absently loved on her the way Morgan did, and it made him all the more attractive. And when they made love, they both knew in their hearts what they’d been unwilling to say.

  “Morgan?”

  Morgan took a reluctant step away from her, and her skin actually hurt for wanting his touch. He stroked her cheek softly. “Soon.”

  Her breath hitched. They’d made love again since that day in the kitchen, but they’d confined themselves to Morgan’s bedroom. “Soon.”

  Morgan turned from her back to his brother. “Let’s do this.”

  Yes, please. She licked her lips as Morgan walked away from her, his gait strong, sensuous. She was such a goner.

  Let’s so do this.

  It was late, he was tired, and damn if he didn’t just want to collapse into bed, preferably with a certain blonde tucked tightly by his side. They’d found Mjolnir, but neither Morgan nor Magnus had been able to get it to change size from the tiny silver pendant to the great war hammer their father had wielded. They’d spent hours trying different things to get the damn pendant to change size.

  Hell, at one point, when Skye was in the bathroom, Magnus had even chanted that fucking Wonder Twins thing in sheer desperation.

  So here they were, sitting in Kir’s living room and listening to the murmur of his family’s voices as they discussed…whatever it was Jamie and Jeff were on about this time. He thought for a fleeting second he’d heard the name Vincente and groaned.

  Please, no gold lamé briefs. I’ll be scarred for life.

  Skye was still upset over their inability to get Mjolnir to obey them. She’d absently curled up in his lap when he tugged her down, placing her head against his shoulder with an exhausted yawn. The trust she was showing him was devastating. She’d actually listened to him and fallen asleep to the quiet chatter of his family, snug and secure in his arms. Morgan was beyond pleased with that. The only way having Skye in his lap could be better would be if they were both naked. Right where she belonged.

  Morgan cuddled her closer, smiling as she sighed, her breath warm against his neck. He caught Fenris’s eye, smiling when the wolf nodded at him. Fenris understood, the wolf’s gaze constantly drawn to his mate, watchful and protective.

  Morgan would pull down the moon for Skye.

  “Hey.”

  Morgan turned to find Kir holding out a key. He took it and stared at the plain M&M embossed on the key ring. “What’s this?”

  Kir shrugged, looking embarrassed. “For some reason, I keep thinking you and Magnus aren’t going to be living together for much longer.” His gaze darted to Skye, who was snoring lightly in Morgan’s embrace. Who would have thought a Fate could be so fucking adorable? “Magnus is going to find his own destiny soon, and I think…”

  “What?” Morgan kept his voice low. He didn’t want to wake Skye. She’d been through enough traumas for the evening.

  “I think…” Kir smiled at where his own lovers sat, talking quietly to one another. Jordan was holding Logan’s hand, and whatever they were discussing had Logan smiling in a way he reserved solely for his lovers. “I think your brother’s fate is going to be more like mine.” He held up two keys, each with a peanut M&M on the key chain.

  “Huh.” Now that was a surprise, and yet it wasn’t. Magnus with two lovers? Having two people to tame his rage made perfect sense. He’d seen his brother casting his eye toward both sexes, even if he’d tried to hide that interest from their father and grandfather. “One of them will be male.” Morgan was as certain of that as he was that Skye belonged to him.

  Kir shrugged again. “I think so.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t explain how I know, I just do. Like I know Val will also find someone, and that Jörmungandr and Sleipnir will come home, but that Hel is already home and won’t be joining us.” He held up a fourth key with a seashell embossed on the key chain. “And neither Sleipnir nor Jörmungandr will be alone for long.”

  “Thank fuck. Any idea how we’re going to get Sleipnir home?” Jordan put her hand over Logan’s.

  “Not yet. Val has a few ideas, but mostly they consist of ‘let’s storm the castle.’”

  “I like storming the castle. You either get the dragon or the princess. Either way, you win.” Everyone stared at Magnus. “What?”

  Morgan chuckled. Magnus was free to pursue his interests just as Morgan was. He wished his brother luck. “Anyone else moving in that we need to worry about?”

  Kir sighed. “I’ve made the key, but I don’t know if it will ever get used.” He held up a key that had a shield on it.

  A police shield? Morgan squinted, trying to get a clearer look, but Kir tucked it back into his pocket. “Is that for who I think it’s for?”

  “If she wants it, yes.”

  “Good.” Antonia Morelli was one of them, whether the stubborn human liked it or not. A mortal with the blood of Valkyries in her, she’d used her powers to help Jeff heal after Grimm nearly skinned him alive. They all owed her more than they could ever repay. Fenris had gone so far as to declare her family, and if he knew Logan and Kir it wouldn’t be long before the police detective was sharing blood with them as well.

  If Toni moved in with them, Morgan would welcome her with open arms. He glanced down at the top of Skye’s head. Well, as long as he didn’t have an armful of Norn, that was. “I hope she accepts. She belongs with us.”

  “She does.” Kir stroked Skye’s hair away from her face, revealing the affection Kir seemed to have for all those he’d chosen to take under his wing. He could see why Jordan had given the blonde her heart. The man had a huge one of his own. “Take her home, Morgan. She needs you more than she needs the rest of us.”

