Morgan's Fate (4 page)

Next to Jordan and Logan stood Kir, his pale good looks eclipsing almost everyone in the room, including the women. He was one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen, and utterly devoted to his lovers. The pendant at his neck caught the light just right, gleaming in the otherwise dim room. “Jeanne is right, whether you choose to believe it or not.”

Flanking Kir were the two men she’d seen at the Tate-Saeters’, two men with bright red hair that matched the dead man’s and dazzling blue eyes darker than her own, sapphire to her sky. They were so close in looks it was obvious they were twins, with matching chiseled jaws and wide shoulders. They too wore dark suits, and their arms were crossed over their chests. But where one twin stared at the screeching harpy and glowered, the other stared at Skye with a hungry expression that made her want to squirm in her seat, and not in a bad way.

Superimposed over the vision of the men in suits were the two men dressed as, of all things, fierce Viking warriors. But it was still the one twin who snared her gaze.

Why did she remember him? Worse, why did she remember
wanting
him?

There was something about Morgan Grimm that called to her, more so than his twin, Magnus, despite how similar they appeared. It was as if she’d craved him forever. She wanted to get up out of her chair and cross over to him, hold his hand and stand next to him. Just to support him through this tough time, of course.

She sighed. That was a lie. She was supposed to be
with
him. The certainty that he would eventually belong to her rang through her, settling into her bones and becoming simply a part of her like her hair color or her unholy love affair with nachos.

Yup. The crazy was definitely catching. Time to get the hell out of Dodge. The last thing she needed was to start something with one of the people who surrounded Kiran Tate-Saeter.

No matter how right Morgan Grimm felt to her senses.

The family relationships between these people were confusing as hell. Jordan was married in spirit to both Kiran Tate and Logan Saeter, but legally only to Logan. The three had taken each other’s last names, so they were the Tate-Saeters. Kiran was the uncle of Morgan, Magnus, Jamie and Jeff, making Jordan the aunt of her half brother and sister and her two stepbrothers. Jeff was the partner of Fenris, who was
not
the cousin of Logan Saeter no matter what they’d originally told her. That made Logan both Jeff’s uncle through marriage, and his father-in-law. Making Aunt Jordan her nephew/brother’s mother-in-law.

The song “I’m My Own Grandpa” started playing in her head.
Thank you, Ray Stevens, for providing the perfect musical accompaniment to my crazy thoughts.

At least Jamie hadn’t married someone related to her siblings. That would have made it even more complex. Trying to keep everything and everyone straight was giving Skye a severe headache.

She glanced away, back toward Jeanne and the lady who claimed to be Fred Grimm’s mother, but she could feel
his
gaze boring into her, demanding she turn her attention back to him.

She ignored him as best she could, but she could feel the heat climbing her cheeks. His regard was intense.

“He should never have married you. You were beneath him.”

Jeanne’s brows rose as Frederica Grimm sneered, but Skye could tell she’d had enough. Jeanne’s hands were clenched, the knuckles white. Mrs. Grimm had been screaming at Jeanne nonstop since she’d arrived twenty minutes ago, and she was about to get her ass beat if Skye was any judge. “And above him, and bent over in front of him, and—” The sound of gagging cut her off. “Oh please, Jeff. How do you think you got here?”

“Mom!”

Skye almost laughed at the little-boy whine in Jeffrey Grimm’s voice. The ookie face he made was absolutely adorable, and from the look on his boyfriend’s face she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“You allowed the abomination to come to my son’s funeral.” Steam was practically pouring out of the crazy lady’s ears as she glared at Fenris Saeter.

Jeanne snarled at Mrs. Grimm. “He’s my son-in-law, and can go wherever the hell I do.”

Mrs. Grimm laughed. “Then he can follow you there.” She raised her hand, prepared to strike Jeanne Grimm down. Skye stood, feeling that somehow, some way, that blow would be lethal if it landed. She had to protect Jeanne Grimm from the crazy lady before— Lightning flashed, so sudden and so brilliant Skye had to hide her eyes. Thunder crashed, shaking the room. “
Enough!
” Kir strode forward, dark glasses perched on his nose. Skye frowned, confused. Those hadn’t been there before. His hand was clasped tightly around his pendant, yet somehow she could still see the glow of it through his fingers. “Enough, Frigg.”

