Morgan's Fate td-4

by Dana Marie Bell

  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.”

  “Why would you think that?” Logan tugged Jordan down until she was seated next to Skye. “Tyr was never the one who was going to kill me.”

  “It’s one of the reasons we’ve never really trusted Nik.” Kir yawned and headed into the kitchen. “Anyone want pizza?”

  Logan groaned. “Blondie…”

  “C’mon.” Gods, Kir made even whining look sexy as hell. “I haven’t had pepperoni in days.”

  Jordan bit her lip and shot Logan a guilty look. “Can I get mine with extra pineapple?”

  Skye shuddered. The woman had an unhealthy obsession with the stuff. The whole condo reeked of it. She’d heard of pregnancy cravings before, but Jordan was taking it to a whole new level.

  “Fine, order away.” Logan flopped gracefully into the seat next to Jordan. He lifted her bare feet into his lap and began rubbing her arches. “What do you remember about my death?”

  She closed her eyes as Kir’s soft murmur rolled over her. “The Prose Edda says that after Fenris dies—” she ignored Logan’s pained sound, “—Loki and Heimdall will kill one another, but it doesn’t say how.” She opened them again. “Also, it’s only in the Prose Edda that it’s mentioned. It’s not mentioned at all in the Poetic Eddas.”

  “The Prose Eddas also mention who kills Fenris, and how.” Logan was growling, but his hands remained gentle on Jordan’s feet.

  “And Fenris, again, is only mentioned by name in the Prose Edda.” Skye tapped her teeth. “I’m not sure what’s right and what’s wrong anymore, not where the Eddas are concerned.”

  “Shit.” Kir joined them at the table. “We’ve been going mostly by the Poetic Eddas. The Prose just seemed like someone taking the Poetic and expanding on it.”

  “It’s possible that’s exactly what it is.” In fact, Skye was willing to bet all their lives on it. “Still, Sleipnir went to the trouble of getting away from Odin’s ravens to call and warn us.”

  “The Old Man has Hugin and Munin guarding Sleipnir?” Logan took a deep breath. “He knows.”

  “Knows what?” Jordan hissed. Logan must have hit a particularly sore spot.

  “That Sleipnir’s trying to warn us.”

  Skye couldn’t argue. She wasn’t sure, but she remembered Odin, remembered how he’d take his ravens and use them as guards and spies. It was part of his need to know everything that was going on in his world, his way of controlling those that shouldn’t have been controlled. Gods weren’t meant to mindlessly obey, not even their leader. “I’d love to know how Sleipnir got away from them then.”

  “He might not have.” Morgan grimaced as Logan shot him a dark look. “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

  Jordan sighed and pulled her feet from Logan’s hands. “Then we need to go rescue him.”

  “No!”

  Wow. The two men were loud when they yelled together.

  “You stay here.” Logan’s expression was grim.

  Kir rubbed her belly. “You have something more important to protect.”

  She glared at him before sagging in her seat. “Fine. But you had better bring me back some really good pineapple.”

  “I can’t wait until she pops that kid out,” Morgan muttered. “I’m getting so sick of pineapple. Pineapple-scented candles, pineapple-scented soap, pineapple syrup, pineapple bacon…”

  “They make pineapple bacon?” Skye shuddered and turned her attention back to the bickering gods.

  Jordan had her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at her lovers. “Only one problem. If the Prose Edda is right, we need to keep Logan away from Heimdall. Which means you stay here too, Logan.”

  “Not a chance. Blondie.” Logan was a very brave man. He ignored the storms gathering in his lover’s eyes. “He’s my son.”

  Kir stiffened. “If you go, I go.”

  Skye had to break the glare the two of them were giving each other. Rain began pouring outside the window, the flash and boom of thunder shaking the house. Baldur was getting pissed off. “Maybe neither of you should go.” She held up her hands when the two men turned to her. “Seriously. Let someone else take care of it for once. You two stay here and protect Jordan.”

