Morgan's Fate

Chapter Seven

“It has to be here somewhere.” Skye stood, her hands on her hips, and glared down at the unopened box.

“For all we know, we accidentally buried him with it.”

“Well. That would suck monkey balls.” She sneezed at the dust that rose from the box she’d just opened.

Magnus choked. “Monkey balls?”

She shrugged and turned back to the box, but Morgan could see her cheeks turn red. The way she seemed to switch between Skylar Kincade, American photographer, and Skuld, all-powerful Fate, was endearing as hell.

“That’s what you think. Dad could have stashed it somewhere in Valhalla and we’ll never see it again.” Morgan grimaced as Magnus pulled out yet another box. They’d been at this for hours and still hadn’t found a hint that Mjolnir was anywhere in the house.

“You think Frigg found it?”

Morgan sighed, taking the dusty box from Skye as she started sneezing again. “That woman is seriously fucked in the head. If she’d found it, she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from gloating.”

“She was like that from the beginning.” Skye wiped her eyes and sniffled. “She was a bitch from day one. Always thought that because she was fucking Odin we owed her something. Vicious twat.”

Magnus was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. He turned to Morgan and grinned, waggling his eyebrows. “I like her. Can we keep her?”

Morgan rolled his eyes even as Skye laughed at his idiot brother. “Frigg won’t be coming back. Can we work now?” They’d make sure of it. Jeanne’s home, her sanctuary, the place she’d raised their brother and sisters, would remain in Jeanne’s hands for as long as she wanted it. Logan and Kir had immediately agreed with Morgan when he contacted them. The two were on their way to set up the wards that would keep any but Jeanne and her brood out of this house until Jeanne said otherwise.

They weren’t sure if they would tell Jeanne what her mother-in-law had done. She’d be far too angry to think rationally, and no one was willing to risk what would happen if Jeanne went up against Frigg. Jeanne was mortal. Frigg would tear her apart to get what she wanted without a qualm.

On the other hand, Jeanne Grimm could be one scary-ass lady when pissed. Morgan might bring popcorn to that fight.

Morgan opened his senses, looking for that point of strength that was Kir, and found it barely two blocks away. Whatever had delayed the other gods, they were here now. Jeanne’s home would soon be safe.

“You’re always such a ray of sunshine, Morgan.”

“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.

He didn’t let up, not for a second, his fingers and tongue just…just…

“Oh, god, Morgan. Right there.”

He was too much, and it wasn’t enough, and soon she was keening in pleasure again as the orgasm ripped through her.

He lifted his hand from her body, licking his fingers clean as she watched, enraptured by his every move. The heat in his gaze threatened to burn her as he took her mouth. The faint taste of her pleasure lingered on his tongue.

They were both sheened with sweat, her panties and bra taken off her and tossed to the floor as he tasted her pussy, the want and need growing with each stroke of his fingers, each flick of his tongue.

“So sweet. I knew you’d be sweet.” He feasted on her, his expression at once tender and hungry.

She sucked in a breath at his voice, the need and desire inside him overwhelming her. “More.”

“And more, and more.” He smiled down at her as his cock nudged her opening. She gripped the edge of the table, bracing herself for what was coming. “Anything for you.” He kissed her, his mouth hard and hot on hers. “You look like a debauched angel.”

“Come inside me, Morgan.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, reveling in the way he shuddered at her touch. “Make me yours.”

“No one else gets you but me from now on.”

“Never again, Morgan.” He’d ruined her for other men, and he hadn’t even entered her fully yet.

He slid into her, the hard, hot length of him joining them together. “Stay with me.”

She tightened around him, enjoying the way his big warrior’s body shook. “What about you? Does anyone else get you?”

“Hell no.” He leaned down and took her mouth. “You’re it for me.”

She looked up into his eyes and read the truth there. He loved her. He probably always had, and that knowledge settled everything for her. She would stay, would be with her lover, her warrior.

It was her fate, and she embraced it gladly.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and gave in to the one thing she’d wanted all her life. “Love me, Morgan.”

He shuddered. “Yes. Yes, Skye.”

He started moving, dragging that hot cock of his in and out of her body, shutting her mind down to everything but the sensations he gifted her with. His fingers plucked at her nipples, the twinge of pain and pleasure zooming straight down to her clit. She held on to his arms for dear life, the sharp edge of orgasm closer and closer to cutting her open, exposing forever the heart he’d always owned, if only he’d known it.

His eyes scrunched closed, his movements becoming more and more uncoordinated. “Come for me, Skye. C’mon, baby. Come for me.”

His thumb stroked her clit once, twice, three times and she screamed. Her nails dug into his arms as the orgasm shook her whole body. She shuddered beneath him, her legs pulling him into her as she convulsed around him.

His body locked, his limbs quivered and a groan escaped his mouth. He came, filling her with his warmth, his expression a grimace of pleasure. He leaned down until his forehead touched the tabletop, his panting breaths hot against her neck.

“Morgan, we need… Aw, man.”

Her eyes flew open in horror as Magnus’s voice washed over her, the amused disgust not helping her embarrassment one little bit. That Morgan had frozen, bent over, his softening cock still half inside her, told her that he wasn’t handling his brother’s sudden intrusion any better than she was.

When Magnus spoke again, it took everything in her not to buck Morgan off her with her laughter. “Shit, dude. I mean, c’mon. I eat there.”

Morgan flicked his brother the finger, but not once did he lift himself off her body. “What do you want, asshole?”

“Asshole? I’m the asshole? You’ve traumatized my Cheerios!”

Morgan lifted his head just far enough that he could share a look with Skye, the laughter almost breaking free as they gazed at one another. “Why did you come back?”

“Logan and Kir want to powwow at their place, but I’d suggest you both put on pants before strolling over.” As Magnus made to leave the condo, out of the corner of her eye she caught him shaking his head. “What is it with this family and fucking in kitchens?” He shook his finger at them as he strode out the door. “This right here is why I eat out!”

The door slammed shut behind him, and they burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.