There was the twin sounds of flesh on flesh and two masculine voices saying “Ow.” Jordan must have smacked her brothers. “You two should go to Dad’s to look for
“No.” Morgan’s instant disagreement was firm. “I won’t leave Skye unprotected.”
The warm fuzzies that filled her at the sound of his determination scared her almost as much as the fact that they were discussing mythology like it was the real deal.
“You seriously think Kir and Logan couldn’t keep her safe?”
The silence that answered was thick with tension. “I know they can, but…” Morgan’s sigh could be heard through the door. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to be close to her. Now that she’s here, I don’t want her out of my sight. Not even for a moment. The danger she’s in just makes the need to keep her near worse.”
They kept saying that she was in danger, but so far Skye hadn’t seen a hint of it.
“Okay, Morgan.” Magnus was taking his brother’s side. “Then we wait and see if Kir can’t unlock some of Skye’s memories. Maybe if she remembers who she is we’ll finally get some answers about the prophecy.”
What prophecy? Skye shivered again, frightened beyond anything since she’d watched her parents take off in their car for a day trip to the shore. That sixth sense that gave her visions told her exactly what they were speaking about.
They were speaking about Ragnarrok. The end of the world. Suddenly, the danger they were discussing made a macabre sort of sense. If the Old Man she’d seen killing that family thought she could somehow answer the questions of the Tates and Grimms, he’d stop at nothing to kill her.
Skye huddled under her blanket and prayed to whatever god was listening that she was wrong. Because if she wasn’t, things were far more fucked up than she’d ever thought possible.
“I heard you guys last night.”
Morgan, Magnus and Jordan winced. Perhaps she could have been more diplomatic, but damn it, she was tired of being treated like a mushroom. She was stepping out of the dark and demanding they stop feeding her bullshit. “You keep telling me it will all make sense, that you’ll explain everything.” She pinned Morgan down with a glare when he started toward her. “So. Explain. Why is the Old Man coming for me, and why won’t you let me go home?”
Kir and Logan exchanged a grim look before Kir smiled at Skye. “I think we need to sit and talk privately. It will be less confusing than if we try and have everyone explaining everything at once.”
“He’s right. And he’s probably the best one to explain all of this. There were things Magnus and I didn’t see, things only Logan and Kir know that might help with all of this.” Morgan’s expression was full of concern, and something else. Something that sent a wave of heat through her. It wasn’t the first time a man had wanted her, but it felt like no other had ever wanted her quite so badly. “Go with Kir. He’ll answer everything for you.”
“But—”
He placed his finger on her lips, silencing her. “No buts.”
“Not yet, anyway.”
She heard someone smack whoever had spoken, but at this point she didn’t care who it was. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Morgan Grimm. He was giving her a faint, sardonic smile, one that said he knew full well how everything seemed but was going to drag her further into it anyway. “Trust me.”
She blew her bangs out of her eyes. Damn it, she
“You do. You just don’t remember it.”
She tilted her head and frowned. “I’m pretty sure I would have remembered meeting you.” As hot as he was, she would have more than remembered. She would have had wicked, dirty fantasies for months.
His smile turned sultry, as if he knew exactly what was going through her mind. “Go with Kir. We’ll discuss how memorable I am later.” He helped her to her feet, frowning at her hands and grimacing. She hadn’t realized how badly she was shaking until he brought her attention to them. “It’s all right, Skye. You don’t need to be afraid. No one here will ever harm a hair on your head.”
She looked down, trying to regain control. It was as if she were on the brink of something momentous, but she couldn’t stop. Like being at the top of the roller coaster and just waiting for that long, sharp drop into oblivion. “Everything’s been so strange. First I have one of my visions, one of a man killing an innocent family. Next thing I know, I’ve got tons of new babysitters and I’m not allowed to go to work anymore.”
Morgan held up his hand toward the people at the table. “The same thing happened to Jordan unexpectedly. She didn’t take it all that well, but she understood the need to be safe. You know now what we are,
She rolled her eyes. “I know exactly who I am. I’m Skylar Kincade.” But…not. She blinked as a vision flashed before her eyes.
She stood at Morgan’s side, watching as her lover hurled a war hammer toward an enemy who dodged out of the way. She called a warning to his brother, Magnus, who caught the hammer and threw it again, playing a deadly game of catch that could only end in bloodshed.
“That’s only one of your names.” She blinked as the vision faded, focusing once more on the here and now. “Do you remember anything about your life before you came to live here?”
“Yeah, sure. I was an only child, my parents raised me until I was sixteen. They died in a car accident, and I went to live with an aunt.”
“What were your parents’ names?”
“Elsa and Howard Kincade. My aunt’s name was Maria Bergen.”
“Elsa and Maria Bergen.” Morgan glanced over her shoulder but quickly turned his attention back to her. “Those are Norwegian names.”
She gestured toward her face. “My dad said that, with my face, they should have named me Brunhilde. Mom and Aunt Maria always chased him away when he said that.” Gods, she missed her family. Her parents had adored her, and she them. She’d never once doubted that she was loved by them, despite Aunt Maria’s ultimate rejection.
Behind her, someone choked, but Morgan merely smiled. True, it was a bit strained, but it was still beautiful. It lit his eyes, making them sparkle. “Does the term Jotunheim mean anything to you?”
That name jolted her. It did sound familiar. God, this was getting weirder and weirder. “You called Logan a Jotun, so I’d say it has something to do with him.”
She didn’t understand the confusion in his expression. “No. Actually, Logan comes from Muspelheim, the land of the fire Jotuns. No, the Norns of Fate hail from Jotunheim, a land of frost and rock giants.”
“Norns of Fate.” That was a name that did mean something. As a child, her mother would read the myths of her homeland as bedtime stories, but when Skye was about eight years old, her parents told her she should read to herself. She’d put the mythology aside and started reading books like C.S. Lewis’s
“Exactly like them, except you’re not a goddess. You’re a Norn.”
She sputtered out a laugh. “Whoa. Back it up there. I’m a Norn?”
He nodded.
“And you’re a god?”
He nodded again. “You’ve got it.”
“I’ve got something, all right.” She tugged on her hands but he didn’t let go. “Which Norn am I supposed to be?”
“Skuld, the Norn of the future.”
Before she could object to something so blatantly ridiculous, Kir stepped beside her and placed his fingers over her mouth. “You spouted prophecy at Frigg when she challenged your right to be at the funeral. Remember what you said?”
Skye tilted her head, and the strange urge to speak came over her once more.
“
