“Here.”

 

Skye looked up to find Morgan Grimm holding out his hand to her.

 

“Come with me.”

 

“Yes. Get her out of here. She doesn’t belong either.” Frigg waved her hand dismissively. “None of you do.”

 

Skye was really beginning to dislike the woman who claimed to be Fred Grimm’s mother. She opened her mouth to give her a piece of her mind when something odd happened. She saw the woman bent with grief, sobbing her heart out while at her feet lay—

 

“Then is fulfilled Hlín’s

second sorrow,

when Óðinn goes

to fight with the wolf,

and Beli’s slayer,

bright, against Surtr.

Then shall Frigg’s

sweet friend fall.”

 

Frigg stepped back as Skye’s voice rang out, her eyes wide with horror.

 

Skye had no idea what was going on, or why she’d said something so weird, but she took Morgan’s outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her away from the madness surrounding the casket of Fred Grimm.

 

“Nice one.”

 

“I have no idea why I said that.” Or why she felt so comfortable with the hot man leading her to the front door and possible freedom.

 

“I do, and I’ll protect you as best I can.”

 

She blinked. “Um. Yeah. I have enough protectors.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. She just knew the Terminator was watching them. She could feel those eyes of his boring into them, keeping an eye on all of them.

 

But the Terminator had turned out to be a cuddly teddy bear in disguise. It looked like it was the women of this wacko family you had to watch out for.

 

“Ah. Uncle Val is watching out for you.”

 

“Uncle Val?” Damn. This family must have a direct line to the fountain of youth.

 

Morgan shrugged. “It’s a long story.”

 

“I keep hearing that, but no one’s willing to read it to me.”

 

That startled a quickly muffled laugh out of him. Morgan sat next to her, keeping hold of her hand when she tried to pull away. He absently stroked her knuckles, his gaze holding hers despite herself. “I give you my word, after the funeral we’ll help you make sense of it all.”

 

The shrieking harpy sailed out the door, but not without one final death glare at Morgan Grimm and the rest of her family. “I will find a way to free Baldur from you, Loki.”

 

Morgan stood, blocking Skye’s view of Mrs. Grimm. “In your dreams, Grandmother. Kir and Logan have the support of the sons of Thor.”

 

Grandmother? Sons of Thor? Was this some sort of secret cult thingy, and “grandmother” was a title? That might actually make a weird sort of sense. It certainly made more sense than these young men being the children of a man who appeared to be the same age they were.

 

“Your father would be ashamed of you, but what can I expect from the children of a Jotun?” Mrs. Grimm sneered.

 

“My father loved me. Can you say the same, Grandmother?” Morgan didn’t sound fazed by the vicious jab.

 

Man, she was getting a headache from all of this. She rubbed at her forehead wearily. She needed a nap after this. Or a shot or two of tequila. Whichever she could get her hands on first.

 

“At least you and your twin aren’t part human.” And with that last jab she was gone, trailed by Chanel No. 5 and half the room, not all of who looked happy about leaving. One blonde in particular was sobbing as she reluctantly left, her gaze straying one final time to the casket.

 

Human. Right. Skye began looking around for the white rabbit, because hell if she hadn’t fallen down its hole into Wonderland. “I so need a drink.”

 

She thought she’d said it quietly enough, but Jeff Grimm and Fenris Saeter both turned and stared at her with amused expressions before talking quietly with Jordan. The woman was standing by the casket, her shoulders slumped as she sobbed on Kir’s shoulder. Logan was rubbing her arms, obviously trying to keep her calm.

 

Off to their side, Travis Yardley-Rudiger was holding his fiancée, Jamie Grimm, while she quietly cried. Jamie sniffled and wiped away a tear. “I can’t believe them. How could they do this to Dad? They want to confront us, fine, but do it after the funeral, damn it.”

 

“Shh. Forgive it, but don’t forget it, sweetheart.” Travis pulled Jamie away from the casket, making room for Magnus to step forward and pay his respects.

 

“Let them go, Jamie. They aren’t worthy of our anger, or our father.” Morgan retook his seat next to her and picked up her hand again. “Your name is Skylar, right?”

 

She nodded. “They told you about me?”

 

For just a second his expression turned wary. “A little bit.”

 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Morgan should be up at the front of the room with the rest of the immediate family, all of who looked far too old to be Mr. Grimm’s children. “But shouldn’t you be up there?” Not back with her, stopping her from leaving?

 

Morgan tugged her to her feet, tucking her hand through his arm. “Thank you, and you’re right. I should be.” She followed him to the casket, unwilling to make a scene. No matter what she thought of all this madness, a man was dead. A man these people obviously loved.

 

Morgan placed his free hand on his brother’s shoulder. His voice, when he spoke, was filled with a mixture of rage and grief that sent shivers of apprehension down her spine. “We will avenge him, Magnus.”

 

“I know.”

 

Morgan squeezed Magnus’s shoulder before tugging her forward. “Skylar Kincade, meet my twin brother, Magnus Grimm. Magnus, this is Skye.”

 

The brothers exchanged an unreadable glance, then Magnus held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Skye.”

 

“And you. I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

Magnus nodded his head, grief tightening his features. “Thank you.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and she tensed. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she preferred Morgan’s touch to Magnus’s.

 

Magnus smiled briefly and pulled her away from the casket. He bent and whispered in her ear. “Would you be willing to sit with Morgan? I have some family business to deal with before I can join him.”

 

“Uh…” All she’d wanted to do was go, but it seemed the Grimm family was determined to keep her around. She sighed, defeated. How was she supposed to say no to a man who was mourning his father? “Sure.”

 

“Thank you. I appreciate that. Dad’s death has hit him pretty hard, even if he’s not showing it. Morgan’s all tough on the outside but a marshmallow on the inside.”

 

“Like Uncle Val.”

 

Magnus blinked, his gaze darting over to the intimidating man standing next to Jamie and Travis. Okay, so marshmallow might not be the first thing that sprang to mind when you met Val’s cold gaze. “Yeah. Just like Uncle Val.” He smiled weakly and walked her back to Morgan. “Keep an eye on her, brother.”

 

“Will do.” Morgan placed her hand through his arm.

 

“Why do you need to keep an eye on me?” Skye was becoming frightened. She was terrified they weren’t ever going to let her out of their sight. If this was a kidnapping, it was the weirdest one she’d ever heard of. Who carted the victim off to a funeral?

 

“I promised I’d answer your questions after the funeral, Skye. I’ll hold to that promise, but for now, all I’ll say is we believe you may be in danger.” Morgan pointed to his father’s casket. “Danger that could wind up with you in the same position as my father...

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Dana Marie Bell.

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