“The hell with the wolf. Tell me where you are.” The command in Logan’s voice was strong, overwhelming.
“Tell Fenris I’m glad he’s free. One of us should be.” The bitterness in Sleipnir’s voice died away. “You have to stop him, Pappa.” Logan whimpered in pain as his son called him Father for the first time. “Odin will kill all of you to get what he wants.”
“We know.” Skye leaned forward, trusting Morgan to keep her from falling. She had to get through to Sleipnir, had to get him to come to them before it was too late. “You need to come home.”
Was that a sob? She wasn’t certain. “I…” The hesitant way he answered made it clear he was torn.
“Come home, Sleipnir.” Kir spoke up this time, placing his hand on Logan’s shoulder as the Trickster God buried his face in Jordan’s shoulder and sobbed. “We want you here, I swear.”
“Come home, Sleipnir.” Jamie held Fenris’s hand tightly. “Fen needs his brother.”
“Kommer hjem, min bror.” Fenris’s low growl reverberated through the room. “Come home where you belong.”
“I…I’ll think about it.” There was a rustling sound. “I have to go. If he catches me like this he’ll kill me.”
“I love you. I always have.” Logan sounded heartbroken as he stroked the phone, his only connection to his son.
“I’m not sure I believe that.” Sleipnir laughed softly even as Logan hid his face again. “But I’ll try to. Now, I have to go. Keep Skuld safe, okay?”
“Stay safe yourself, and know you’ll always be welcome here.” Kir stroked Logan’s hair.
“I’ll remember.” A soft click, and the unexpected caller was gone, leaving behind more questions than answers.
Fenris sighed. “I didn’t know Sleipnir could become human.”
“I should have. How could I not have known?” Logan was devastated, leaning into his lovers hard as he broke down.
“We’re going to save Sleipnir, Logan.” Kir stroked the tears from Logan’s face. “We will. I swear it.”
Kir was clutching Gungnir as he said it, the oath now binding the king of the gods.
Logan shuddered, but he nodded and relaxed against Jordan as Kir settled down behind him.
“Okay, hothead.” Logan didn’t even twitch at the nickname Travis called him. It must be a common thing between them, something Logan was used to hearing. “Think. Where does Odin stable Sleipnir?”
“Valhalla, lefty. Where else?”
Travis grunted. “That might be a little difficult to get to.”
“Just a little bit.” Logan rolled his eyes at Travis. “Jamie’s the smart one in your relationship, isn’t she?”
Travis flipped him the bird. “Yeah, sure. I’m the pretty one.”
Jamie nodded wisely. “You are.”
Travis shook his head at his fiancée, but Skye could see the heat in his cheeks. He was far more pleased with the compliment than he was willing to admit.
Skye had been right all along. These people were nuts, but not in a bad way at all. “The prophecy says nothing about Sleipnir one way or the other.” She yawned. God, it had been a long fucking day.
Morgan forced her head back down on his shoulder. “Go to sleep, Skye. We’ve got this.”
“Bossy.” He was. And he smelled incredible. He hadn’t splashed himself with cologne like some of the men she’d dated had. All she could smell was warm man, and whatever deodorant he used. Good scents.
Right ones.
“Yup. You’ve had a long day, sweetheart. Rest.” She could have sworn she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head. “You deserve it, and you’re safe here.”
Safe. She glanced at Val, saw him wink at her, and knew Morgan told the truth. Whatever else was going on in her life, while she was here, with these people, she was as safe as she could possibly be.
She yawned again. You’d think she’d be raring to go after all of the revelations, but she was exhausted, physically and mentally. “I should leave, go back to my place.”
“No!”
Skye jumped. Wow. When they all yelled at once, the condo’s windows shook. “Okay. Sit, Skye. Stay.”
Kir chuckled. “Woof.”
Even Logan, heartbroken though he seemed, laughed at that.
