Eye of the Beholder (6 page)

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Authors: Dana Marie Bell

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: Eye of the Beholder
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“Wonder Twins?” Travis nearly choked trying not to laugh. It was the first time he’d heard Jordan refer to Jeff and Jamie as the Wonder Twins. From the look on her face if he did laugh she’d inflict major bodily harm on his person.

She ignored him. “Each of you get one for each of us, as well as yourselves. We’ll have a steak-off. You—” She pointed at a surprised Kir, “—get your ass back in the truck and guard mine so Logan doesn’t have an aneurysm. Now move. I don’t like cold cheesesteaks.” She hurled herself back into the SUV and sat with her arms crossed, glaring out the front window.

The men stared at one another and shrugged. Logan and Travis headed for Pat’s while Kir settled into the back seat with Jordan, snuggling her close and kissing the side of her neck. They’d hit Geno’s on the way back to the car.

“Who decided the little dictator should come with us again?” Logan shoved his hands into his back pockets, looking bored. Travis wasn’t fooled, though. Logan was on point, wary of every person who walked by the SUV. He kept an eye on it at all times, his eyes moving between the customers, the car and any possible threats.

“Jamie.” She’d sent them on this food expedition as a way to distract Jordan, who’d been hovering over her like a mother hen and snapping at anyone and everyone who got within five feet of Jamie. The look of relief on Jamie’s face as Travis had dragged Jordan out of the house was worth the grumpiness Jordan was flinging around.

Jeff was also at the powerfully warded condo, keeping watch on his twin. The condo was so heavily guarded now he couldn’t even think how Grimm could possibly get inside. “She said she wanted someone along to supervise us.” Travis barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Jordan could barely keep awake. Right now, the only thing she was capable of supervising were her own eyelids. “By the way, why couldn’t we get cheesesteaks from somewhere closer to us?” He stepped up to the window and placed their order, letting Logan remain on guard.

Logan stared at him like he’d grown another head. “There are other cheesesteak places? Where?”

The man behind the counter laughed as he handed them their steaks. “Exactly. Swear to God, ain’t nobody in the damn city makes cheesesteaks like us.”

“Amen,” Logan laughed, winking at Travis as they made their way back across the street. They stood in line, got the second set of steaks, and headed back to the SUV.

“Finally.” Jordan pouted, right up until Logan shoved the bag of food into her hands. She settled back down with a contented sigh, sniffing the bags occasionally to get a whiff.

Travis reached for the bags, only wanting to hold them so she could catch a nap, but she growled and clutched them to her chest. With a laugh he held up his hand. “Right, do not get between the pregnant lady and the food.”

When the three of them stared at him, shocked speechless, he realized exactly what he’d said.
Crap.
“Um, what I meant was—”

“We’re pregnant?” Kir’s hand immediately went to Jordan’s stomach, rubbing protectively over where the baby was. His eyes turned to spring skies instantly, white clouds drifting lazily across brilliant blue. “He’s right. We’re pregnant, Logan. Two weeks along.”

Logan took a deep breath, his eyes riveted to Jordan’s stomach. His hands clenched on the leather seats as he gulped. “Holy fuck.”

Exactly.
What had they expected with a fertility god? How Logan hadn’t wound up pregnant over the years was still a mystery to Travis, as Logan, an expert shapeshifter, hadn’t only been in male form over the centuries. Travis cleared his throat. “Maybe we should get her home.” He glanced over at Jordan to see a dazed, terrified look in her eyes. “Yeah. That might be good.”

“Twins.” Kir’s voice deepened as Baldur roused, the feel of his child under his palm making the fertility god smile. “I can feel them. One born of me, one born of you.”

Travis smiled. He wondered if he and Jamie would eventually have twins. From the look of things, if he ever got her into his bed and his life, the odds were good he’d have to think of two baby names instead of one since Odin’s line seemed to be chock full of them.

The two men looked at each other, hope and fear warring with the shock on both their faces.

Logan turned to Jordan. “You’re out of the fight.”

That got a reaction out of Jordan. “Logan—”


I am not losing another child to Grimm!

Travis shut his eyes, but the overwhelming scent of burning leather nearly choked him. He opened the passenger side window to let some fresh air in and hopefully calm Logan down.

He turned back to find both Kir and Jordan had hold of Logan and were stroking him. Logan was shaking like a leaf.

