Morgan's Fate (12 page)

“It comes out of my ass on cloudy days.”

That set his twin off again. Morgan shook his head and got back to the task of looking for the Hammer of Thor. If
Mjolnir
were in the house, the two of them should be able to find it.

Unless Thor put it under some sort of ward, one that wouldn’t allow anyone to detect it. His father never had the magic of the Jotuns, but he’d had allies who would be willing to hide the hammer for him. Allies that might not want either side to have Thor’s mightiest weapon.

“Damn it. What did that bitch do with it?” Magnus tossed aside a box that held some of Thor’s clothes. It broke open, scattering jeans all over the place.

“Then he gave the hammer to Thor, and said that Thor might smite as hard as he desired, whatsoever might be before him, and the hammer would not fail; and if he threw it at anything, it would never miss, and never fly so far as not to return to his hand; and if be desired, he might keep it in his sark, it was so small; but indeed it was a flaw in the hammer that the fore-haft was somewhat short.”
Skye hummed. “It’s possible it’s been shrunk down and that’s why we can’t find it.”

“Magnus.” He reached for his brother, wincing when Magnus danced out of reach. “I really don’t think she found it. Frigg would have gloated if she had, but instead she was just as frustrated as you are.”

Magnus sighed and ran his fingers through his bright red hair. “I know, I know. But…”

Morgan grabbed Magnus and wrapped his arms around his twin. “I miss him too.”

“We didn’t have him for years. Not really.”

“And he didn’t have us.”

The tension left his brother’s shoulders. “Yeah. I know. One more thing Grimm needs to pay for.” Magnus sighed deeply and pulled free of Morgan. “I’m thinking of changing my name again.”

“What’s wrong with Magnus?” He was rather fond of his brother’s name. They always picked their mortal names together, and he’d been pushing for Magnus for his twin for two centuries. Magnus had finally given in twenty-five years ago. The name just seemed right for him.

“No, not Magnus. Magnus was never the problem. I want to get rid of Grimm.”

“Oh.” Yeah, he could see why Magnus would want to change their other name. “But Dad’s name was Grimm.”

Magnus’s head snapped up, the beginnings of a scowl darkening his expression. “So is
his
.”

Morgan wasn’t averse to the idea of changing their names, but he wanted to make sure his twin had thought it through. “A lot of the relatives we love have Grimm as well. Jeff, for instance.”

Magnus snorted, amused, a habit he’d picked up from Logan. “Like he’s not already Jeffrey Saeter.”

“Jamie.”

“Jamie Yardley-Rudiger.”

There was only one other person they needed to talk about, but he wasn’t sure if Val would influence this decision or not. Besides, he had an idea of what last name they’d take if they could. “Then if we’re going to pick a new name, I think we should take Tate.”

He heard Skye suck in a breath, but she stayed silent.

Magnus stilled, his expression instantly lightening once more. “You’re all right with that?”

Morgan grinned at his twin. He should have known Magnus had a plan. “You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?”

“Yeah. I think it’s the right thing to do, to honor Kir and Logan’s sacrifice and ditch the Old Man’s taint.”

“What about Uncle Val? He’d still be a Grimm.”

“We can talk to him, see what he wants to do. I’m not certain he’ll want to hold on to the Grimm name any more than we do, but I’m not sure he’ll want Tate either.”

“They
are
brothers. He might be willing.”

“He might.”

Magnus was grinning so wide Morgan was surprised his lips didn’t hit his earlobes. If this helped ease his brother’s pain, Morgan would gladly become a Tate. “Then we talk to Kir and make sure it’s all right with him.”

“It’s more than all right.” Morgan jumped at the sound of Kir’s voice. He turned to find Kir in the doorway of Fred and Jeanne’s bedroom, tears in his eyes. “Having my family again…” Kir looked away and swallowed hard. “You have no idea what that means to me.”

“Hey, Blondie, what’s—” Logan stopped, took one look at Kir’s teary expression and shot a black look at Morgan and Magnus. “What happened?”

Morgan and Magnus exchanged a glance. Morgan shrugged. “We want to change our last name to Tate.”

Logan’s expression went completely blank. “Ah. Yeah, that would do it.” He wrapped Kir in his arms, his gaze tender. “Jordan’s gonna love this.”

Kir chuckled. “Yeah, she is.”