Chapter Six
“Stable him.” Grimm handed the reins to his groom, studying his loyal steed with suspicion. The horse had been acting strange ever since they left the Bifrost Bridge. No, before then. When he’d returned from his meeting with the Norns, Sleipnir had been shying away from him, only standing still when Grimm barked out his name. Rina had noticed as well, and stood off to the side, glaring at the white horse. She’d been whispering in Grimm’s ear the entire ride home about the warning of the Norns.
Something had spooked the horse, something that frightened him almost as much as Grimm did.
Either that, or the Norns had told him the truth. Somehow, Sleipnir would betray him, and that was something Grimm would not tolerate.
Still, Sleipnir had been useful in the past. He was still faster than almost anything the mortals had come up with, and he could bridge the gap between the worlds without the flash-bang tactics that had taken down Logan’s wards around the condominium complex he currently lived in. Even better, none could sense Sleipnir’s passage except for Heimdall, but that was the man’s job. If Grimm could get his hands back on Idunn’s apples, Sleipnir would once again be his. He’d use the magic apples to influence the beast, making him pliant to Grimm’s commands.
To kill, or to wait? That was, indeed, the question. He eyed Sleipnir and noted how the horse’s trembling had increased.
Would he need the horse any time soon?
“Wait.” He took the reins back and took a step closer to the pale horse, watching Sleipnir’s every move for signs that something more than exhaustion was going on with the horse. He had run him hard, after all, refusing him sleep until they’d returned home.
Sleipnir froze, only his tail swishing. His dark eyes rolled, but he stood stock-still, held tightly in Grimm’s grasp.
“Sir?”
“Yes?” he answered the groom, but kept his eye on Sleipnir.
“Are you angry? Sleipnir’s reacting as if he senses that you’re upset.”
Could that be it? Sleipnir hadn’t tried to rear, but the horse had always been intelligent. The one time he’d done so, Grimm had beaten him bloody for being defiant. The young horse had naturally reacted with fear, desperately trying to get away, but Grimm had kept him chained and helpless for hours, wielding the crop with a ruthlessness that had lost him a favored groom when the man had tried to step between him and the horse. But Grimm had known Sleipnir would survive the beating.
He had his father’s ability to heal, after all, something that Grimm had utilized more than once over centuries of battle.
The beating had been lengthy and brutal, but in the end, Grimm had won. The young horse never defied him again, no matter what Grimm asked of him. He’d broken him, made him obedient in every way.
Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. “I think we’ll be cutting back on his feed for a bit.” Let Sleipnir go hungry. Grimm would feed him before the next time he needed him, and in the meantime the hunger would weaken him, keep him pliant. It was a tactic he’d used multiple times to keep the creature in line.
Of course, he’d had the apples to add to what little feed he did give the horse. Now, he’d have to rely solely on his own power to keep the creature in line. With that thought in mind, he yanked viciously on the reins, dragging Sleipnir’s head down until they were eye to eye. “Listen, and listen well. If I find out that you’ve done anything to aid your father, I will strip the hide from your bones and hang you from the Bifrost Bridge.”
Sleipnir’s eyes went so wide Grimm could see the whites.
“I know you understand me at least a little bit.” Grimm had never been certain, but he feared the horse understood him far too well. If so, he might be forced to take more drastic measu
res. For all the creature couldn’t speak, he could still find ways to ruin Grimm’s plans. All it would take was one act of free will, and all that Grimm was trying to build would come tumbling down. “Defy me, and I will kill you. I don’t need you that badly, and the pain it would cause your father would be more than sufficient payment for your loss.”
Grimm handed the reins back to the groom and took a step back. “Stable him, but keep an eye on him. Quarter rations until I say otherwise.”
“Aye, sir.”
Grimm turned his back on them and winked at Rina. “Oh, and Sleipnir?”
The horse snorted.
“I’ll be watching you.”
The caw of his ravens, Hugin and Munin, sounded from the rafters. Thought and Memory would watch Sleipnir closely. If he set a hoof out of line, Grimm would know it in a heartbeat.
“Have a good night.” He stepped out of the stable and wrapped his arm around Rina’s waist. “It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it? Loki will be dead soon, and Heimdall will be the one to do it. I’m not sure it gets any better than this.”