Travis got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side. He pulled open the door. “Out.” He tugged until a wild-eyed Logan stood, shoving the other man into the back seat with Kir and Jordan. “Keys.”

They were handed to him by Kir with a nod of thanks. Travis watched as the three curled around each other in a big knot with Logan tucked in the middle. He shut the back door and climbed into the driver’s side. He pulled out his cell phone and called Magnus, then Morgan. “Change of plans. Meet me at hothead’s, fifteen minutes.” He shut the phone and dialed Val, giving him the same message before pulling out into traffic.

“Don’t call either of my fathers.”

He glanced in the rearview mirror to see Jordan stroking Logan’s hair. Kir was soothing Logan, stroking his back. After the way Fred Grimm and Adam Grey had tortured Logan, Travis wasn’t surprised she still wasn’t speaking to them. He nodded once and turned back to the road.

It was time to set a few things straight. Time to help Logan release his living children from Grimm’s bondage.

“How did you know?” Kir’s eyes were still that eerie spring day, inhuman and beautiful and staring at him with a mixture of confusion and determination. “I knew something was different, but I didn’t know what. And I’m a God of Spring, in charge of fertility.”

He grimaced as he turned toward Rittenhouse Square. “I promise I’ll explain after lunch. I only want to tell it once.”

Travis ignored Kir’s long, thoughtful look, and hoped the man would be able to handle the truth.

Chapter Five

Grimm walked into the police station, smiling and waving to his co-workers. Rina had laughed her ass off when he’d first explained this part of the scheme, loving the simplicity of what he had in mind. She’d been extremely useful in hiding Solberg’s body, freezing it solid, then watching as he shattered it into a million pieces. She’d swept up the debris and dropped it into a nearby lake, claiming the fish would appreciate the snack. She was certain that Travis and Val would be toast once he got a hold of them. Her faith in him was a hell of a turn-on, almost as much as her viciousness. “Did we get anything back on those forensics yet?”

Detective Mancinelli nodded. Her cold hazel eyes held a hint of the hunt, that lure that pulled people into police work and kept them there. “You’ve got good instincts, Solberg.” She rifled through some papers, stopping when she reached the one she wanted. “Seems the Luminol test showed large amounts of blood on that fun-room floor.” She shook her head. “What the fuck did they do to that man? There was spray pattern all over the fucking place. Just from the way the drops fell, it looks like he was stabbed and slashed repeatedly.”

He hid his triumphant grin, plastering a look of intense concentration on his face. “Has his wife reported him missing yet?”
Thank you, Rina, for calling in the missing person report.
Without that even he would have had a hard time convincing the police to investigate his murder.

“No, but the bitch took over the company not four weeks ago. Man, her lawyer was pissed when we called with that warrant.” She closed the papers, her expression hard. “I wanna talk to her, find out where she thinks the darling hubby’s at.” She smirked. “How much you wanna bet she gives us some song and dance about him bein’ off with his mistress? ‘Oh, Officer, boo-hoo, he left me, now I get to live off all this money and fuck my boy-toy into next week. Whatevah shall I do?’ ”

The amused cynicism in the detective’s voice as she batted her lashes at him had him laughing out loud. Oh, she was going to be a pleasure to tame. Too bad she seemed resistant to his persuasive powers
.
He sighed. If he could just get into her head, he’d have even more pleasant diversions to look forward to than watching one hot, dedicated cop take down the banes of his existence. He might even be able to explore whatever it was in her ancestry that gave her the ability to resist him.

Snapping fingers in front of his face brought him back to the present. “You payin’ attention, Danny-boy?” He looked up to find her staring at him in amused disdain. “’Cause my eyes are up here.” She pointed to her face with the sheaf of papers, before shaking her head and slapping them against his chest. He caught them on pure reflex as she turned and walked away from him. “Want to work on gettin’ the warrant for poor old Mrs. Grimm’s place?”

“I don’t know. I’m leaning more toward the son and his friend, Travis.” She stopped, turning to frown at him. “Rumor has it the old man had a fight with both of them not long before he disappeared.” A couple of other phone calls had made sure she heard those rumors too. “There’s no indication that Mrs. Grimm was anything other than happy with Mr. Grimm.”

She rolled her eyes. “Tell you what, get search warrants for all three places.” She turned and headed back for their shared desk, her hips swaying enticingly.