  “Are you sure?” Hope pounded through him. Was this Kir’s blessing to the union Morgan wanted so desperately with Skye?

  “She’s lost everything all over again. The person she was, the person she thought she was. Even though she’s hiding it pretty well she’s got to be torn up inside, and it seems that, other than Val, you’re the one she trusts the most to protect her.”

  He would. He would protect her from anything. Even himself. “I would, with my life.”

  He tried not to jostle Skye as Jeff slapped him upside the head. “No dying. Geeze, what is it with the Grimm family? One more person declares a death wish, and I’m biting their ass. Hard.”

  “We’re not Grimms anymore.”

  Morgan held back a sigh. Damn it, Magnus. He’d just gotten cozy, too.

  Morgan glanced over at his twin, who shrugged. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted that out.” Magnus batted his lashes. “Forgive me? Pleeeeease?”

  Morgan bit back a laugh. “Dickhead.”

  Magnus grinned.

  “What?” Jamie was glancing back and forth between them, obviously confused.

  “Did Logan marry you to someone without telling you first?” Jordan shot Logan an annoyed glance, one he returned with the devilish smirk Morgan was more than familiar with seeing on his face.

  “No, Logan didn’t marry us. We…” Magnus
turned to Kir, who was smiling and nodding like a proud papa. “We decided we’d rather be Tates.”

  Jeff’s startled breath was nearly drowned out by Jamie’s soft “Oh!”

  “You’re a Yardley-Rudiger now, sweetheart.”

  “And you’re a Saeter, elskede,” Fenris growled softly.

  “I know, but I think I want my maiden name to be changed to Tate.”

  “I agree. We’re more Kir’s family now than the Old Man’s.”

  “You’re Fred’s children.” Morgan followed everyone else’s gaze to see Jeanne Grimm standing in the doorway of the spare bedroom, staring at her children through tear-filled eyes. “Hate Oliver Grimm all you want. Rant and rave, plan to kill him. Hell, I am. But your father was Fred Grimm, a good man with a good heart. Don’t disown your father for the actions of your grandfather.”

  “We could make Fred a Tate too, Jeanne.” Logan smiled at Jeanne. “It would mean a lot to Kir to have all of his family back, including you and Fred.”

  Kir nodded, but Jeanne shook her head. “No. I’m a Grimm. Oliver isn’t taking that away from me, not now, not ever.” She grimaced. “I can understand the temptation to get Oliver out of every part of your lives, but you can’t. Every family tree has a few rotten nuts. I’m not chopping the whole tree down for that. I’m just going to crush the nuts.”

  Morgan resisted the urge to cross his legs the way Logan had. That might wake Skye. “Point taken.”

  “We, Morgan and I, have changed our names a number of times over the centuries.” Magnus’s soft words brought Jeanne’s attention back to him. “Sometimes we shared Dad’s last name, sometimes we didn’t. But that never made him any less our father.”

  Travis nodded. “And someday, our names will change again.”

  “We’ll hide in plain sight, just like we always have.” Kir’s expression was sympathetic. “And when we share blood, and immortality, you’ll do the same.”

  Jeanne looked away from Kir, her lip quivering before her chin firmed. “Then maybe I won’t become immortal. Not if it means giving up Fred.”

  “Mom?”

  Jeff sounded shaken, but he was standing behind Morgan. He couldn’t see his brother.

  Jeanne smiled at her son. “Don’t worry, baby boy, I’m not ready to start my bucket list yet.” She winked, but Morgan could tell it was half-hearted at best. “I’ll think about all of this.”

  “No matter what you decide, you will always be the wife of Thor.” Kir stepped forward and hugged Jeanne. “You’ll always be my sister-in-law, no matter what.”

  Strong, cheerful Jeanne, who had held strong in the face of Frigg, who’d learned only a few short days ago that her husband had been lying to her from the beginning, who’d stood up to Fenrisùlfr and demanded to see her son when he was injured, finally broke down, sobbing on Kir’s shoulder like a woman who had lost her entire world, and her children weren’t far behind her.

  “Hey.” He looked up to see Logan cuddling Jordan. “Take Skye home. Make sure she gets some rest, and keep her from leaving this floor unless one of us is with her. For all she’s a Norn, she’s no warrior.”

  Morgan was more than aware of that. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

  Skye sighed against his neck and cuddled closer. It took everything Morgan had not to match that contented little sound.

  Chapter Nine

  It had been two weeks since they’d found Mjolnir, two weeks since Skye had moved in with him. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen.” Skye turned on her heel and began again. “One, two, three, four—”

  “What are you doing?”

  Skye stopped counting and looked up at Morgan. “Counting the steps of my prison cell.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’ve only been here two weeks.”

  “Two weeks without fresh air. Five. Two weeks—six—without Starbucks and my grande caramel Frappuccino. Seven. Two weeks—”

  “—without a vision.” Morgan shrugged. “You take the good with the bad.”

  She stopped again. “True.”

  He held out his hand and smiled. “Nothing bad has happened for three weeks. No burning men, no suddenly revealed pasts.” His smile dimmed. “No deaths.”