  “Magnus and I can go.” Morgan’s quiet voice broke the stalemate. “You can trust us to take care of Sleipnir.”

  Logan shook his head. “I’m going.”

  “Logan.”

  “No. I left him there. Hell, I’m the one who handed him to that son of a bitch. I’m going to be the one to take him home or…”

  “Or die trying?” Jordan took Logan’s hand. “You’d leave Kir and I alone? Leave our children?”

  The flash of lightning outside the window nearly blinded her as thunder shook the building. When she could see again, Gungnir glowed brightly around Kir’s neck. “No.” That odd, echoing quality was in Kir’s voice. Baldur was roused. “No. I won’t lose you.”

  “Blondie.” Logan stood and moved around the table to cradle Kir’s face in his hands. “Help me save my son.”

  The rain eased from a downpour to a steady rain. Baldur was still upset, but the god was going back to sleep, lulled by his lover.

  “Please.”

  Kir took Logan in his arms, his head resting against Logan’s chest. “I can’t lose you.”

  “I can’t lose you, either.”

  Both their voices were trembling, the thought that Heimdall could take Logan away obviously shaking them both to the core.

  Morgan held his finger to his lips and gestured for her to get up.

  “Where are you two going?” Jordan’s voice was none too steady either as she watched her lovers break down before her. She was stroking Logan’s hair and pressing soft kisses to Kir’s head where it rested against Logan.

  She shared a quick look with Morgan. If she had her way, they were going to plot behind Logan’s back. Nothing was worth losing him. If they lost Logan, they’d lose Kir, and Grimm would win. “We’re going back to our place.”

  Morgan’s expression was extremely pleased. It didn’t occur to her until she saw that expression that she’d said our. “You three need to talk. Let us know what you decide. You know we’ll back you.”

  Logan looked at them both over Kir’s head and smiled. “Thank you.”

  Morgan led Skye out of the Tate-Saeter condo. “So much for pizza.”

  She laughed softly, but sobered quickly. “You think they’re going to go after Sleipnir?”

  Morgan shrugged. “If I know Logan? Hell yes.”

  She grunted. “It’s not safe. We can’t risk him.”

  Morgan shook his head as he let them into the condo. “He’s been protecting Kir for centuries. He doesn’t really see risk to himself anymore. As long as Jordan and Kir are safe, he wouldn’t think twice about placing himself in danger.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “No. If we lose Logan—”

  “We lose Kir.” She made her way to the kitchen table and their cold, soggy tuna melts. “Ew.”

  He laughed. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll make something else.”

  She bit her lip and shot him a sideways glance. “Can we have pizza?”

  He thr
ew a napkin at her.

  “Hold the pineapple.”

  “Brat.”

  She waited until he was in the kitchen, merrily whistling a tune. “Your brat.”

  “He called Skuld.”

  Grimm stared at Rina, his expression blank. Damn it, he’d hoped the stupid horse… Wait a moment. “He did what?”

  Rina nodded grimly. “He shifted into a human and called Skuld. He warned her that Logan should beware Heimdall.”

  Grimm took a deep breath at the betrayal. Not only had Sleipnir warned Grimm’s enemy, he’d hidden the fact that he was a shape shifter, the same as his brothers and sister. After everything Grimm had put him through, he would have thought the horse would change, try to escape long before now.

  Instead, he’d spied on Grimm from day one, keeping the biggest secret of them all.

  “Let me kill him.”

  He held up his hand. “Wait.” He summoned Hugin, leaving Munin to watch Sleipnir. Hugin landed on the table, turning immediately to stone. Grimm caressed the head of the statue, allowing the scene to play out in his mind.

  “He’s going to kill my father. Warn him. Watch. Keep away from the Guardian.”

  “Logan won’t let this go.”

  Grimm let the head of the raven free, sending it back to the barn and its brother. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s visited Hel in her domain and freed Fenris. It’s safe to assume he’s looking for Jörmungandr as we speak.”

