Dana Bell: Eye of the Beholder

“Nope, but she might.”

The two men stared at one another. Jeff looked relaxed, his bare feet propped up on the coffee table, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, but Travis knew better. Even at twenty-five, Jeff was one of the best operatives he had, mostly because people saw a slender, carefree guy with bright red hair and a cheery smile. What they failed to see was the ruthless hunter underneath, a warrior who felt quite capable of taking Travis on if he felt his sister was threatened.

Travis wondered if that attitude would still be there if Jeff knew who he was challenging. When it came to Jamie, he had the feeling that it might.

He could respect that. He’d still have to smack the kid down if he got in the way of Travis taking care of Jamie, but, still.

The younger man stood and stretched, putting the bowl on the coffee table. “I’m not going to wait much longer for you guys to get your collective heads out of your asses, you know.” He looked around the room at the four of them, his intent stare lingering the longest on his older half-sister, Jordan. “You are going to tell me what the fuck is going on with the Old Man and why he turned Jamie into a piñata.

Because if you don’t, I’ll be forced to find out on my own, and something tells me none of you would like that.” He smiled sweetly, reminding Travis of Jamie. “Good night, everyone.” He sauntered off toward the den with an absent wave. “I’m taking the futon, Travis.”

Travis shook his head as he watched Jeff close the door behind him. “Fuck me.”

“No thanks. Logan would kill me.”

Travis closed his eyes against the incipient headache building behind his eyes. “Kir.”

“Sorry.” The blond man sank into the seat Jeff had so recently occupied, picking up the bowl of popcorn with a sigh. “Anyone want—”

“ No. ”

Kir winced as all three of them shouted him down. “Okay, okay. I can see how you’d all be pizza’d out. You don’t have to shout, though.” He put the bowl down, fiddling with it absently. “He’s right.”

Travis found himself staring at Jeff’s closed door. “Yeah. He is. And don’t make the mistake of thinking that was an idle threat, either. If Jeff decides to go after Grimm it’ll get ugly fast.”

“He can’t handle what Grimm will do to him.” Jordan started pacing, a frown on that pretty face of hers. She brushed her hair behind her ear, missing the way both her men’s eyes latched onto her movements. It was obvious even to a blind man that Logan and Kir were hyper-aware of her every move.

Logan sat at Kir’s feet, Kir’s hand drifting into his lover’s hair, playing with it in a way that let Travis know this was a common thing for them.

Logan rested his head against Kir’s knee, his eyes closing wearily. “We have to figure out a way to keep them safe. Grimm isn’t going to stop here. He’s going to want Gungnir back, and he won’t hesitate to harm either Jeff or Jamie to get it.”

“Ixnay on the Ungnir-Gay.” Jordan flapped her hands toward Jeff’s closed door.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Right. Imm-Gray is going to want the glowy toothpick back ASAP. Any ideas, people? Because I’m damn tired of fighting that ass wipe.”

Travis almost joined Jordan in her pacing. “I doubt he knows I’ve already handed it over to Kir. He’ll expect me to hang onto it a little tighter this time.”

“ This time?”

The headache throbbed behind his eyes. “Yeah. This time.” He kept his expression closed, daring Jordan to question him further.

So, of course, she did. “Do tell.” She sat on the floor next to Logan, curling her feet under her and crossing her arms over her chest.

Travis grimaced. “What happened to Ix-nay?”

She sniffed. “Tyr, aka Tiwaz, aka Tio, aka Tyz. The meaning of the name is god. Hence, one of the names of Odin, Hangatyr, or God of the Hanged. How pleasant is that?” She made a face as Logan snorted and Kir hung his head between his hands. “You even have a day named after you. Anyway, some of the myths say you’re Odin’s son, and if that’s true, then ew, if you’re into my sister. Other myths claim you’re one of Odin’s contemporaries. The third myth says you’re older. So, which one is it?”

He stared down at her. “When did you have time for that? You’ve been in the hospital with Jamie every stinking waking moment.” He knew. He’d been there too, guarding her with his life. If Grimm had made one teeny tiny move toward the woman sleeping in the other room Travis would have killed him.

Or at least tried to. They still hadn’t figured out how he’d survived Val’s numerous fatal wounds.

She rolled her eyes. “Remember when Tweedledee and Tweedledum wouldn’t let me out of the condo so all I could do was stuff on the Internet?”

“Because, y’know, it wasn’t like you’d been shot or anything.”

She ignored Kir’s mumble and Logan’s glare. “That’s when I looked all that up. Now please, answer the question.”

“I’m not on trial here.” The headache was full bore now. He’d need to take something soon, then go lie down next to Jamie.

“No, Trav, you’re not. But every little bit you give us could help stop Grimm.” Her expression was pleading. “Please. For Jamie.”

“Dirty pool, Grey.”

“Tait-Saeter. Ow.” Logan rubbed his side where Jordan pinched him.

“That reminds me. You owe me a wedding. Goober.”

“Children, play nice.” Kir smiled wearily at the two. “Or I’ll break out the splintery stick.”

“We’d rather you broke out the other stick.” Logan waggled his tongue at Kir, causing Jordan to fall over with a groan.

“And on that note, I’m going to bed.” Travis turned and ran for Jamie’s bedroom, Jordan’s quiet, “coward” following him into the room.

He closed the door behind him and stared at the woman asleep on the bed. As quietly as possible he removed his clothing, all the way down to his boxers. He lifted her up with his right arm, pulling the comforter and sheets from underneath her before putting her down again. Once she was settled back down he went to the window and examined the protection runes Logan had cast. With a sigh he added his own, overlaying the fiery symbols, integrating his own magic with that of the Jotun’s. He wondered briefly how Logan would react when he saw it, but he was just too damn tired to care.

When he was finished he climbed wearily into bed and pulled the sheets over both of them. Spooning in as closely as he dared, he closed his eyes and willed the headache away. Her scent wrapped around him, soothing him, and before he knew it he’d nodded off.

Grimm stood in his old office, one hand resting on the twin raven statues, and stared at the empty case that had once held Gungnir, the Godspear. “Hugin, Munin, komme fram .”

The stone ravens stirred, pulling apart as feathers erupted from stone bodies. They shook themselves, their beady eyes fixed on his face.

“ Finne Tyr.”

The ravens ghosted through the walls, their flight unhampered by the physical world around them. He ground his teeth, staring at the empty case that had once housed Gungnir, the symbol of Odin’s power and rulership of the Aesir and Vanir. Fuck. If only Travis hadn’t gone all stubborn on him and refused to sell Guardian Investigations, none of this would have happened. Gungnir would still be in his possession, Baldur and Loki would still be on the run and Tyr would still be firmly under his thumb. But Travis had inexplicably resisted him, and now it was going to take some serious strategy on Grimm’s part to put everything back to rights. Rina still didn’t understand why he’d been so insistent on acquiring Travis’s business. Quite frankly, he was tired of explaining it to her. She’d just have to figure it out on her own.