No one but Kir.

He saw the look on Kir's face, knew Kir felt the same damn way. That overprotective streak of Kir's was now fully engaged at the sight of the woman they'd claimed bleeding on the sidewalk. Kir was beyond furious as he cradled her to him, wincing in sympathy as she hissed.

An enraged Kir was a scary thing.

Kir stood, growling as Jordan gasped in pain, and ran for the car. He put her in the backseat, cursing the

tiny sports car, while Logan dug in Kir's pocket for his keys.

"Jefferson's closest.” Kir's voice had deepened. The pupils of his eyes turned white, storm clouds beginning to edge out the sunny blue. Logan reached into the glove compartment and handed Kir his mirrored shades, hiding his inhuman eyes from sight, then pulled on his own shades. Thunder sounded as grey clouds rapidly began to roll in over the city.

"Right.” He waited long enough for Kir to close the passenger side door before taking off like a bat out of hell for Jefferson University Hospital.

They pulled up outside the emergency room entrance just as the rain started. Kir ran inside and managed to get a gurney for Jordan. It had taken a slight shift in the paperwork to get her seen first, but at this point he'd have been willing to blow on trumpets until she got taken care of, let alone a measly flexing of his powers. She was taken in, immediately assessed and moved straight into a curtained-off area, where a physician began prepping her for surgery.

"Excuse me; is either of you gentlemen related to the victim?"

Logan took his gaze off the curtains where Jordan was being prepped to look down at the nurse standing next to him. Her grey-streaked, no-nonsense bun was twisted, her brown eyes sympathetic as she clutched a clipboard to her chest.

"She's my wife."

He felt Kir start as the words slipped out of his mouth. He flexed his powers again to adjust all of Jordan's paperwork from Grey to Saeter . It wasn't enough to change her insurance and license; he'd changed all of her legal paperwork. The larger change took less energy and concentration. While he was at it he filed a marriage license with the state, just because ... well, because. It soothed the beast inside him that needed to claim her firmly as his.

For a prankster god, it was a piece of cake.

The woman looked relieved. “I need you to sign the surgical release forms, please."

He signed everything she shoved at him, determined to see to it that his woman got the care she needed.

He looked over at Kir, who was staring at the curtained off area, a fierce frown covering his face. The thunder was louder now; the rain was coming down harder. The street was almost invisible out the window of the surgical waiting room.

Make that our woman. Lightning arced across the sky, confirming his thought.

He stood there, clenching and unclenching his hands as he heard the doctor give the order to have Jordan wheeled to surgery. He was having a hard time controlling the raging fires within him. Someone, some stranger , was going to be cutting into her flesh, removing a bullet meant for him, and it was driving him crazy. The knowledge that he could have lost someone else he loved burned like acid in his gut.

Memory flashed behind his eyes of his sons, Nari and Narfi, one dead by the other's hand. Nari lost to madness for all time as he killed his brother; Narfi's entrails enchanted to hold down a god and used to bind Loki to the mountain.

Strong arms wrapped around him and held tight while inside he raged against the memories, both past

and present.

"How come she gets to be your wife?” Kir grumbled.

Logan felt some of his anger drain away as Kir stroked his back.

"She could be my wife, you know.” He felt Kir grin briefly against his neck, but it didn't fool him. Kir was shaking. The urge to soothe his lover began to overtake the rage and pain inside him. “After all, she likes me better."

Kir sounded like a petulant child, but Logan knew the truth. Blondie was just as upset, and just as furious, as he was. Logan snorted. Shaking his head, he wrapped his arms around Kir, and settled down to wait for the doctors to return.

Jordan woke to nausea and confusion. She blinked, looking up at the bright white light overhead. “Don't go into the light,” she muttered, surprised when someone snorted next to her. Logan. Her brain immediately identified the sound, like she'd heard it hundreds of times before. Of course, I have damn near heard it a hundred times before.

She turned her head, surprised at how difficult it was. Her stomach rolled with nausea. She swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to hurl all over Logan's expensive leather jacket. He looked pissed as all hell.

“Where's Kir?"

"Right here.” She felt someone take hold of her hand. “Told you she likes me better.” Soft lips brushed her forehead. She turned to see Kir smiling down at her, concern shadowing his eyes. “Hi."

"Hi."

Another pair of soft lips brushed her forehead. “Welcome back."

She looked up into Logan's face, surprised at his fierce expression. “Thanks. Where'd I go?"

"You got shot.” She felt his hand tremble in hers, and tried to squeeze it, surprised at both the emotion flooding his face and how hard it was to get her hand to work. “Don't you ever put yourself between me and a bullet again, you hear me?"

She closed her eyes wearily and licked her lips. “Yup. Next time, let your ass get shot. Got it."

"Jordan."

Her eyes opened to see Logan frowning down at her.

"Shh. Not now, Logan.” The two men exchanged a look over her head. She would have tried to figure out what it meant, but she was so damn tired. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. We'll be back soon to take you home.” Before she could process the fact that Kir had called her sweetheart, he gave her the sweetest kiss she'd ever received.

"He's right. Get some rest.” Logan's mouth replaced Kir's. His kiss was full of carefully banked fire.

“We'll be back in about an hour."

She had a hard time keeping her eyes open after the two men left her room, talking quietly as the door

shut behind them. What the hell was that all about? She drifted off to sleep, wondering what it would be like to have the two of them really kissing her.

"What do you mean, you missed?"

Val winced at the hissed words as his father turned to face him. “I hit Jordan."

"What the fuck was Jordan doing there?"

"I believe they may have hired her."

Grimm's mouth tightened. Val made sure to keep all expression from his face as Grimm glared at him.

“So what stopped you from finishing the job?"

Val blinked. “I shot Jordan."

"And?"

Val didn't answer, knowing there was no point.

"If Jordan is helping them, you need to remove her, as well. No excuses. "

He bowed his head to his father, hoping the man didn't see the hatred in his eyes. The reason for his birth, the vengeance against his brother's murderer and the punishment of the man who'd masterminded it, had instead become service to the betrayer and an unending hunt for the betrayed.

And it was seriously beginning to piss him off, especially now that the end was so tantalizingly near. But the end had been near before, and Grimm had managed to stave it off.

He kept his expression blank as he left the office, knowing that his time was running out. If Jordan was working with Loki and Baldur, Tyr would soon find out. And Grimm would no longer accept mistakes.

How did the idiot miss again?