Frigg. Skye frowned at Kir, wondering why that name slithered through her, a cold touch that left her shivering. A vision of Frederica Grimm with long blonde hair, dressed in a flowing red gown and wearing a gold and silver torque superimposed itself over the actual woman. Frigg nodded to her once, smirking, before turning to Kir.

What the hell was
that
all about?
The last thing she wanted was the attention of more crazy.

“It will never be enough. Not while my beloved son Baldur consorts with monsters.”

Baldur? That name… Why did that name make her want to bow her head in respect? None of this made sense, damn it!

The hairs on Skye’s arms stood straight up as Kir took another step toward Frigg. “Logan is no monster. You are.”

“No, Blondie. Not here, not now.” Logan took hold of Kir’s arm.

“Sit, Kir. Stay.” Jordan’s voice was shaking, but she too took hold of Kir, reaching for his other arm and clasping it tightly.

For just a second it seemed that Kir would attack the woman he’d called Frigg, but after a moment his head bowed. He stepped back into the embrace of his lovers and everyone except Frigg seemed to relax. The hairs that had been standing up on Skye’s arms settled back down.

Whatever Kir had been planning to do had been averted. For now, anyway.

“Here.”

Skye looked up to find Morgan Grimm holding out his hand to her.

“Come with me.”

“Yes. Get her out of here. She doesn’t belong either.” Frigg waved her hand dismissively. “None of you do.”

Skye was really beginning to dislike the woman who claimed to be Fred Grimm’s mother. She opened her mouth to give her a piece of her mind when something odd happened. She saw the woman bent with grief, sobbing her heart out while at her feet lay— “
Then is fulfilled Hlín’s

second sorrow,
when Óðinn goes
to fight with the wolf,
and Beli’s slayer,
bright, against Surtr.

Then shall Frigg’s
sweet friend fall.”

Frigg stepped back as Skye’s voice rang out, her eyes wide with horror.

Skye had no idea what was going on, or why she’d said something so weird, but she took Morgan’s outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her away from the madness surrounding the casket of Fred Grimm.

“Nice one.”

“I have no idea why I said that.” Or why she felt so comfortable with the hot man leading her to the front door and possible freedom.

“I do, and I’ll protect you as best I can.”

She blinked. “Um. Yeah. I have enough protectors.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. She just knew the Terminator was watching them. She could feel those eyes of his boring into them, keeping an eye on all of them.

But the Terminator had turned out to be a cuddly teddy bear in disguise. It looked like it was the women of this wacko family you had to watch out for.

“Ah. Uncle Val is watching out for you.”

“
Uncle
Val?” Damn. This family must have a direct line to the fountain of youth.

Morgan shrugged. “It’s a long story.”

“I keep hearing that, but no one’s willing to read it to me.”

That startled a quickly muffled laugh out of him. Morgan sat next to her, keeping hold of her hand when she tried to pull away. He absently stroked her knuckles, his gaze holding hers despite herself. “I give you my word, after the funeral we’ll help you make sense of it all.”

The shrieking harpy sailed out the door, but not without one final death glare at Morgan Grimm and the rest of her family. “I
will
find a way to free Baldur from you, Loki.”

Morgan stood, blocking Skye’s view of Mrs. Grimm. “In your dreams, Grandmother. Kir and Logan have the support of the sons of Thor.”

Grandmother? Sons of Thor? Was this some sort of secret cult thingy, and “grandmother” was a title? That might actually make a weird sort of sense. It certainly made more sense than these young men being the children of a man who appeared to be the same age they were.

“Your father would be ashamed of you, but what can I expect from the children of a Jotun?” Mrs. Grimm sneered.

“My father loved me. Can you say the same, Grandmother?” Morgan didn’t sound fazed by the vicious jab.

Man, she was getting a headache from all of this. She rubbed at her forehead wearily. She needed a nap after this. Or a shot or two of tequila. Whichever she could get her hands on first.

“At least you and your twin aren’t part human.” And with that last jab she was gone, trailed by Chanel No. 5 and half the room, not all of who looked happy about leaving. One blonde in particular was sobbing as she reluctantly left, her gaze straying one final time to the casket.

