Then again, he hadn’t thought humans could conquer flight, but here he was, flying through clouds in a metal contraption not even the Dökk Alfar could have created . Fenris was fascinated and horrified at the same time, and the twins were obviously trying to distract him with fairytales.
“Okay. You want the Cliff Notes version? I can do that.” Jeff leaned back in his chair and crossed his long legs. “Logan and Kir went to my sister, Jordan, to get her to help them prove that Odin had framed Loki for the murder of Baldur, blah blah blah. They decided the best way was to boink her into submission. Ow!
Damn it, Jamie.” Jeff rubbed at his arm where his sister had hit him. “Fine,” he huffed. “They convinced her to help them. Is that better, Madame Critic?”
Jamie sniffed. “It’ll do.”
Fenris wondered how they’d lived this long without killing each other.
“They’d already figured out long ago that Idunn’s apples could be used to cloud people’s judgment, making them susceptible to suggestion. Odin, apparently, is really good at making suggestions, so hey! The rest of the hungry hungry hippos followed him merrily to Assholeville.”
The little hand gestures that accompanied that explanation were beyond cute. Fenris wanted to plant Jeff in his lap while his mate told his story just so he could kiss him every time he did something so adorable.
“Which stop is that for the Wacky Train?” Jamie giggled at her brother.
“About two past Dysfunction Junction.” Jeff laughed back at his sister, and Fenris knew why the twins hadn’t killed each other yet. They loved one another the way Fenris loved his brother and sister, and would have loved his half brothers if he’d been given the chance.
“So Grandpa Odin, he makes with the happy juice and has everyone do things they’d never do ordinarily, except your father and apparently Uncle Val were immune somehow. Even Travis was affected to the point where he wasn’t really a god of justice anymore, if you know what I mean.” Jeff shook his head.
“Anyway, he made sure everyone, including Frigg, got their daily dose while he became Supreme Dickhead of all he surveyed, except Loki fucked up his ultimate plans by taking Baldur’s place and preventing his death. Your father hooked up with Baldur and the two ran for, what, centuries? They convinced Jordan to help, which dragged in Tyr, which dragged in Morgan, Magnus and Uncle Val.” Jeff’s demeanor changed, becoming hard. “Then Grimm grabbed Jamie.”
Jamie reached out for her brother, taking his hand in hers. “Grimm tortured me, knowing Logan would never allow anything to hurt Jordan. While he beat on Logan, Uncle Val got me out and to a hospital, then went back and tried to kill Grimm.”
“But the S.O.B. lived and got away. The Old Man tried to pin his own murder on Travis and Uncle Val, but the detective on the case smelled a rat.” Jeff patted Jamie’s hand. “So Grimm took Jamie again, only this time she was able to protect herself a little better. She’d gotten your father’s ability to heal, and Travis’s ability to, um, glow.” Jeff’s brows drew together. “Yeah. Still not sure what that’s good for, other than reading at night. Grimm got away, again, and Travis volunteered to be the one to free you while Magnus and Morgan hunt down the Norns and Logan, Kir and Jordan speak to Hel.”
Fenris smiled. His father was visiting Hel? Fenris looked forward to being able to see his sister again. He wondered how she’d fared over the centuries. It had been so long since he’d seen either of his siblings he was no longer certain he’d recognize them, or they, him. They, at least, had been able to move freely within their prisons. Fen had been forced to hobble.
“Grimm’s access to the apples has been cut off, but I’m pretty sure Frigg is using them to control other people now.” Jeff winced. “Human-type people.”
Fenris focused on the one thing that really mattered. “Vali is your ally?”
Jeff snorted. “Vali is my uncle.”
Fenris eyed the plane’s airlock. How much would it hurt if he jumped out of the plane? Vali was supposed to kill him during Ragnarrok. How could Jeff be allies with Fenris’s eventual murderer?
“I think that’s it, right?”
Jamie nodded. “Pretty much. Nik appeared and saved Travis and Uncle Val from jail and took a liking to the detective working the murder case.”
“Nik?” Fenris wasn’t sure he wanted to hear much more. His head was beginning to hurt as it was.
