Two identical, angelic looks, neither of which she trusted. “Hell, no."
Logan started to laugh. “Smart girl."
Kir just shook his head. “Get some rest, and let us worry about the video, okay?” He leaned down and gave her a kiss. She tried to stop him, hissing in pain when she tried to move her bad arm. Kir stopped her, gently pressing her arm back down. “Don't do that."
Logan leaned over her, taking Kir's place. “Aren't you the one who said you don't like pain?"
She stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry at him.
He kissed her quickly, before she could pull her tongue back in.
"What is up with all of the sudden sucking of face?” She was yawning before she even completed the sentence.
Logan turned and sauntered out of the bedroom. “I'll wake you in time for dinner, sweetheart."
Sweetheart? She turned to Kir, who was smiling down at her. He was wavering in and out of focus.
“Kir?"
He brushed her hair away from her forehead. “It's simple. We've decided to keep you."
She blinked up at him sleepily. Damn, those pain pills are good. She watched him walk out of the bedroom door, gently shutting it behind him. I could have sworn he just said they're keeping me...
She drifted off to sleep before she could finish the thought.
Kir waited until he knew for certain Jordan was asleep. “Got the camera?"
"Yup.” Logan hefted the bag. They'd quietly dismantled all of the equipment, trying their best not to disturb Jordan. Kir's idea was a great one, but they had to head into Rittenhouse Square to make it work. Luckily he'd calmed down enough for the rain to stop, or they would have had to wait since the camera wasn't waterproof.
Logan set up the wards while Kir made sure everything was locked up tight. Logan had had to adjust them due to Jordan's presence, but the extra step hadn't seemed to faze him at all. “All set."
They headed for the elevator and made their way outside. They walked quickly to a secluded part of the park, shivering in the early spring air. They ducked behind the statue “Lion Crushing a Serpent,” by the
French sculptor Antoine-Louis Barye; the area was small and surrounded by bushes on three sides, perfect for what they wanted to do. At this time of night the kids who liked to climb the lion were already home, safely tucked away in bed. Logan set up the camera while Kir prepared the pot of soil he'd brought with him.
Kir took a deep, calming breath, and let it out slowly. “Ready when you are."
Logan's warm smile helped ease his jitters. Here goes nothing.
Chapter Five
"Hello?"
"He's alive, Oliver."
Grimm blinked, the blood rushing to his head as his temples throbbed. “Frederica, what are you talking about?"
"Our son, Oliver. Baldur is alive ."
He sighed, trying his best to sound weary while his mind scrambled on how she could know the truth after all this time. “Darling, you know he's not. Hermod himself confirmed it when he saw Baldur in the Underworld.” And wasn't it a relief that Hermod was as stupid as he was gullible, or he would have noticed that Baldur was breathing .
Hermod was also known to be honest to a fault. He'd seen Baldur in Hel; therefore, Baldur must be dead, reinforcing the lie he'd told.
Good old Hermod. Grimm wondered if he was enjoying the Underworld as much as Hodr was.
"Have you had your tonic today, sweetheart?"
She paused, her breathing harsh over the phone. “No."
The extra-strength potion he'd made for her to take while Baldur and Loki were so close to his home territory would take the edge off her nosiness. “Take some, before you make yourself ill over this travesty of a hoax. I'll deal with Loki myself. I promise you that."
She paused again, then meekly said, “All right."
He heard her sipping and smiled. Stupid cow. Keeping her docile had been remarkably easy once he figured out the secret of the apples. “Now, go rest, and allow me to deal with Loki's treachery."
"I've sent you the link to the video he made, Oliver.” He could hear her stifling tears. “It looks so much
like our Baldur, right down to the eyes."
Grimm's blood ran cold at the thought. “I'll take a look, my dear. Go rest."
She sniffed. “Will you be home tonight?"
He thought of Rina, and the silken present she'd promised him that night. “No, dear, I think I'd better take care of this problem as soon as possible. Don't you think?"
She sighed. “Of course."
In his most loving, caring voice, Grimm said, “Get some rest. I love you.” He practically gagged on the words.
"I love you too."