She snuggled close, and he could feel the hilt of her favorite dagger against his hip. As always, she was careful not to cling too closely without an invitation. “It does. Eventually you’ll kill Baldur as well.”
“I know.” Her faith in him was admirable.
She sighed deeply as she glanced back toward the stable. “As much as I hate to waste an asset, it might be better just to kill him.”
Grimm nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“If you wish, I will do it for you.” Rina stroked his chest, her fingers sliding under the buttons of his shirt. Her nails scratched lightly in a pattern she’d learned would set his body on fire. “I would destroy the world to keep you safe.”
He took a deep breath at the seriousness of her tone. Of all the people who’d been with him for all those centuries, only Rina had stood by him. Therefore, only she had earned his loyalty…and, surprisingly, his love. He snuggled her close, grinning at the thought of what he had planned for them once they were snug in their bed. “I know, my love. And when we win this war, you’ll be at my side for eternity.”
She stopped and glided in front of him, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Queen or concubine, I am yours.”
He gripped her hair and pulled back until she arched under his hand. The moan she gave him had his cock rock hard within seconds. Oh, he’d never had anyone as willing to play with him as Rina. “Yes, you are.”
He was, as always, trapped in hell with no way out. His only hope lay with the father who’d abandoned him and a brother who’d never looked at him twice. A father who would soon die. He snorted, ignoring the meager feed the groom placed in his bucket. His only hope lay in warning his father to beware of Heimdall. He’d have to trust that Skuld would warn him, keep him away from the Guardian. It had taken him weeks to get her number. The others were far too well guarded for him to find anything that he could use to contact them.
If his father died before he rescued Sleipnir…
Sleipnir eyed the ravens above him and shivered. They would sit, watching him, until Odin called them back.
I’m so screwed.
“You. What are you doing here?”
Morgan blinked in shock at the sight of Frigg standing in the doorway of Jeanne and Fred Grimm’s home. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to be in her rambling, ostentatious mansion, plotting whatever revenge she was going to take against Jeanne for taking Thor’s corpse from her.
Or maybe this was the revenge. Maybe she was in Jeanne’s home because she knew it was the best way to wait for her, like a spider sitting in someone else’s web. Frigg hadn’t even let Thor’s corpse get cold before she’d snuck into Jeanne and Fred’s house and begun removing things. He wondered if, had they not come looking for Mjolnir, she would have taken Jeanne’s underwear.
She must have come straight from the funeral with a group of people to get all this done in such a few short days. “That would be my question, Frederica.” Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t hesitate to throw her ass out if it saved Jeanne Grimm any further grief.
“This was my son’s home, and you aren’t welcome.” Her sneer was wiped away when Magnus pushed past her into the house, shoving her into the wall. “You can’t come in here!”
“Oh yes we can. Jeanne gave us permission, as did Jeff, Jamie and Jordan.” And now Morgan was glad they’d talked Jeanne into remaining behind. His stepmother did not need yet another confrontation with his grandmonster. Now they’d have even more ammunition to convince her to stay safe in the condo complex rather than return here.
Morgan entered the house behind his twin, giving Frigg his own sneer. He deliberately blocked her view of Skye, who hovered on the top step with an uncomfortable expression. “You’re the one who isn’t welcome here.”
“Frigg, where should we—oh.” Thor’s ex-wife, Sif, stepped back into Jeanne’s living room with a startled expression. She glanced between the three of them with a concerned look that marred the perfection of her face. Her golden hair was pinned up, neat and gleaming in the lamplight. She was the most beautiful goddess in the pantheon, and Thor had dropped her like a hot rock for the vivacious, loving Jeanne. “Is there a problem?”
Still, she’d never been rude to Morgan and Magnus, and for that Morgan could be polite to her. “Not if you leave, Sylvia.” The front door was still open. Mortals might hear them arguing, so he called Sif by her mortal name, Sylvia.
“Leave this to me, Sif. I’ll have these…people out of here within moments.” Frigg’s sneer was going to become permanent if she didn’t remember to use some other expression. Disdain, maybe?