“Sorry. You’d know him as Heimdall.”
Fen nearly swallowed his tongue.
“To us, he’s Niklas DeWitt, scary-ass attorney-at-law.” Jeff patted his hand in comfort. “Don’t worry. It took me a while to get it all straight.”
Jamie nodded and began ticking names off on her fingers. “Travis is Tyr.”
“Logan is Loki.”
“Kir is Baldur.”
The twins went back and forth, naming the gods and the human names they all lived under.
“Vali is Val.”
“Magnus and Morgan are Magni and Modi, the sons of Thor and the Jotun Járnsaxa, meant to carry Mjölnir after Dad dies at Ragnarrok.” Jamie winced.
“Not something I want to think too hard about.”
“Adam Grey, Jordan’s dad, is Frey.”
“Fred Grimm, our Dad, is Thor. Our mom, Jeanne, is human.”
“And Odin is Oliver Grimm, fuckhead extraordinaire.” Jeff rubbed his forehead. “Now I’m getting a headache.” He stared at Fenris. “Up until a little while ago I knew none of this. Then my loving grandfather lost his goddamn mind and tried to kill my twin, and all of it came out. The gods, the plots and the evil. All of it. And what happened to you and your siblings isn’t the worst of it, is it?”
Fenris shook his head. “No. It was not. There are those who might say we were lucky.” He rubbed the gray material of his pants that Jamie had called
“sweats” and thought of the brothers he’d never have a chance to know. “We lived.”
Two Months Later…
Jeff stared down at the no-longer-filthy, absolutely hunkalicious man currently sleeping in his bed and frowned. He still wasn’t sure when he’d signed up to be doggy daycare, but there he was. Fenris. The ultimate pissed-off werewolf, son of Loki and the Jotun Angrboda, killer of gods and small fuzzy animals, had his hand curled under his cheek like a child. His long, dark hair was freshly washed, just a hint of his father’s red shining through the thick, dark locks. He had the most beautiful eyes Jeff could ever remember seeing, a true golden brown that shimmered when the light hit them just so. He had a body that had Jeff panting for a taste. He was wide-eyed with wonder one minute and severely over-protective the next, constantly placing himself between Jeff and Travis as if he thought Travis would go all rabid on Jeff’s ass at any moment.
And his laugh made Jeff smile, so full of joy it was even more beautiful than the man’s face. Watching him master the Wii and televisions and microwave ovens had been an adventure, especially when Fen forgot to take the spoon out of the soup he was reheating. He was everything Jeff had ever daydreamed about tangled up in green cotton sheets.
How the hell did someone like Fen wind up sleeping in Jeffrey Grimm’s bed?
Jeff was still having trouble processing it. He had fucking Fenris sleeping in his bed, all curled up like… Well, like a dog. He stifled a chuckle, not wanting to wake his new house pet up. He reached over and pulled up the comforter, covering the naked man’s tempting backside, front side and everything in between. He resisted the urge to run his fingers through that dark hair, knowing it would only lead to Bad Things.
His last Bad Thing had left him with a sore butt and a two-thousand-dollar casino debt in Atlantic City. He was so done with Bad Things.
Jeff backed slowly out of the bedroom and headed straight for the liquor cabinet. If this situation didn’t require a stiff one he didn’t know what did. He reached down into the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of Krogstad Aquavit, a taste he’d acquired on his twenty-first birthday when his father had taken him out and bought him his fir
st drink. He poured himself a shot of the strong, star anise-flavored liquor and threw it back. The burn as it slid down his throat was just what he needed to end a really long day.
Logan, Kir and Jordan were gone, presumably visiting Hel, and didn’t that just freak him the hell out. He smothered a chuckle at his unintentional pun, unwilling to wake Fenris. Morgan and Magnus had left before Jeff, Travis and Jamie and still hadn’t returned. They’d warned him that the trip over the Bifrost Bridge could take a while, especially since they had to hide from Grimm, but he hadn’t expected it to take almost two freakin’ months.
So here he was, with Fenris in his bed. Every night he said good-night and curled up on the sofa. And every night, Fenris picked him up, carried him to bed and curled around him as if Jeff were his favorite squeaky toy.
