Page 49 of Grave Curse

Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s a family legend dealing with first-born sons or whatever. It’s stupid.”

I leaned forward, my half-eaten burger forgotten. “Tyr mentioned before that he thought we were cursed, so lay it on me, Poke. I want to know.”

“It’s stupid,” he said again, quickly cleaning both the pie plate holding the pilfered fries and the second plate of pumpkin pie. Like all Colgraves, his metabolism had to be god-tier. “Our grandfather, Titan Colgrave, was in Europe—drafted during the Cold War and hating every second of it. One night, he got drunk at some local tavern, got in a fight, and broke up the joint because, well, that’s what Colgraves do.”

“This is my not-surprised face,” I couldn’t help but drawl.

His grin was wicked. “What can I say, we are who we are. Anyway, this pissed off some rando villager Titan thought looked like a Gypsy. She yelled at him in a language he didn’t understand—because Europe, obvi—and Grandpa Titan chose to believe it was a curse, instead of the European version of ‘get outta here, you goddamn drunk,’ which is much more likely. Like I said, stupid.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or stare, so I did both. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. You gonna eat that?”

I looked down at my half-eaten burger and pushed the whole thing in front of him. “What did Titan’s vivid imagination decide the curse was about?”

Loki made a sound of appreciation after biting into the messy burger. “Something about first-born sons losing everything they love before they die miserable, lonely deaths by scabies, or whatever. Titan seemed to have an irrational fear of scabies. I don’t even know what the fuck they are.”

“You must have an iron stomach,” I remarked as I watched him devour the burger, shaking my head in wonder. “You’re able to talk about scabies while eating literally everything in sight.” But then, that was Loki. Nice to see some things never changed. “And as for the Colgraves being cursed, that kind of stuff only works if you believe in it. You know, making it a self-fulfilling prophecy, or whatever. Tyr’s too smart for that.”

“You’d think so, since he’s always been the down-to-earth, pragmatic one. But I remember when our dad told us the story about the curse, Tyr announced he’d never love anything, so the curse would end with him. That’s why I said what I said—maybe it’s all that stupid curse shit that has Tyr all fucked up.”

Tyr announced he’d never love anything.

The words seemed to echo in my head until they filled me with such a sense of loneliness it was a major task not to sit thereand bawl my eyes out. I shook my head again, trying to snap out of it. “Well, I for one don’t believe in curses.”

“Good for you.”

“I do believe in making sense of what’s happening between Tyr and me, and that’s my sticking point. Until last night, I never would have imagined us being… you know, together.”

“What happened last night?”

“He broke into my apartment, tied me to the dining room table and fucked me like I’ve never been fucked. Oh, and he ate my dinner, too. Must be another Colgrave thing—eating other people’s food.”

Loki’s cheeks bulged with the final bite of burger as he froze, staring at me. He looked like the badass-biker version of a chipmunk. “What the fuck.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. I’ll tell Alice.”

It took him a couple seconds for him to swallow. “So… okay, you need to help me figure this out. I don’t get how you’re not crystal clear on his motives. I don’t think my brother could be any fucking clearer than that.”

“What if… what if it’s like you said—that Tyr knows how both the Chicago Gravediggers and his own chapter of the Gravediggers look at us as a so-called power couple? Hades is notoriously unstable, whereas Tyr is the opposite of that. With me officially by Tyr’s side, we would present a rock-solid, stable platform that represents the future of MCs in all of Chicagoland. On the other hand, Hades, old and alone, with no heirs and fucking insane, is shown to be a relic of the past. If you’re trying to win a war, weakening your enemy by any means necessary—while strengthening your position—is the way to do it.”

“So you’re thinking Tyr decided to bang you because of the war between him and Uncle H?”

“Yeah. I mean, the timing of it all… Doesn’t that make sense?”

“Holy fuck, no, it doesn’t,” he shot back, staring at me incredulously. “Sure, bikers like to have stability in their club, and their leadership. But we’re not talking about some Old World monarchy that’s strengthened by arranged marriages, Ginger. We’re talking about badass bikers who don’t give two shits about who Tyr decides to make his ol’ lady.”

“Then why is Tyr doing thisnow? How can I believe this isn’t somehow tied to winning the war against Hades?”

Loki blew out a breath, pushed all the empty plates to one side, and leaned across the table. “Look, I don’t know why Tyr’s chosen now to make a move on you, okay? I only know you mean one helluva lot to him. In fact, I think you’re the most important person in his life.”

I snorted. “Never in a million years.”

“Yeah, well, when I tattoo a woman’s face on a guy’s ass, it usually means he loves her.”

“WHAT?”

The diner’s volume decreased dramatically at my screech. Loki sent a bland look around the room before reaching for his glass of water. “Way to keep it cool, weirdo.”

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