“You’re all right with this?”

Logan winked, and Morgan felt the flex of the Trickster’s magic surge through the room. “Morgan and Magnus Tate sounds fine to me.”

Morgan pulled out his wallet and stared at his driver’s license. There, in black and white, was the name Morgan Tate. “Cool.”

“Thank you.” Kir kissed Logan’s cheek and stepped out of his hold.

“You’re welcome.” Logan grimaced. “Now all we have to do is get Jörmungandr and Sleipnir, and our family will be complete.”

Kir smiled at his lover. None of them were fooled by the forced cheer in Logan’s voice. They’d gotten to know him well in the close quarters they now lived in. That false bravado hid a bleeding heart. “We’ll find him and save him.”

“I know, Blondie. But right now we’ve got bigger fish to fry.” Logan nodded toward the twins. “You find the hammer yet?” He blinked, looking around the room as if seeing the boxes for the first time. “Why did you pack?”

“Frigg did it.”

Logan cursed viciously under his breath. “I’ll get started on the wards. Jeanne doesn’t need this shit.”

“Logan.” Morgan waited until he had Logan’s undivided attention. “I think Frigg might turn out to be as big a threat as Grimm. She’s gone beyond pissed and into psychotic. She thinks once you’re dead, Baldur will return to her.”

Thunder rumbled outside, and it didn’t come from him.

Oh, someone didn’t like that.
One of the few things that could rouse Kir and unleash Baldur, leader of the gods, was a threat to either Logan or Jordan.

Logan nodded once, sharply, before turning and heading back down the narrow stairs of Jeanne’s row house. He’d use his magic to make sure the wards were strong enough to keep Jeanne’s home safe.

Kir glanced around the room with a slightly confused expression. “Frigg should have been able to find it easily. Are you certain she didn’t walk out with it? I mean, it’s not like the comic books, where Thor was the only one who could lift it.”

Logan snorted in disgust. “Please. With all the stuff they got wrong, like that stupid horned hat, you expected them to get that one right?”

“Get over the hat, Logan.” Kir’s tone was amused.

“We didn’t frisk her, so it’s possible she managed to sneak it out.” Morgan shuddered at the thought.

“Or not.” Kir shrugged. “It might still be here. Try calling it. Now that your father is gone, it should respond to either you or Magnus.”

“This I’ve
got
to see,” Skye muttered. She backed up until she was standing next to Kir. “I wish you could summon popcorn.”

Kir grinned. “So do I.”

He cocked an eyebrow at Magnus, who nodded. Magnus would call first, trying to pull
Mjolnir
to himself.

Morgan watched as his brother took a deep breath. Magnus held out his hand, his brows drawn together in concentration. “Come.”

Nothing happened.

“Try Norwegian.”

Magnus shrugged. “
Komme til mig.
”

Again, nothing happened. “Try saying its name.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “
Komme til mig,
Mjolnir.”

Morgan crossed his arms. “Maybe I should try?”

“Damn it, it’s supposed to belong to both of us.” Magnus threw his hands in the air, that temper of his flaring up. “
Mjolnir
! Get your ass here
now
!”

Magnus flew across the room as a tiny flash of silver slammed into him. He hit the wall so hard he cracked the drywall.

“Holy shit.” Morgan fought his own laughter as Kir collapsed against the doorframe, giggling like a child. Skye laughed so hard she fell on her ass. “Hey, Magnus? I think you found
Mjolnir
.”

“Ow.”

Morgan fought his own laughter. “Good thing your head is so hard
.
”

“You suck so bad.” Magnus was slumped against the wall, a small silver pendant resting on his forehead. Already, a hammer-shaped bruise was forming where
Mjolnir
had struck him. He glared at Morgan. “Dickhead. You call it next time.” Morgan lost it as Magnus picked the small silver hammer off his forehead and flicked the tiny piece of silver at him. “Asshole.”

Logan leaned in and stared at them all, grinning widely. “Oh, hey. You found
Mjolnir
!”

This time Morgan lost it as his brother told Logan exactly where he could stick his hammer.

They’d found
Mjolnir
.

They’d found the hammer of Thor, and it was…pretty. Delicate.

Skye bit her lip as Magnus grumbled again, leading the way into the condo the brothers shared. “Fuck a duck.”

