Very Much Alive (9 page)

Kir waited until he knew for certain Jordan was asleep. “Got the camera?”

“Yup.” Logan hefted the bag. They’d quietly dismantled all of the equipment, trying their best not to disturb Jordan. Kir’s idea was a great one, but they had to head into Rittenhouse Square to make it work. Luckily he’d calmed down enough for the rain to stop, or they would have had to wait since the camera wasn’t waterproof.

Logan set up the wards while Kir made sure everything was locked up tight. Logan had had to adjust them due to Jordan’s presence, but the extra step hadn’t seemed to faze him at all. “All set.”

They headed for the elevator and made their way outside. They walked quickly to a secluded part of the park, shivering in the early spring air. They ducked behind the statue “Lion Crushing a Serpent,” by the French sculptor Antoine-Louis Barye; the area was small and surrounded by bushes on three sides, perfect for what they wanted to do. At this time of night the kids who liked to climb the lion were already home, safely tucked away in bed. Logan set up the camera while Kir prepared the pot of soil he’d brought with him.

Kir took a deep, calming breath, and let it out slowly. “Ready when you are.”

Logan’s warm smile helped ease his jitters.
Here goes nothing.

Chapter Five

“Hello?”

“He’s alive, Oliver.”

Grimm blinked, the blood rushing to his head as his temples throbbed. “Frederica, what are you talking about?”

“Our son, Oliver. Baldur is
alive
.”

He sighed, trying his best to sound weary while his mind scrambled on how she could know the truth after all this time. “Darling, you know he’s not. Hermod himself confirmed it when he saw Baldur in the Underworld.” And wasn’t it a relief that Hermod was as stupid as he was gullible, or he would have noticed that Baldur was
breathing
.

Hermod was also known to be honest to a fault. He’d seen Baldur in Hel; therefore, Baldur must be dead, reinforcing the lie he’d told.

Good old Hermod. Grimm wondered if he was enjoying the Underworld as much as Hodr was.

“Have you had your tonic today, sweetheart?”

She paused, her breathing harsh over the phone. “No.”

The extra-strength potion he’d made for her to take while Baldur and Loki were so close to his home territory would take the edge off her nosiness. “Take some, before you make yourself ill over this travesty of a hoax. I’ll deal with Loki myself. I promise you that.”

She paused again, then meekly said, “All right.”

He heard her sipping and smiled.
Stupid cow.
Keeping her docile had been remarkably easy once he figured out the secret of the apples. “Now, go rest, and allow me to deal with Loki’s treachery.”

“I’ve sent you the link to the video he made, Oliver.” He could hear her stifling tears. “It looks so much like our Baldur, right down to the eyes.”

Grimm’s blood ran cold at the thought. “I’ll take a look, my dear. Go rest.”

She sniffed. “Will you be home tonight?”

He thought of Rina, and the silken present she’d promised him that night. “No, dear, I think I’d better take care of this problem as soon as possible. Don’t you think?”

She sighed. “Of course.”

In his most loving, caring voice, Grimm said, “Get some rest. I love you.” He practically gagged on the words.

“I love you too.”

He hung up, and opened the email Frigg had sent him.

By the end of the video, his entire office was covered in frost.

Val clicked open the email link his father had sent him.
Deal with this!
had been the subject line. Val had no idea what had the Old Man’s briefs in a bunch this time…

His jaw dropped open in shock as Baldur’s face took up his screen. He clicked on the “play” button.

“Hello, Aesir and Vanir.” Baldur’s beautiful voice purred in Old Norse. Those pale eyes were cold as ice. “I think you all know who I am. Or maybe not.” Baldur moved back, smiling gently as he did so. Val shivered. “After all, you’ve been trying to kill me for centuries now, haven’t you? Quite frankly, I’m getting tired of it.”

The sudden deepening of his voice had Val leaning forward in his chair.
What are they up to?

“Ever since that day in the Thing, you have hunted us and hounded us. You have given us no peace. You have murdered wives and sons, turned brother against brother, and destroyed lives in your quest to destroy my lover. But enough is enough. I will tolerate no more.