The situation between Fen and Travis was simple now. Fenris growled when he saw Travis. Travis kept Jamie away from Fenris. And Jeff and Jamie got to meet in the corridor outside their condos. He was coming to hate that gold-patterned carpet. At least the neighbors didn’t complain when he and Jamie set up an impromptu bowling alley at two in the morning.
Teaching Fenris was turning out to be a full-time job. At least Fenris was adapting to things like speaking and toilet paper and when not to chew on the furniture.
Okay, so they were still working on that last one, but he’d gotten a lot better about it in the last two weeks. Squirt bottles worked wonders.
He almost jumped out of his skin when the phone rang. He ran to grab it before the sound could wake up Fenris. “Hello?”
There was a pause before a hesitant voice replied. “Jeff?”
Jeff damn near hung up the phone. “What do you want?”
“Is that any way to speak to your father?”
“Am I speaking to Fred Grimm or Thor?”
Fred Grimm sighed. “Jeff.”
Only his father could make him feel guilty even when he knew he was right, and that pissed him off. “Beat anyone up lately?”
“Stop it. I want to talk to you.”
“Oh. Is that all?”
“Don’t you hang up the phone, young man!”
“Why should I listen to you? Do you know what’s been happening to us? Do you even care?” Jeff was hissing into the phone, too angry not to show it but unwilling to wake Fen up.
“I know.”
Jeff paused. The agony in his father’s voice… “About Jamie.”
“Yes.”
“So why haven’t you visited?”
“Can I? Can I really? Or will your sister’s lovers kill me on sight?”
“We needed you, Dad. Jamie needed you.”
“If I could have I would have been there.”
“How much juice have you had recently?”
His father growled. “None since Jamie.” In the distance thunder sounded.
Kir might be the God of Spring, and thus spring storms, but Thor was the God of Thunder and therefore violent weather. Jeff bet if his father wished it there’d be a damn tsunami in the Delaware River. “Adam feels the same way. Your grandfather has a lot to answer for.”
Jeff shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. “I don’t think I can talk to you. Not yet.” Not until Jamie forgave their father.
Fred sighed, the sound weary and defeated. “Then there’s no use in calling your sisters, is there?”
“No. Not for a while.”
“I love you, son. Please, never doubt that. Maybe someday you can forgive me.”
Not yet, he couldn’t. Maybe not ever. “We’ll see.”
The phone call ended with neither of them saying good-bye.
He poured himself another shot, put the bottle away and ambled over to his huge leather sofa. He flopped down into it, the still unfamiliar scent of new leather and furniture polish making him wince. When Logan had told him he’d have his own million-dollar condo in this building right off of Rittenhouse Square, he’d been thrilled. He’d always been an uptown boy with a downtown budget, so he’d barely waved good-bye before shutting the door on his tiny studio apartment and moved into what was supposed to be paradise. He’d taken the key with the wolf’s head and hadn’t looked back.
Then he’d opened the front door.
Everything in his new condo was made of dark, sturdy, thick woods, thick leather upholstery and tile. The chocolate brown leather sofa was flanked on either side by two carved wooden chairs with leather cushions. Each chair was carved with stylized Norwegian wolf’s heads on the ends of the arms. The gray and tan slate tile floors complimented the mocha colors of the walls and the darkness of the furniture. The big flat-screen TV had two video game consoles hooked up to it with four controllers each. They rested on another hand-carved piece of furniture that reminded him of Norway. This one had boats and dragons and shit all over it.
Jeff loved his roots, but c’mon. It was a little too much Norway in his living room. He had the weirdest urge to put a horned helmet on his head, march his ass down to Jordan’s condo and threaten Logan with his spear.
With the way his luck was going Logan would take him up on it and Jordan and Kir would kill Jeff.
Still. He’d seriously consider giving his left nut for some mid-century modern.
He propped his feet up on the hand-painted chest that served as a coffee table. From behind him the sound of deep, bone-rattling snores emitted from his bedroom, proof that Mr. Perfect wasn’t quite so perfect after all. Jeff rolled his eyes and downed the second shot. “Why does this shit keep happening to me?”