He hung up, and opened the email Frigg had sent him.
By the end of the video, his entire office was covered in frost.
Val clicked open the email link his father had sent him. Deal with this! had been the subject line. Val had no idea what had the Old Man's briefs in a bunch this time...
His jaw dropped open in shock as Baldur's face took up his screen. He clicked on the “play” button.
"Hello, Aesir and Vanir.” Baldur's beautiful voice purred in Old Norse. Those pale eyes were cold as ice. “I think you all know who I am. Or maybe not.” Baldur moved back, smiling gently as he did so. Val shivered. “After all, you've been trying to kill me for centuries now, haven't you? Quite frankly, I'm getting tired of it."
The sudden deepening of his voice had Val leaning forward in his chair. What are they up to?
"Ever since that day in the Thing, you have hunted us and hounded us. You have given us no peace. You have murdered wives and sons, turned brother against brother, and destroyed lives in your quest to destroy my lover. But enough is enough. I will tolerate no more.
"A week ago Jordan Grey was shot trying to protect Loki and me.” He leaned in close to the camera again. Val groaned when he saw that Baldur's pupils had started to turn white. That's bad. “By the way, Val, I owe you one for that.” He pulled back to the sound of a dark chuckle. Loki's there. Make that very bad. “I owe all of you, actually.” His eyes left the camera lens long enough to watch Loki walk around and take position behind Baldur. “Watch carefully, people. I'm only going to do this once.”
Baldur stared into the camera, his gentle smile never wavering, as the pot he'd been holding quivered. A sprig of green appeared, rapidly growing in Baldur's hands until a perfectly formed white lily opened its trumpet-like flower. Behind him, all of the bushes sprouted tiny flowers as well, blue with white centers, just like Baldur's eyes.
It was a miracle, since those bushes were obviously yews, and incapable of flowering. This meant that it really was Baldur standing there, and not some imposter like Grimm had been telling the gods for centuries. The magic of the Jotun, even Loki's, couldn't fake a true miracle.
"These flowers have bloomed to mark both an end and a beginning.” Baldur's blue and white gaze was
glued to the camera. Val couldn't shake the feeling that he was staring right at him. You barely noticed Loki standing behind him, somehow in shadow.
Val groaned. Baldur was glowing. It was his shadow his lover stood in.
"You all forgot something, you know. I am a God of Spring. I bring peace, hope, joy, et cetera.” He waved his hand, careful not to knock over the lily. Val could hear Loki's snort of amusement behind Baldur, noted the first hint of warmth to enter those cold eyes. “Just as you have given me no peace, now I give you no peace.” Those sky blue eyes darkened until the white pupils glared out of a circle of navy.
“No gardens shall bloom, no sun shall shine for you. Winter is in your hearts to stay until justice is served, both for the torment you've given Loki and myself and the injuries you've done to our families."
At that point, Loki leaned forward, placing one hand on Baldur's shoulder. “By the way, Frey? Thor?
Jordan's fine. We're keeping her safe.” That devil's grin that had gotten him into so much troub
le over the centuries was on his face. “And we've decided to just plain keep her."
Oh, shit. Val watched as the familiar YouTube scrolling screen appeared, asking people to rate the video. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
No wonder Grimm was ready to blow a gasket.
Frey and Thor would probably start bellowing like bulls, knowing that Jordan was in Loki's hands. It wouldn't matter to them that she was also in Baldur's hands, since they probably still believed Baldur was an imposter. He wondered how many phone calls Grimm had already gotten from them.
And he wondered how Frigg would take the news that her son was still alive.
He blinked, startled, as his hands left the keyboard. He'd just emailed the link to each and every one of the Aesir and Vanir in his address book.
Damn it, Loki! What the hell do you think you're doing?
But deep down, he knew. He just hoped Jordan didn't get any more hurt than she'd already been. If she hadn't leapt to Logan's defense, she never would have gotten hurt in the first place. He'd aimed the shot to miss by just a hair, a hair Jordan had stepped into. Damn it.