Morgan sighed and headed straight toward the kitchen. “Now what?”

Magnus collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh. “I don’t know. Skye?”

She shrugged. “You’ve got me.” Whatever she might have known about
Mjolnir
was still lost to her, deep in the foggy recesses of her life as Skuld.

Morgan came back into the room with three glasses of wine. He handed one to her last, his fingers lingering on the stem, bringing them together. She could feel her cheeks flushing, her skin heating with the need for him to touch her.

What she did know was that she’d wanted Modi long before she’d lost everything, and now she’d have the chance to have him. There was nothing, absolutely
nothing
standing in their way. There was no honor or duty that demanded she set aside her desire for him, no prophecy that declared he would ever love another. No whisper of her power demanded she pull away from him.

He wanted to give her everything, and she was more than willing to take what he was offering.

“Morgan?”

Skye licked her lips, well aware of what she was also offering her future lover.

“Skye? C’mon guys, I’m right here.”

Morgan ignored his twin, offering Skye a sip of wine from his own glass. She allowed him to bring it to her lips, savoring the deep, rich flavor. A bit of the wine remained on her lips, glossing them. Tempting him.

He licked her lips, tasting her offering. “Say yes.”

“Hell. I’m outta here. Have fun, you crazy kids.”

Morgan was smiling as his brother left the condo, but Skye was mortified. She’d totally forgotten he was even there. “He’s going to hate me.”

“Never.” Morgan took both their glasses and placed them on the table. “He understands more than you know.” She raised a brow, ready to question him on that, but he pressed his finger to her lips. “Say yes, Skye. Be mine.”

She pretended to think about it, toying with one of the buttons of his shirt.

“Please.”

That tortured whisper filled all the empty places inside her. That she’d brought Strength itself to his proverbial knees meant more than all the prophecies, all the years spent under Yggdrasil. “Yes.”

He let his forehead rest against hers and groaned. “Thank fuck.” His hand curled around the back of her head and he took her mouth, plundering her like the Viking god he had always been.

She didn’t know which one of them moaned, and she didn’t care. All she knew was she had to get this man naked
now
. She’d longed to see him naked, visited that particular fantasy almost every night for years before she’d lost herself, and now she was going to see everything she’d always dreamed of.

She pulled free of his mouth. “Bedroom?”

“Too far.” He tugged her shirt off over her head. “Table good?”

She giggled. She’d reduced him below Viking, her lover grunting like a caveman as his shirt flew across the room.

“Your turn.” He inched her back until her ass hit the edge of the kitchen table, tugging her pants down. He grunted again, rolling his eyes when she began laughing in earnest. “A little help here? Kick off your shoes, maybe?”

She did, leaning back against the table with a happy sigh. She loved playing with lovers, knowing it was safe to laugh even in the midst of something so important. Morgan shook his head as he eased her pants off, smiling until he realized that all she wore was the lacy pink bra and panty set. “Oh, fuck me stupid. This is what you wear under your clothes?” He visibly swallowed as she shoved the cups of the bra down, exposing her breasts to his gaze. “I’m doomed.”

She ran her hands down her chest, pinching her own nipples. “Uh-huh.”

He growled, watching as she ran her hands over her stomach. “Never mind. You’re doomed. I’m never letting you go again.”

She looked up at him from under her lashes. “Good. Because if you do I’m going to hunt you down and do some really horrible, nasty things to you.”

He unclasped her bra, some of the driving urgency gone. “Like what?”

There was one thing boys, no matter what their age, feared more than anything else. “Sic Mama Jeanne on you.”

He glared at her, but humor lurked in the expression, ready to burst at any moment. “You play dirty.”

She toyed with the lacy top of her panties. “Uh-huh.”

He lowered his head to her shoulder, his whiskers rasping against her skin. She shivered, the desire to play one game fading as the desire to begin another filled her. “That’s just evil.”

“Your point being?”

Every thought left her head as he licked one of her exposed nipples, tasted it, savored it until it was a diamond point against his tongue. When she took his head in her hands and guided him to her other breast he took the hint, loving on both nipples equally. She whined, ready to beg him for anything he was willing to give if only he’d quench the fire he’d caused to rage inside her.

Morgan delved beneath the edge of her panties, stroking her clit with sure, even strokes that sent her over the edge with a startled cry.