Human. Right. Skye began looking around for the white rabbit, because hell if she hadn’t fallen down its hole into Wonderland. “I
so
need a drink.”

She thought she’d said it quietly enough, but Jeff Grimm and Fenris Saeter both turned and stared at her with amused expressions before talking quietly with Jordan. The woman was standing by the casket, her shoulders slumped as she sobbed on Kir’s shoulder. Logan was rubbing her arms, obviously trying to keep her calm.

Off to their side, Travis Yardley-Rudiger was holding his fiancée, Jamie Grimm, while she quietly cried. Jamie sniffled and wiped away a tear. “I can’t believe them. How could they do this to Dad? They want to confront us, fine, but do it
after
the funeral, damn it.”

“Shh. Forgive it, but don’t forget it, sweetheart.” Travis pulled Jamie away from the casket, making room for Magnus to step forward and pay his respects.

“Let them go, Jamie. They aren’t worthy of our anger, or our father.” Morgan retook his seat next to her and picked up her hand again. “Your name is Skylar, right?”

She nodded. “They told you about me?”

For just a second his expression turned wary. “A little bit.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Morgan should be up at the front of the room with the rest of the immediate family, all of who looked far too old to be Mr. Grimm’s children. “But shouldn’t you be up there?” Not back with her, stopping her from leaving?

Morgan tugged her to her feet, tucking her hand through his arm. “Thank you, and you’re right. I should be.” She followed him to the casket, unwilling to make a scene. No matter what she thought of all this madness, a man was dead. A man these people obviously loved.

Morgan placed his free hand on his brother’s shoulder. His voice, when he spoke, was filled with a mixture of rage and grief that sent shivers of apprehension down her spine. “We will avenge him, Magnus.”

“I know.”

Morgan squeezed Magnus’s shoulder before tugging her forward. “Skylar Kincade, meet my twin brother, Magnus Grimm. Magnus, this is Skye.”

The brothers exchanged an unreadable glance, then Magnus held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Skye.”

“And you. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Magnus nodded his head, grief tightening his features. “Thank you.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and she tensed. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she preferred Morgan’s touch to Magnus’s.

Magnus smiled briefly and pulled her away from the casket. He bent and whispered in her ear. “Would you be willing to sit with Morgan? I have some family business to deal with before I can join him.”

“Uh…” All she’d wanted to do was go, but it seemed the Grimm family was determined to keep her around. She sighed, defeated. How was she supposed to say no to a man who was mourning his father? “Sure.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. Dad’s death has hit him pretty hard, even if he’s not showing it. Morgan’s all tough on the outside but a marshmallow on the inside.”

“Like Uncle Val.”

Magnus blinked, his gaze darting over to the intimidating man standing next to Jamie and Travis. Okay, so marshmallow might not be the first thing that sprang to mind when you met Val’s cold gaze. “Yeah. Just like Uncle Val.” He smiled weakly and walked her back to Morgan. “Keep an eye on her, brother.”

“Will do.” Morgan placed her hand through his arm.

“Why do you need to keep an eye on me?” Skye was becoming frightened. She was terrified they weren’t ever going to let her out of their sight. If this was a kidnapping, it was the weirdest one she’d ever heard of. Who carted the victim off to a funeral?

“I promised I’d answer your questions after the funeral, Skye. I’ll hold to that promise, but for now, all I’ll say is we believe you may be in danger.” Morgan pointed to his father’s casket. “Danger that could wind up with you in the same position as my father. I know you don’t believe me, but we’re trying to protect you.”

She stared at Fred Grimm and swallowed hard. “No one wants to hurt me.”

“You’re wrong, but that’s part of what we need to explain to you.” He sighed. “I wish my brother and sisters had explained all of this to you while Magnus and I were gone, but…”

“They were grieving.” But even with all of that, one of the odd family was constantly nearby, keeping an eye on her. She’d even overheard some of them declaring that she should be moved to “their” floor. If so, she wanted her old condo back. She still didn’t believe Logan when he said that Jeff and Fenris had been living there for some time. That had been her condo, dammit. She just couldn’t prove it. Even the mark she’d left in the doorjamb was gone, erased as if it had never been there.