There was a gasp from outside his office. Stepping out to see what was going on, he saw plants withering and dying. And from the gasps and yelling he could hear, all of the plants in Grimm and Sons were doing the same.
The true meaning of Baldur's curse hit home.
He turned and went back into his office, trying to hide his snicker behind a cough.
Damn, bro. Way to make your point.
God of Spring, indeed.
The incessant pounding on the door had Logan groggily getting to his feet. Kir was sleeping in the bed with Jordan, making sure she didn't need anything, while Logan had stayed up all night working. He'd just fallen asleep on the sofa after a long bout of research, both on the computer and in some of the more
esoteric books he owned.
It had been two days since they'd brought Jordan home, with orders to see to it that she got physical therapy. If Logan was right, though, she wouldn't need it.
He opened the door to a small, pissed-off redhead. Her wild curls danced around her head in their own fiery halo. Her foot was tapping a staccato beat as she glared at him. “Where's Jordan?"
"Good morning to you too, Jamie.” He blinked sleepily, scratching at his naked chest as he yawned. It was too damn early in the morning for this. “Jordan's sleeping."
Her pixie eyes narrowed. “Where?"
He couldn't help it. He leered down at her. “In my bed. With Goldilocks."
She took a deep breath. “Jordan! "
He winced and fought the urge to cover his ears. She had a set of lungs on her that would make an opera singer proud. “Fuck, shut the hell up. You want to wake the whole damn floor?” He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her through, ignoring her gasp when the wards flared up around her. Something about that bothered him, but he was too damn tired to figure it out. “Jordan was shot. She's just out of the hospital and needs her rest."
She growled up at him, cute as a kitten. “Exactly. Moron. Which is why I'm here."
"What's up?” Kir stepped out of the bedroom, all rumpled and warm, his black sleep pants full of wrinkles. Logan wanted to just slurp him up, especially when he yawned and rubbed his six-pack abs.
Jamie growled again.
He pointed with his thumb at Jamie. “The Chihuahua here wants to know where Jordan is. Ow.” He leaned over and rubbed his shin, glaring at Jamie. She'd actually kicked him, and now stood there, glowering at him. “Down, tiger."
" Where is my sister? ” Jamie was actually shrieking, stamping her foot, her face turning beet red.
Kir looked at Logan and grimaced. “She's in bed, sleeping."
"Not anymore.” A sleepy, grumpy-looking Jordan stuck her head out of the doorway. “Morning, Jamie.
I see you haven't had your coffee yet."
"Jordan? You okay? Tweedledum here didn't want to let me in."
"I opened the damn door, didn't I?” He limped into the room, ignoring Kir's rolling eyes, and headed right for Jordan. He kissed her on top of her sleep-rumpled head. Her hair was sticking up, and it tickled his nose. He pouted down at her. “She kicked me."
"Poor baby.” She patted him on the head, yawning again. “Go make coffee, will you?"
"Work, work, work.” Logan paused by Kir long enough to exchange a quick kiss before he headed into the kitchen, grumbling.
"Cinderfelly, Cinderfelly, night and day it's Cinderfelly,” Jordan sang as she headed back into the bedroom, presumably to get dressed.
Logan stopped, stunned. He put his hands on his hips and turned, not surprised to see Kir collapsed against the doorframe, laughing his ass off. “Very funny, dickhead. Why don't you go deal with the evil stepsister while I put coffee on, okay?"
He caught the look of suspicion on Jamie's face as he headed into the kitchen, but at least some of the anger had left her eyes. Good. I don't want Jordan upset. And having her baby sister fussing would upset her, big time.
Calling Jamie hadn't been in their plans, but Jordan had begged and pleaded for them to call her family.
So they'd called Jeff, figuring he'd be the calmer of the twins. Poor Jeff had been stunned to hear what had happened, but he was out of town on a case and couldn't get back very quickly. He'd offered to call his brothers, Magnus and Morgan, but Kir had talked him out of it, saying Jordan wanted to talk to them herself. He just hoped little brother had listened, or he'd wind up with two pissed-off gods on his doorstep. Dealing with the twin, full-blooded sons of Thor was not on his to-do list today, thank you very much.