He laughed wearily. “Good grief, Charlie Brown. You’re a fucking idiot.” Jeff got up and opened the chest, pulling out a blanket. There was no way he could crawl into bed with Fenris sleeping there. No fucking way. The guy could have a dream about chasing deer and wake up with a nasty Jeff taste in his mouth.
Unlike Little Red Riding Hood, there’d be no cutting him out whole from the wolf’s belly.
Jeff curled up under the blanket and shuddered. He’d have to convince Logan to get Fenris his own condo. No way was Jeff living with the beast for any longer than he absolutely had to, cuddle-worthy though he might be. Jeff closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.
Fenris was having the best dream he’d ever had in all his long centuries. In it, an absolutely gorgeous redhead came to his cave, pulled the sword from his jaws and declared himself Fen’s mate. His accent was strange, but Fen was used to adapting quickly. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that he spoke to Tyr with trust and affection. That he seemed to trust Tyr was something Fen would have to work on.
Tyr was the last man Fen would ever trust. The bastard would surely betray Fen’s mate.
But the man, the beautiful man, had smelled so damn good Fen had allowed Jeff to lead him from his prison. He still hadn’t figured out how Jeff had managed to get Gleipnir to free its enchanted hold on him, but in the end it didn’t matter. Fenris was free, and he had his mate by his side.
Except he didn’t.
Fenris opened his eyes and stared into the strange, dimly lit room. He lifted his head cautiously, sniffing for the warm, cinnamon scent of his mate. He let out a low growl when he realized he’d been in the bed alone for hours on end. Fen crawled out of the bedding and glided through the doorway. It would take him a while to remember all of the strange names for the rooms in this dwelling, but Fen knew it would be worth it. If this was how his mate wished to live, then Fen would see to it that they remained here for however long Jeff wished.
He followed the scent of his mate to the leather sofa, growling when he found the man curled up there. This wouldn’t do. Not at all. Fen’s mate belonged with Fen, not lying on cold leather under a worn blanket. Fen would pull down the sky for this man’s blanket, would kill the sun herself if he got too hot. So why did he continue to lie out here every night?
Fen bent down and smelled something familiar on his mate’s breath. It had been a long time since he’d tasted akevitt. He was delighted his mate had it hidden somewhere
in his dwelling. He’d have to tease the location out of him later.
Fen picked Jeff up and carried him into the “bedroom”, careful not to wake him. Whatever had driven him to drink, Fen would see it resolved. He’d not have his mate be disturbed like this.
Jeff twitched as Fen placed him on the bed, muttering incoherently as Fen carefully undressed him.
“Jeg er din forlovede. ”
Fen smiled at the slurred, barely audible words. “Ja. Jeg er din forlovede.” At least he acknowledges our mating when he dreams. He curled around his sleeping mate, warming him with his body heat. Jeff felt so small against him, so cold.
He’d warm his little mate, keep him safe from everything the world had thrown at him. Neither Grimm nor Frigg nor any enchanted weapon would harm a hair on his little redhead.
This man needed Fen, and Fen would do his best to provide whatever he desired for the rest of their lives.
Fen buried his nose in his mate’s hair and, with that spicy-sweet scent in his nostrils, fell back into a contented sleep.
Jeff smiled, warm and comfortable in the cocoon of his lover’s arms. Soft kisses rained down on his neck. The whiskers of his lover’s chin sending shivers down his spine as they scraped across his skin. “Mmm.”
His neck was licked. “Du kan smake godt.”
Jeff froze as he realized just who was sleeping in his bed. “What the hell does that mean?”
His neck was licked again. “Mmm. You taste good.”
He tried not to shiver, but damn. Fenris had figured out one of his hot spots without even trying. “Why am I not on the sofa?”
“You were cold.”
He glared over his shoulder at Fenris. “I’m pretty sure I had a nice, comfy blanket over me.”
Fenris shrugged. “Then I was cold.”
“You had my comforter.”
“But I did not have your comfort.”
Jeff grabbed his head. “Ow. Oh, ow.”
“What?”
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