“A week ago Jordan Grey was shot trying to protect Loki and me.” He leaned in close to the camera again. Val groaned when he saw that Baldur’s pupils had started to turn white.
That’s bad.
“By the way, Val, I owe you one for that.” He pulled back to the sound of a dark chuckle.
Loki’s there.
Make that
very
bad.
“I owe
all
of you, actually.” His eyes left the camera lens long enough to watch Loki walk around and take position behind Baldur. “Watch carefully, people. I’m only going to do this once.” Baldur stared into the camera, his gentle smile never wavering, as the pot he’d been holding quivered. A sprig of green appeared, rapidly growing in Baldur’s hands until a perfectly formed white lily opened its trumpet-like flower. Behind him, all of the bushes sprouted tiny flowers as well, blue with white centers, just like Baldur’s eyes.

It was a miracle, since those bushes were obviously yews, and incapable of flowering. This meant that it really
was
Baldur standing there, and not some imposter like Grimm had been telling the gods for centuries. The magic of the Jotun, even Loki’s, couldn’t fake a
true
miracle.

“These flowers have bloomed to mark both an end and a beginning.” Baldur’s blue and white gaze was glued to the camera. Val couldn’t shake the feeling that he was staring right at him. You barely noticed Loki standing behind him, somehow in shadow.

Val groaned. Baldur was glowing. It was
his
shadow his lover stood in.

“You all forgot something, you know. I am a God of Spring. I bring peace, hope, joy, et cetera.” He waved his hand, careful not to knock over the lily. Val could hear Loki’s snort of amusement behind Baldur, noted the first hint of warmth to enter those cold eyes. “Just as you have given me no peace, now I give you no peace.” Those sky blue eyes darkened until the white pupils glared out of a circle of navy. “No gardens shall bloom, no sun shall shine for you. Winter is in your hearts to stay until justice is served, both for the torment you’ve given Loki and myself and the injuries you’ve done to our families.”

At that point, Loki leaned forward, placing one hand on Baldur’s shoulder. “By the way, Frey? Thor? Jordan’s fine. We’re keeping her safe.” That devil’s grin that had gotten him into so much trouble over the centuries was on his face. “And we’ve decided to just plain keep her.”

Oh, shit.
Val watched as the familiar YouTube scrolling screen appeared, asking people to rate the video.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.

No wonder Grimm was ready to blow a gasket.

Frey and Thor would probably start bellowing like bulls, knowing that Jordan was in Loki’s hands. It wouldn’t matter to them that she was also in Baldur’s hands, since they probably still believed Baldur was an imposter. He wondered how many phone calls Grimm had already gotten from them.

And he wondered how Frigg would take the news that her son was still alive.

He blinked, startled, as his hands left the keyboard. He’d just emailed the link to each and every one of the Aesir and Vanir in his address book.

Damn it, Loki! What the hell do you think you’re doing?

But deep down, he knew. He just hoped Jordan didn’t get any more hurt than she’d already been. If she hadn’t leapt to Logan’s defense, she never would have gotten hurt in the first place. He’d aimed the shot to miss by just a hair, a hair Jordan had stepped into.
Damn it.

There was a gasp from outside his office. Stepping out to see what was going on, he saw plants withering and dying. And from the gasps and yelling he could hear, all of the plants in Grimm and Sons were doing the same.

The true meaning of Baldur’s curse hit home.

He turned and went back into his office, trying to hide his snicker behind a cough.

Damn, bro. Way to make your point.

God of Spring, indeed.

The incessant pounding on the door had Logan groggily getting to his feet. Kir was sleeping in the bed with Jordan, making sure she didn’t need anything, while Logan had stayed up all night working. He’d just fallen asleep on the sofa after a long bout of research, both on the computer and in some of the more esoteric books he owned.

It had been two days since they’d brought Jordan home, with orders to see to it that she got physical therapy. If Logan was right, though, she wouldn’t need it.

He opened the door to a small, pissed-off redhead. Her wild curls danced around her head in their own fiery halo. Her foot was tapping a staccato beat as she glared at him. “Where’s Jordan?”

“Good morning to you too, Jamie.” He blinked sleepily, scratching at his naked chest as he yawned. It was too damn early in the morning for this. “Jordan’s sleeping.”

Her pixie eyes narrowed. “
Where
?”

He couldn’t help it. He leered down at her. “In my bed. With Goldilocks.”