Apparently Jeff had opted to call little sis instead, who'd decided it was a good idea to show up at the ass-crack of dawn.
Wait. Two women, one of them pissed off, together in our condo. Neither one of whom has had caffeine.
He shuddered and did the only sane thing he could. He hid in the kitchen and made coffee.
Kir pulled away from the doorjamb and wiped the tears from his eyes. Little Jamie was still standing there, hands on hips, glaring at him like he'd run over her puppy.
"What?"
He was baffled when she shook her head at him like he was a loon. “How bad is she?” She plopped down on the white chaise, staring at him a little less angrily.
"Hurting.” He winced when she glared at him again. “We're taking care of her, I promise."
"You don't even know her. How can you take care of her?"
He glided over to her, watching her face as she slowly took in his naked chest. The look was assessing and without heat.
The little minx is sizing me up!
"How does Jordan feel about this whole ... arrangement?” She waved her hand in the air, her brows still furrowed. “I mean, she's pretty big on the whole monogamy thing."
"Tri-ogomy."
Jamie blinked. “Huh?"
Kir shrugged, and yawned again. It was too fuck-all early in the morning for her to try and get him to make sense. “Three people, all together. Not sure monogamy is the right word."
"So you two are going to sleep around on her?"
"Around her, on her, in her ... yup, that covers it.” He fell onto the sofa and put his arm over his eyes.
Damn he was tired. Despite the fact that Jordan had slept most of the night peacefully next to him, it hadn't felt quite right. He'd missed having Logan in the bed with them. That would have made it perfect.
But they'd been too afraid of jarring her healing shoulder to risk it.
"Pervert."
He sighed. “I love Jordan. I love Logan. Logan loves me. I'm working on Jordan. If that makes me a pervert, then hand me the flag and teach me the anthem."
"Kir?"
Jordan's hesitant voice had him sitting up. “Yes, baby?"
She held up one arm of the shirt she'd been trying to put on. She held her injured arm, in its sling, over her breasts. She'd managed to get the bra on, but not hooked.
He got up and, without thought, helped her finish dr
essing. “Better?"
"Mm-hmm. Thanks.” Her cheeks were flushed and she wouldn't meet his eyes. She'd been like this since the first time he'd had to help her get dressed. Having a bullet wound sucked big time. Luckily it had been on the outside of her arm, rather than further in; the bones had been nicked, but not broken.
"You're welcome.” He planted a soft kiss on those oh-so-tempting lips and left for the bedroom. If he was going to be up, he was going to take a shower. Maybe it would help wake him up.
Normally he would have dragged Logan in with him, but he didn't for two reasons. One, he was pretty sure Jamie would be weirded all the hell out. And two, they'd decided not to do anything with each other until after they'd convinced Jordan she belonged with them. Even if it led to a terminal case of blue balls.
Oh, well. Thank goodness for body wash and a firm grip. He grinned and shut the bathroom door behind him with an audible click . It didn't occur to him until he had the water nice and hot and was about to step in that her sister had been sitting right there, yet Jordan had still asked him for help.
Suddenly the day was looking a whole lot brighter.
Jordan sat on the sofa, sipping at the coffee Logan had brought out for her. It was perfect, just like everything the two men had done for her so far was perfect.
Make that almost perfect.
They had hovered over her for the last week, and for the most part, she was grateful for it, especially when she'd been stuck in the hospital for longer than they'd thought she would be. And when they'd brought her home two days ago she'd needed so much help that it hadn't even been funny. She couldn't quite dress herself, let alone feed herself. Having the two men pamper her was a heady feeling she could
quickly grow addicted to, along with the tiny little touches and kisses they peppered her with. It was like they were slowly seducing her, since none of those little kisses they constantly gave her could be called
“brotherly".
On the flip side, she could live without their bossiness. The one time yesterday she'd tried to sneak into the den to check her email, they'd freaked out and put her to bed like a recalcitrant four-year-old.
Of course, she could admit, at least to herself, that she'd acted like a recalcitrant four-year-old. She had the feeling today wasn't going to be much better.
Very Much Alive td-1 Page 7