Morgan's Fate

and if you were one of the privileged few who got to see the real Fred Grimm, you’d know he would have fought the Old Man to his dying breath to protect his family.”

Logan reached out and took hold of Kir’s clenched fist. “Go on, Blondie.”

Kir’s answering sigh was broken. “Logan?”

Logan nodded and stood behind Kir, clasping the slightly shorter man back to chest. “I’m here, Kir.”

Kir nodded, his blond hair tangling with Logan’s as Logan placed his chin on his shoulder. He took a deep breath and smiled. “I never thought I’d be standing here. I never thought I’d be saying good-bye like this.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat, looking away for a moment. “He was larger than life, larger than anyone I knew. He was my big brother, and I worshipped the ground he walked on before it all went to hell, before my father broke our family apart with his lies and his treachery.”

Logan’s eyes closed wearily as Kir almost broke down. His arms visibly tightened around Kir. “Finish it, Blondie, then let’s go home.”

“None of us expected this.” Kir glanced around the room, the only sound the occasional sniffle from one of the women who claimed to be Fred Grimm’s daughters. “We all knew the day would come when one of us would lose our life, but not like this. It was supposed to be a war, a glorious battle between good and evil. It wasn’t supposed to be an assassination over a prophecy none of us understand.”

Jeanne sniffled into a tissue, but Skye was mesmerized. There was something about Kiran Tate that drew her attention as no one else did, not even the man at her side. She wanted to hear what he said, wanted to bask in his smile like a child in sunlight, turning her face to the sky.

“He was not supposed to be gunned down by the man he called Father.”

Skye grimaced. Oliver Grimm was officially a missing person, and had been for months. No one knew where he was, but quite a few people believed he was dead, murdered by his family members for his fortune. But according to Kir and Logan, Oliver Grimm was alive and well, and the biggest son of a bitch to ever walk the face of the earth.

He was also the man they held responsible for Fred Grimm’s death.

Kir cleared his throat, his voice rough as he finished. “At the end, when it was too late to save him, we all knew the truth. My brother loved his family, and if he could have done anything different, I think the only thing would have been to save Jeff from the Old Man. As he lay there dying, all he could think about was saving Jamie from his father and letting his kids know how much he loved them.”

Jamie curled into Travis, hiding her face in his suit coat. Jeff was holding on to Fenris’s hand so tightly the poor man’s knuckles were white. Jordan was comforting her mother, stroking her back and speaking quietly in her ear.

Morgan and Magnus sat side by side, their heads held high, but Skye could see the tears they were fighting.

“There isn’t anything more you could ask of a man, of a father or a brother, than to know he’d been trying to right his wrongs, to make amends for the mistakes he’d made. Mistakes that weren’t even his, but the result of someone else’s greed.” Kir shook his head, his grief overwhelming his expression. “We’d been fighting for so long I’d forgotten what he was like. I’d forgotten how he would fight, always, for those he loved.”

Logan pressed a kiss to Kir’s forehead as Kir’s eyes closed once more. Jordan reached out from where she was sitting with her mother and snagged Kir’s hand, holding tightly to her lover. Kir placed his free hand on Logan’s forearm, connecting the three in a way that anyone looking at them could tell was meant to be. Skye saw it then, the way the other two held Kir, gave him the strength to continue. But it worked both ways. Kir was giving vent to all their grief in a way they couldn’t.

Kir looked up, and something in that bright blue gaze held her spellbound. “I always thought the comics and the movies got it dead wrong.”

“Comics?” Skye whispered to Morgan.

“Shh. Later.”

“Thor was no hero. He was not the god Marvel made him out to be, ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good. I always thought that, when the time came, he would fight at Odin’s side as he always had, and that I’d have to face my brother on the battlefield. I always thought he would die as he’d lived, a great warrior in service to his lord.

“But I was wrong.” Kir’s gaze raked the room, and Skye could have sworn she saw clouds scuttle across the brilliant blue of his eyes. “I was wrong. The comics, the movies? They were the ones that got it right.” He closed his eyes and slipped his sunglasses back down his nose, despite the fact that clouds seemed to have covered the sun, darkening the parlor of the funeral home. Off in the distance, thunder sounded as a single tear escaped from behind those dark glasses. “My brother was a hero, and nothing, not Grimm, not lies, not even death, can take that from him.” His voice took on an odd, echoing timber as Logan’s eyes opened. She would swear up and down that flames danced in the foxy brown of his eyes as he gazed at Logan. “Remember that. Remember the man who tossed you in the air, who defended you against the ones who should have loved you most.”

Beside her, Morgan’s breath hitched.

“Remember the man who defied his father to marry a human despite the influence of Idunn’s apples.”

Jeanne broke down and sobbed.

“Remember the man who wasn’t ashamed to ask for forgiveness.”

Jeff nodded sharply.

“There are few so deserving of Valhalla as my brother, but deep inside I hope he does not go there.”

Travis gasped, looking shocked. Morgan twitched, his brother grumbling under his breath.

“I hope with everything in me that he does not go to where my father rules the dead. I hope he does not have to look his murderer in the eye for the rest of eternity. I hope my brother goes safely into the embrace of death, that he sits at the side of my lover’s daughter. I hope that when Grimm’s Ragnarrok finally comes, my brother will be at the head of the army that will ride from Helheim and finally take him down.”

Lightning flashed, followed swiftly by thunder as Kir’s voice rang out, echoing through Skye. She had the strongest urge to bow her head to Kir, the power in his voice almost too great to withstand. She’d been drawn to him from the start, but not like this.

Skye knew if Kir asked her to join that fictional army, she’d sign up in a heartbeat. And that frightened her more than anything else that had happened during this insane week.

Chapter Three

Morgan sat at his stepsister’s dining table and stared at Skye. He burned every time he was near her. He hadn’t been able to leave her side, even at his own father’s funeral.

How fucked up was that? He bet Frederica would be cackling over her cauldron right now if she knew.

“Thinking about bedding your Fate?”

Morgan resisted the urge to punch his twin. “Shut up.” He managed to drag his eyes away from Skye long enough to shoot Magnus a dirty look. “I’m just fascinated by her face.”

“And her cleavage.”

“Ye—what were you doing looking?”

Magnus chuckled. “Why not stamp mine across her forehead?”

“Or her cleavage?” Morgan’s frown turned into a scowl as his brother laughed harder. “You are such an asshole.”

“Yeah, but I’m an asshole staring at a pair of truly magnificent—ow.” Magnus rubbed his shin and glared at Jamie, who was seated across from him. “What?”

She glared at him for a second before Travis got her attention by nodding toward Skye. “Sweetheart, I think she’s ready.”

Whatever reply Jamie gave her fiance was lost as Morgan’s attention was once more captured by Skye. The Norn cleared her throat as she rapped against her glass with her fork. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stand it anymore.