“Sure, no problem.” He smirked. Damn, he liked watching her walk away. When all of this was over, he’d have to make sure to enjoy the good detective for a while. From the gleam in Rina’s eyes the first time she caught sight of Detective Mancinelli he didn’t think she’d object to a little fun herself.

He sat at his desk and dialed the phone. “Hello, Judge Foster? I need to discuss some search warrants with you.” He smiled, infusing his voice with just enough power to get exactly what he wanted. He’d already gotten the judge to issue the warrant for Grimm and Sons. This, with actual evidence, would be a piece of cake.

Jamie grinned when her brothers Magnus and Morgan showed up at the condo for lunch, sniffing the air appreciatively.

Ah, the lure of the Philly cheesesteak.
She bit into her sandwich, slapping Jeff’s hand away when he reached for her hot peppers. “Get your own,” she mumbled around a bite of gooey, cheesy goodness.

Magnus just shook his head at her as he settled on the floor in front of the coffee table. Her love of hot peppers was something of a legend in the family, as was Jeff’s attempts to steal them. He popped the tab on a can of soda and took a healthy drink before unwrapping his sandwich. “How’re you feeling, munchkin?”

“Like I was run over by a truck.”

Magnus winced, unable to keep from visibly tracing her bruises.

“I don’t blame you, Mag.”

“Don’t matter. He blames him.” Morgan sat next to his twin and unrolled his sandwich. “Hell, I blame me too.”

“The only one to blame is Grimm, and you know it.” Travis sat next to her on the sofa, his can of soda right next to hers. He had a bowl of chips cradled in his right arm. He waved away her attempt to take it from him, placing it between them after he’d set his soda down. She’d never had the chance to watch him so closely before. Seeing how he handled his lack of a right hand had been something of an eye-opener. Things she took for granted, like holding her phone and texting her friends at the same time, Travis had to find work-arounds for. But not once had she ever heard him complain or seen him act uncomfortable. More than once her fingers had twitched, wanting to help him button his shirt, but she’d held back. He didn’t need her help, and frankly she didn’t have the right to touch him that way.

“Here.” A hand reached around and gave Travis his sandwich.

“Thanks, Jeff.”

Her twin slid onto the third spot on the sofa next to Travis. “Welcome.” He bit into his sandwich with a happy moan. “Mmm. Geno’s.”

“Heathen,” Magnus coughed.

“Pagan.”

“Children.” Kir joined the brothers on the floor. “Play nice.”

“Or what?” Morgan asked, balling up and tossing his empty wrapper at Jeff.

“Or Logan will keep all the cheesecake for himself.” Logan helped Jordan into the chair, handing her a soda and a sandwich before heading off into the kitchen again.

Jeff frowned. “Since when do you drink Sprite, Jordy?”

“Since today.” She took a sip and made a face. “Blech.”

“Gimme, I’ll drink it.” Jamie stood to take the can of soda from her sister.

Travis pulled her gently back down. “Let her be.”

What the hell? “I was just gonna switch drinks.”

“Sit.” Travis’s eyes narrowed, but something about his expression was off. He was hiding something from her, and she didn’t like it one little bit.

“Woof.” Jamie matched Travis’s glare, but it was hard. At least most of the swelling was finally gone, so glaring at him was no longer painful. Of course, now she looked like a goth Rainbow Bright, all greens and purples in unattractive places.

He sighed. “Trust me. Don’t switch drinks.”

“Why not?”

“Yeah, why not?” Jordan stood, but got put back in her seat by Logan, who sat on the arm of her chair.

Logan stared down at Jordan, a frown on his face. “Do you want me to tell them why not, or would you rather tell them?”

Jeff was watching them, speculation in his eyes. “You’re pregnant.”

All sound ceased as Jamie and her brothers stared at Jordan.

Jordan rolled her eyes, and pandemonium erupted. It was so loud Jamie barely heard the doorbell ring.

“I’ll get it. Stay put.” Travis got up and answered the door, letting Uncle Val into the condo.

Seriously, what do these guys eat? ’Cause I want me some.
It suddenly shocked her how good the men in her family looked. Uncle Val could have been a model. Admittedly, he’d be selling guns or motorcycles, but still. M’row. She bit down on her cheesesteak with a grimace.
And ew for thinking that.
Uncle Val had to be in his mid to late forties by now. Instead, he looked like a man in his late twenties or early thirties.

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