She took a deep breath. “
Jordan!
”

He winced and fought the urge to cover his ears. She had a set of lungs on her that would make an opera singer proud. “Fuck, shut the hell up. You want to wake the whole damn floor?” He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her through, ignoring her gasp when the wards flared up around her. Something about that bothered him, but he was too damn tired to figure it out. “Jordan was shot. She’s just out of the hospital and needs her rest.”

She growled up at him, cute as a kitten. “Exactly. Moron. Which is why I’m here.”

“What’s up?” Kir stepped out of the bedroom, all rumpled and warm, his black sleep pants full of wrinkles. Logan wanted to just slurp him up, especially when he yawned and rubbed his six-pack abs.

Jamie growled again.

He pointed with his thumb at Jamie. “The Chihuahua here wants to know where Jordan is. Ow.” He leaned over and rubbed his shin, glaring at Jamie. She’d actually kicked him, and now stood there, glowering at him. “Down, tiger.”

“
Where is my sister?
” Jamie was actually shrieking, stamping her foot, her face turning beet red.

Kir looked at Logan and grimaced. “She’s in bed, sleeping.”

“Not anymore.” A sleepy, grumpy-looking Jordan stuck her head out of the doorway. “Morning, Jamie. I see you haven’t had your coffee yet.”

“Jordan? You okay? Tweedledum here didn’t want to let me in.”

“I opened the damn door, didn’t I?” He limped into the room, ignoring Kir’s rolling eyes, and headed right for Jordan. He kissed her on top of her sleep-rumpled head. Her hair was sticking up, and it tickled his nose. He pouted down at her. “She kicked me.”

“Poor baby.” She patted him on the head, yawning again. “Go make coffee, will you?”

“Work, work, work.” Logan paused by Kir long enough to exchange a quick kiss before he headed into the kitchen, grumbling.

“Cinderfelly, Cinderfelly, night and day it’s Cinderfelly,” Jordan sang as she headed back into the bedroom, presumably to get dressed.

Logan stopped, stunned. He put his hands on his hips and turned, not surprised to see Kir collapsed against the doorframe, laughing his ass off. “Very funny, dickhead. Why don’t you go deal with the evil stepsister while I put coffee on, okay?”

He caught the look of suspicion on Jamie’s face as he headed into the kitchen, but at least some of the anger had left her eyes.
Good. I don’t want Jordan upset.
And having her baby sister fussing would upset her, big time.

Calling Jamie hadn’t been in their plans, but Jordan had begged and pleaded for them to call her family. So they’d called Jeff, figuring he’d be the calmer of the twins. Poor Jeff had been stunned to hear what had happened, but he was out of town on a case and couldn’t get back very quickly. He’d offered to call his brothers, Magnus and Morgan, but Kir had talked him out of it, saying Jordan wanted to talk to them herself. He just hoped little brother had listened, or he’d wind up with two pissed-off gods on his doorstep. Dealing with the twin, full-blooded sons of Thor was
not
on his to-do list today, thank you very much.

Apparently Jeff had opted to call little sis instead, who’d decided it was a
good
idea to show up at the ass-crack of dawn.

Wait. Two women, one of them pissed off, together in our condo. Neither one of whom has had caffeine.

He shuddered and did the only sane thing he could. He hid in the kitchen and made coffee.

Kir pulled away from the doorjamb and wiped the tears from his eyes. Little Jamie was still standing there, hands on hips, glaring at him like he’d run over her puppy.

“What?”

He was baffled when she shook her head at him like he was a loon. “How bad is she?” She plopped down on the white chaise, staring at him a little less angrily.

“Hurting.” He winced when she glared at him again. “We’re taking care of her, I promise.”

“You don’t even know her. How can you take care of her?”

He glided over to her, watching her face as she slowly took in his naked chest. The look was assessing and without heat.

The little minx is sizing me up!

“How does Jordan feel about this whole…arrangement?” She waved her hand in the air, her brows still furrowed. “I mean, she’s pretty big on the whole monogamy thing.”

“Tri-ogomy.”

Jamie blinked. “Huh?”

Kir shrugged, and yawned again. It was too fuck-all early in the morning for her to try and get him to make sense. “Three people, all together. Not sure monogamy is the right word.”

“So you two are going to sleep around on her?”