Morgan's Fate

Could someone please explain to me what’s going on?” She stared at each of them in turn. “Fred Grimm couldn’t be your dad. He’s too damn young! And the crazy lady is a grandmother? And why can’t I go home?”

Silence greeted her shouted question, but then Kir sighed and also stood. “What do you know about Norse mythology?”

“Oh, here we go,” Jordan muttered.

“It worked on you, didn’t it?” Logan kissed her cheek as she grumbled into her Sprite.

“What bit of Norse mythology?” Skye was watching them all like she’d stepped into a loony bin and all the loonies were loose and having a tea party with the white rabbit.

“I’d start with the bit where Loki was directly responsible for the death of Baldur.” Logan winked at Kir, who smiled back.

“Plan A-1, here we go.” Jordan chugged the Sprite and ended up choking on the bubbles.

Skye inched toward Morgan, making him insanely happy. It was as if she expected he’d protect her from the insanity going on around her.

If only she knew the truth. He was just as crazy as the rest of them.

“I’ve heard of Baldur and Loki. I think I remember the myth. Hodr was tricked into killing Baldur with an arrow made of mistletoe, right? The one thing that could kill Baldur, like he had a massive allergy or something. Then Odin got it on with his mistress and created a child that killed Hodr in retaliation.” She frowned and rubbed her temples. “I don’t remember the rest.”

“The myth is a giant lie.” Kir grinned at Logan, but there was pain in his expression too. Now that Morgan knew the sacrifice Logan had made for Kir, he understood that pain all too well. “Most of it anyway.”

“Uh. Okay.” Skye scooted closer to Morgan. When she was within reach, he tugged her down beside him.

“Think about this. Baldur was invulnerable to all substances, save mistletoe, which was, at the time, too young a plant to give its word not to harm him. Loki supposedly discovered this, handed the blind god Hodr a dart or arrow tipped in mistletoe, and guided his hand. Baldur died as the mistletoe pierced his heart. Loki fled as the gods killed Hodr for Baldur’s death. Hel claimed she was willing to release Baldur back into the world if every living being cried, mourning him. But the gods found one holdout, a witch named Pokk, who was supposedly Loki in disguise. Pokk refused to weep. Hel held Baldur in her grasp and refused to let him go. When the gods realized they’d been tricked, they returned to the cave, determined to exact revenge. Pokk fled into the back of the cave, turned into a raven, and flew off into the night. Eventually the gods tracked Loki down, tied him to a mountain with the entrails of his own son, there to writhe in torment until Ragnarrok.” Kir grimaced. “The goddess Nanna, on hearing of Baldur’s death and the failure of the gods to bring him back to life, committed suicide.”

The familiar lie, spoken by the same man who was supposed to have died that day, had everyone’s attention. Even Jeff was sitting still, watching raptly as Kir spoke.

Kir fingered his necklace. Gungnir, the Godspear, was shrunk down to the pendant Kir never went without. It glowed at his touch, once more acknowledging that he, not Grimm, was now the leader of the gods. “If you’re familiar with Loki then you’re familiar with his ability to shift shape.”

“I know Loki gave birth as a horse, so yeah.” Poor Skye looked so confused.

They all ignored Logan’s pained grimace. All except Jordan, who rubbed his arm. Logan was devoted to his children. All of them, even the ones Grimm had destroyed in his effort to get to Loki. The fact that he’d been separated from them for so long pained him deeply. It was one of the reasons he was so overprotective where it came to Jordan and her pregnancy. Logan would allow no harm to come to the woman he and Kir had claimed as their own.

Morgan couldn’t be happier about it despite their rocky start. “Did you know that the only form Loki can’t shift into is a bird?”

Skye looked thoughtful. “No, I didn’t know—can’t?”

“Caught that, did you?” Jordan held out her glass for more soda, and Logan obliged. “He had to borrow Freya’s cloak to do it. So if Loki couldn’t turn into a bird without Freya’s cloak, how did he, as Pokk, turn into a raven in the back of the cavern and fly away from the gods?”

“I have no idea, but I’m certain you’re going to tell me.” Skye was looking more and more confused.

Morgan couldn’t help it. He stroked Skye’s arm, gaining her attention. “It will all make sense soon, I promise. Just…listen, and keep your mind open. All right?”

She sighed. “All right, but you understand this all sounds nuts.”

“We know, and I’m sorry about that.” He’d dearly love to find out why she didn’t seem to know any of this. Hell, she’d lived through most, if not all, of it. The myths should have started bringing back her memories, but her confusion told him otherwise.

“Skye?” Kir had taken hold of Jordan’s outstretched hand. “Whose bird is the raven?”

“The All-Father.” Skye blinked, a frown crossing her face. “You’re saying Odin framed Loki.”

“Yes. Odin is a shape shifter too, and he’s called the Father of Lies.”

Skye tilted her head, her gaze narrowing on him. “Is?”

“Is.” Kir tugged, and Gungnir came loose in his hand. “I am Baldur.” The spear grew, the tip burning brightly. Instead of the intense blue it had burned for Odin, Kir’s love for Logan and Jordan caused it to burn bright red, like flame.

“And I’m Loki.” Logan grinned cheekily at Skye and waved his hand. “Hi.”

“And I’m the Tooth Fairy.” Skye stood. “Also, I’m outie.” She started to head for the door. “Y’all are nuts.”

Kir laughed. “Maybe, but we can prove it, you know.”

Logan grimaced. “Time for Plan A-1?”

Jordan laughed, her expression fond. “No one is ever ready for Plan A-1, Logan.”

“You certainly weren’t.” Logan’s answering wink was wicked.

Skye turned and glared at Kir. “You can prove he’s a fire giant and you’re an invulnerable god?”

“Yup.”

“Just because you grab your spear and make it grow—”

“Hey, now.” Jordan stood and wagged her finger. “I like his spear.”

Logan’s grin turned wicked. “I’m rather fond of it myself.”

“Can we not discuss Kir’s spear?” Magnus shuddered. “I still have nightmares about that elevator ride.”

Kir sighed and grabbed the bridge of his nose. “Children.”

While Logan, Magnus and Jordan were playing around, Skye had backed toward the front door. Morgan jumped up and blocked her exit, holding out his hands when she tried to move past him. “Wait. Hear the rest of it.”

She glared up at him. “Let me go, Mr. Grimm.”

Ouch. She was pissed. “Please.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Fine. But only because you asked nicely.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to the table. “Even if you are…all… Holy shit.”

Morgan glanced over to the table to see what had her all pale and wide-eyed. “Oh. That. Yeah, he does that sometimes.”

“Morgan.”

“Hmm?”

“He’s made of fire.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s not screaming in agony.”

“No, of course not. Why would he?”

“He’s eating pancakes.”

Morgan shrugged. “He’s hungry.” She stared up at him. “What? It’s been a long day.”

She sat down abruptly. Unfortunate, the Tate-Saeters didn’t have chairs by their front door, so Skye wound up on the floor, bouncing a little as her ass made contact with the maple. “What is he?”

“Logan is Loki, a pure-born fire Jotun who became blood brothers with Odin after saving his sorry ass,