  He settled his hip against the table. “He’s freeing his children.”

  “And now that he knows Sleipnir is more than a dumb animal he’ll be coming for him.”

  Grimm smiled. “And he’ll have to cross the Bifrost Bridge to do so.”

  Rina’s answering smile was full of anticipation. “Can I watch?”

  He chuckled. “I see no reason why not. I’ll want a full report on Loki’s demise. Understood?”

  “Understood.” She turned to go, but paused in the doorway. “And if Heimdall does not attack Loki?”

  He blew her a kiss. “Ensure that doesn’t happen.”

  She dipped her head, bowing to him before leaving Valhalla.

  While Rina dealt with Loki, Grimm would deal with Sleipnir. The horse would pay for warning Grimm’s enemies.

  Chapter Ten

  “We have to be the ones to save Sleipnir.”

  Morgan glanced over at the woman he’d dragged into his condo two weeks ago.

  Okay, maybe dragged was too big an exaggeration. She’d been sleeping peacefully when he placed her in his bed, settled her among his sheets.

  His home, his bed. He shivered hard, the thought racing through him that, for once in his long life, he didn’t have to share everything with Magnus. This home and Skye were his and his alone, and he’d been giddy about that ever since he first placed her on his sheets. Hell, when she’d woken up that first morning the faint scent of his skin had clung to her, driving him mad with need. He laughed, thinking on that first morning together. He looked over at her pacing in front of the windows and grinned.

  “What?”

  He chuckled again. “Coffee?”

  She grunted, and he laughed harder, but he got up and got her the damn coffee. He’d learned his lesson their first morning together. She’d woken with a lazy murmur, opened those pale, arresting eyes, and he’d smiled at the sight. She was so precious, like a sleepy kitten, all warm and fuzzy. He couldn’t help it. He’d kissed the tip of her nose.

  How was he supposed know that simply saying, “Good morning, sweetheart,” would make her screech like a Valkyrie with her fingers caught in a meat grinder? Hell, two weeks later his ears were still ringing. She’d bolted out of bed and run for the front door, all the while yelling about axe murderers. Apparently, Norns were subject to some interesting dreams.

  At least she’d still been in the clothes she’d worn the night before.

  It had taken him a full fifteen minutes to calm her down, but only the scent of freshly brewed coffee had tempted her to stop. She’d stood outside Logan’s door, sniffing like the kitten he’d named her and literally mewling. He’d raced back into his condo, quickly brewed her a cup of coffee and lured her to his side with it.

  Then he’d dragged her back inside and explained that she now lived with him in this condo while she soaked in caffeine and slowly came awake.

  Then she’d blinked at him sleepily and asked about the kitchen table. She’d wanted to know if they should trade with Magnus, since he was still bitching about asses and Cheerios every time he sat down to breakfast with them.

  Morgan wanted to spread her out and make her his breakfast.

  He shifted in his seat, suddenly rock hard. They needed to do that, to christen every room in the condo, make it theirs.

  “Morgan?”

  “Hmm?” He blinked up at her, smiling when he realized she was standing over him. Her mug was on the coffee table, and her arms were crossed over that magnificent chest. Her blue eyes blazed with irritation. Apparently she’d called his name more than once.

  “We can’t let Logan go after Sleipnir. It’s just too damn dangerous.”

  “Mm-hmm.” She squeaked adorably when he tugged, stumbling into his lap and automatically wrapping her arms around his neck to steady herself.

  “I also think if we take Magnus to get Sleipnir it will take his mind off of Mjolnir.”

  He stroked her hip, his mind half on what she was saying and half on what he wanted to do to her. She was settling herself more comfortably in his lap, even if her concerned tone hadn’t changed. She was just as worried about Magnus as he was, and that made her even more desirable in his eyes. “I agree. I just wish I knew what the Old Man is up to.”