“Frigg, they have the right to be here.” Sif’s soft voice was trembling. She’d had no problems screeching at Thor when they’d been married, but since the divorce she’d lost the spark that had been her true beauty. Now, with Thor’s death, she seemed lost and alone.
Sif had never been the bitch Frigg was. She’d loved his father fiercely. It hadn’t been her desire to end their marriage, but Thor had loved Jeanne desperately and had left Sif when he realized Jeanne returned his feelings. The fact that she’d born a child of Frey’s, Jordan, hadn’t deterred Fred Grimm from loving the mortal with everything in him.
“Do not interfere, Sif. This is none of your affair.” Frigg’s cold snap was going to break something. Already he could feel the temperature dropping.
Sylvia winced, her pain obvious. “Frigg—”
“Enough.”
Huh. You could speak clearly through clenched teeth. Who knew?
Frigg had become a serious bitch now that she was no longer being fed her daily apple toddies. Frigg had, under the influence of Odin’s apples, welcomed Jeanne and Jordan with open arms, adoring the tiny Jordan as her grandchild. Now off the influence of the apples and no longer under the Old Man’s control, her true colors had come out. She despised the mortal woman Thor had married, and equally loathed their children.
It was just one more blow Jeff, Jamie and Jordan had to endure from the grandparents they’d loved so much. Morgan wanted them dead just for that alone.
“It’s okay, Sylvia. We’re just here to look for something.”
Shit. Magnus had to open his big mouth, but his brother had always had a soft spot for their father’s ex-wife. His tone was always gentle when he spoke to her. Morgan wondered if his brother would ever have the chance to claim the woman he’d wanted for centuries.
Sylvia gave him a shy, sad smile, but didn’t respond, her gaze darting once more to Frederica as she awaited her orders.
It didn’t really matter. No doubt Frigg would figure it out quickly. Her eyes were already narrowed in thought as she waved Sif back into the family room.
Morgan caught a glimpse of other people moving around inside the townhouse. Fred Grey, Jordan’s father, was there, as was his sister, Freida. That Frey and Freya were inside the Grim
m house didn’t surprise him. They’d chosen to side with Frederica, no doubt due to their hatred of Logan. They should have followed Tyr when he’d thrown his allegiance to Baldur, but neither Vanir had followed their ex-leader.
He also saw Henry and Luther Grimm, the Old Man’s brothers, hefting boxes from room to room. Nadine and Sonia Grimm, Frederica’s handmaidens, were quietly talking to Sylvia. And Sydney Saeter, Logan’s ex-wife, was staring at them from the top of the steps, her perpetual look of sorrow replaced by one of surprise…and fear. Sigyn had never gotten over her love of Loki, going so far as to take his last name for her mortal name. Sif had done the same with her name, Sylvia Grimm.
If Idunn, Bragi, Njord and the others were in the house Morgan didn’t catch sight of them. He wouldn’t be surprised to find that Idunn was avoiding Frederica like the plague. As the guardian of the apples, and a Vanir, she’d be doing her best to make sure they were never again used against the Vanir. Her husband, Bragi, was more than likely by his wife’s side. The god of poetry was devoted to his spouse, despite the fact that he was Aesir and she, Vanir.
Njord had always been a bit of an outsider, but his attachment to Tyr would hopefully cause him to come down on the side of Kir.
“Sif doesn’t matter. None of them do. You and I both know what matters here, Modi.”
Yes, they did. Somewhere in this house was his father’s greatest legacy, and he had every intention of claiming it.
“It belongs to us, Frigg.” Fuck it. She insisted on calling them by their immortal names, so be it. Maybe the humans would think they were LARPing or something equally nerdy. Not that he knew any live-action role-players, but still. He’d be willing to bet the Wonder Twins did. The two tended to make friends in the oddest places.
Magnus growled, and Morgan could sense his twin’s temper rising to the surface. “Get out, Frigg.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”
Magnus grinned, and it wasn’t pretty. Frigg paled at the sight of Magnus’s anger, as well she should. Magnus had been known to destroy buildings when pissed enough.
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