  She sighed and took it, shivering slightly. She could get used to the feel of his skin. It warmed her when little else could. Hell, even his home made her feel warm.

  She glanced around feeling more and more at home here with every second. Where Jordan, Logan and Kir’s condo was all bright whites and pale blues, glass and chrome and light woods, Morgan’s condo was full of warmth. Whether he realized it or not, he’d done his condo in a warmer, more inviting version of his twin’s. He’d decorated with burnt umber and rich golden-browns. The furniture was plush and soft, rounded where Magnus’s was sharp, inviting you to sink into it with a good book and a mug of cocoa. The fireplace was surrounded with stone, which would have looked cold except he’d chosen orange-and beige-toned stones to complement the decor. The hardwood floors were hand scraped and soothing against bare feet. Even the lamps, with their gold and orange swirled bases, made her feel all toasty inside.

  She hadn’t realized how cold she’d been, how alone, until she stepped into the warmth of Morgan Tate’s home and thawed. Not even Magnus’s condo appealed to her as much as Morgan’s did.

  Still, she wasn’t sure she should stay here. It would be so easy to get used to living with Morgan. “I could go back to my condo.” It was the same thing she’d been saying every day for two weeks. Every day it came out less and less sure.

  She didn’t want to be alone. She’d been alone all her life, and now she got to be with Morgan. Hell, she’d even put up with Jordan’s obsession with pineapple if it meant keeping Morgan in her life.

  He stroked her palm, his expression warming as her breath hitched. She bet he could seduce a nun without half trying. “I could paint my toenails pink too.”

  She tilted her head, fighting a grin. “Only if you use the glittery kind.”

  He laughed. “C’mon, you.” He tugged her forward, and she allowed him to tuck her under his arm. Really, the man was simply massive. The top of her head barely reached his chin. “Lunch is ready.”

  Morgan had been an incredible roommate and a generous lover, giving her the guest bedroom for her office and refusing her offers to help with the cooking. And honestly, he was a better cook than she was, so that was working out far better than she’d thought it would. She’d chosen to take over the dishes, dusting and vacuuming, and each took care of their own laundry. In all respects except one, he treated her like a treasured roommate, allowing her to pick movies more than half the time and letting her alone when she told him she needed time to herself. Hell, he’d even been caught researching ways to turn the third bedroom into a darkroom for her.

  And, oh gods, she could so get used to the constant, heated glances, the soft touches to her arms, her hands, her hair. He was doing everything in his power to prove to her that she was safe with him, that he wanted her to the exclusion of all else.

  She had to admit, it was working. Instead of constantly blushing and stammering, his gentle touches and warm regard were whittling away at any resistance that she might have had. Not that she’d had all that much. Her memories had completely returned, except for the one large, gaping hole where the changed prophecy resided. She still didn’t know what she’d done to alter things.

  Before she could sit down to the tuna melts he’d made for their lunch, her phone rang. She sighed, knowing her sandwich would be good and soggy before she got a chance to bite into it, but something she couldn’t explain demanded that she answer the phone immediately. “Hello?”

  “It’s me.”

  Her gaze darted to Morgan as she recognized the shaky, terrified voice. “Sleipnir.”

  “I don’t have a lot of time. The ravens are watching.”

  The ravens. Odin’s ravens? Oh, shit. If h
e was calling them while the ravens watched, it was bad. “What’s wrong?”

  “Beware Heimdall.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t. They’re watching, and I have to go. He’s going to come for me soon, so I don’t have much time.”

  “Wait! Why should we beware Heimdall?”

  “He’s going to kill my father. Warn him. Watch. Keep away from the Guardian.” A stuttering breath later, Sleipnir whined. “Oh, shit. I have to go!”

  The phone clicked as Loki’s child hung up the phone. “Morgan.”

  “I heard. C’mon.”

  They left their lunch and darted across the hall to Logan’s condo, both of them pounding on the door until a tousled-looking Jordan pried it open. “What?”

  “Sleipnir called.”

  Jordan cursed quietly and opened the door further. “C’mon in. Logan’s going to want to hear this.” They followed the pregnant woman into the house. It was obvious that she’d been in bed, but whether she’d been alone, Skye wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  Of course, when Kir came into the room wearing nothing but a skin-tight black tank top and jeans, his feet bare, she thought maybe she could handle hearing a few details. When Logan followed his lovers with a yawn, his chest bare, his jeans zipped but not buttoned, she was certain of it.

  She wanted Morgan, but she wasn’t dead, and those were two examples of prime grade-A beef.

  “What’s up?” Kir’s lazy grin faded as he took in their expressions. “What happened?”

  “Sleipnir called.” Morgan led Skye to the dining table, the one that had enough room for all the Aesir and the Vanir who’d chosen to follow Kir. “He had a message for you, Logan.”

  Logan’s expression tightened. “What did my son say?”

  “Beware the Guardian. He seems to think that Heimdall is going to kill you.” Skye settled in her chair with a smile of thanks. No matter what, Morgan always saw to her needs before anything. “Thing is, I don’t remember anything about it in the prophecies.”

  The two men exchanged glances, but it was Jordan who voiced their thought. “I thought Tyr was supposed to kill you.”