  “That worries me. Ragnarrok is coming, yet Odin sits on his throne in Valhalla and does nothing? I don’t think so. There’s a reason he left Hugin and Munin to guard Sleipnir. He’s up to something, but what?”

  He frowned. “Wasn’t there something in the prophecy about him consulting with Mimir’s head? Could he be doing that?”

  Skye allowed her power to seep over her.

  “Now Garm howls loud

  before Gnipahellir,

  The fetters will burst,

  and the wolf run free;

  Much do I know,

  and more can see

  Of the fate of the gods,

  the mighty in fight.

  Brothers shall fight

  and fell each other,

  And sisters’ sons

  shall kinship stain;

  Hard is it on earth,

  with mighty whoredom;

  Axe-time, sword-time,

  shields are sundered,

  Wind-time, wolf-time,

  ere the world falls;

  Nor ever shall men

  each other spare.

  Fast move the sons

  of Mim, and fate

  Is heard in the note

  of the Gjallarhorn;

  Loud blows Heimdall,

  the horn is aloft,

  In fear quake all

  who on Hel-roads are.

  Yggdrasil shakes,

  and shiver on high

  The ancient limbs,

  and the giant is loose;

  To the head of Mim

  does Othin give heed,

  But the kinsman of Surt

  shall slay him soon.

  How fare the gods?

  how fare the elves?

  All Jotunheim groans,

  the gods are at council;

  Loud roar the dwarfs

  by the doors of stone,

  The masters of the rocks:

  would you know yet more?”

  “So he could be at the Well.”

  “It’s possible.”

  Morgan settled her a little bit more comfortably on his lap as she shuddered. “If Odin isn’t in Valhalla, it might be our best chance to get to Sleipnir, but we have no way of knowing if he’s there now or not.”

  “There will
be a fight if you go after him.”

  “Maybe.” He stared into her eyes. “After everything Logan and Kir have done for us, we owe this to them.”

  Skye studied his expression for a few moments before a relieved smile crossed her face. “I agree.”

  “But if we tell them what we’re doing…”

  She nodded. “They’ll try and come with us.”

  “It all depends on whether or not Odin is home.”

  “And how sneaky the three of us can be.”

  His brows rose. “You’ll be staying here.”

  She patted his chest. “You keep thinking that.”

  He stood up, ignoring her squawk of surprise. There was no way in hell he was bringing her anywhere near where Grimm might be. He’d seen what his grandfather was capable of. The thought of Grimm getting his hands on Skye made him want to smash something. Preferably Grimm’s face. “Oh, no. You are not going with us. If Grimm gets to you, it’s all over.” In more ways than one. He hadn’t taken his time, making sure Skye felt safe with him, just to have the Old Man fuck things up.

  “I don’t remember the original prophecy, or what I changed. It’s possible he’s not after me.” She frowned as he carried her into the bedroom. “Morgan…”

  “He doesn’t know that. Even if he does, he’s not the type to take chances. Think of how long he’s been trying to kill Logan and Kir.” He set her on the bed and set his hands on either side of her head. “He’s tried using Jamie as a lure, nearly skinned Jeff alive, and had Uncle Val shoot Jordan. He even tried killing his own son and placing the blame on others. He’s a vicious bastard who won’t stop and think, ‘Hmm, maybe she doesn’t know anything. Aw shucks, I’m feeling all happy and sparkly today. I think I’ll let this one live.’”

  She rolled her eyes at his poor Barney the Dinosaur imitation. “Then how do we know that Sleipnir isn’t a lure too?”

  He didn’t want to think that. It would break Logan’s heart if his son was still firmly on Grimm’s side. “It’s a chance we have to take, because if we’re wrong, Sleipnir could die.”

  She sighed deeply. “That’s what I was thinking.” She put her finger over his lips. “I need to go with you. My power will be useful there.”

  He scowled. The thought of her on the same plane as Grimm was unbearable. To have her actually enter Valhalla? He didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from tearing the place down brick by golden brick. “Skye—”