She kissed him on the lips and whispered, “Gotta work.”
“You do know it’s Sunday, right?”
“Ha-ha.” She kissed him again. “Stay as long as you want. I left a towel and toothbrush for you to use. The boys’ bathroom is down the hall to the right.”
“The boys’ bathroom?”
“The one we have just for guys who stay over because those with penises are kind of gross.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She kissed him again, but before he could grab her and pull her back to bed, she was gone.
Yawning and sitting up, Ski realized a shower would be a good idea. He was still sticky from sweat and Jace. A realization that made him smile.
He wrapped the towel she’d left around his waist and walked down the hall to the “boys’ bathroom.” It was blue and had a urinal. But the shower was roomy and they had a ton of products to use that Tyr would be too cheap to ever consider buying.
After a wonderfully hot shower, Ski dried off, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and walked out the door. That’s where he found Vig Rundstöm.
The big Viking leaned back against the wall, cold, narrow eyes glaring at Ski through all that hair.
All Ski wanted to do was give the man a haircut, for no other reason than to let him see properly.
Knowing it would annoy him, Ski didn’t say anything. He just smiled, making sure to show all his teeth.
Those eyes managed to narrow more.
“Here.” Rundstöm held out his hand, big fingers wrapped around what appeared to be clothes.
Ski took them, looked them over. Black sweatpants, black T-shirt.
“Are these for me, Ludvig? How sweet!”
“Kera asked me to loan them to you. For her I make many great sacrifices.”
“Well, I appreciate it.”
“Shut up.”
“Am I the only one who has a problem with what happened?” Kera demanded.
“No,” Erin replied, holding an ice pack over the black and swollen eye and cheek left behind by a Killer female who’d knocked her out cold the night before. “But you’re the only one who cares enough to whine about it.”
They sat at the round glass table out on the back porch, eating breakfast while a work crew took care of scraping their house clean of the previous night’s festivities.
“I’m not whining. I’m expressing in clear, concise tones my feelings on this issue.”
Erin raised an eyebrow to Jace. “Whining.”
Jace hid her smile behind the almond croissant she was eating with two hands. Erin said she looked like a badger eating it.
“Is this something we do?” Kera asked. “Drugging and assaulting men?”
“No one assaulted him.”
“What would you call it?”
“Retribution.” Erin lowered the ice pack but when Jace cringed behind her croissant, she slapped it back against her face. “And we didn’t do it.”
“We didn’t?”
“No. The Alabama and Tri-State crews did it.”
“Which means what? That our hands are clean?”
“That’s exactly what it means. Are you expecting a guest, Jace?”
Jace lowered her treat. “Huh?”
Erin motioned behind her with a chin jerk.
Jace looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Hi, Gundo. I think Ski’s still upstairs.”
“I’m actually here to see you. Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” Jace placed the rest of her croissant on the plate and wiped her hands on her napkin.
“Don’t forget,” Erin reminded her. “We’ve gotta be ready to go in about an hour.”
“No problem.” Jumping out of her chair, Jace went back into the house.
“What’s up?”
Gundo smiled and took her hand, leading her toward the front door.
Erin finally lowered the ice pack, quickly realizing what she actually needed was some aspirin to help get rid of her headache. Although it really galled her she’d only had two drinks the whole night and yet she was in the same shape as her sister-Crows who’d passed out from liquor abuse.
“She’s happy,” she said to Kera. She was hoping to distract her from this ridiculous Josef discussion. Crows fucking with Ravens was as eternal as earthquakes in California.
“She’s not happy,” Kera replied, pouring herself one of her ridiculous giant mugs of coffee. The woman drank so much coffee. “She’s in love.”
Erin leaned back. “In love? After one night?”
“She’s a one-night kind of gal. You and I may be able to sleep with a guy one night then never see them again and never think about them again. But not our Jace. Trust me, she’s in love.”
“But what if he’s not in love?”
“Well—”
“If he’s not in love, too, he may hurt her. We should kill him now. Before he gets the chance.”
Kera threw up her hands. “What is wrong with you?”
Nothing, actually, but it was just so much damn fun to mess with the woman’s head.
“What’s going on?” Jace asked Gundo, letting him drag her through the halls.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise? What kind of surprise? It’s not weird, is it? I hate weird surprises.”
“No, no. Nothing weird. I think you’ll like it.”
Before reaching the front door, Gundo suddenly swerved into the same room where she’d met with the Claw Bystrom and the federal prosecutor, Jennings.
For one moment, Jace was worried she’d have to talk to Jennings again. Nothing had changed except that Jace was sure if Jennings pushed her to testify, her sister-Crows would kill her ex. Something she didn’t care about in a general sense, but she hadn’t been lying to Erin.
Her ex needed to stay alive; she simply didn’t know why yet.
But as they stepped into the room, Jace immediately recognized the petite woman who stood with her back to her, studying the books that lined the wall.
That white and gray bun messily put together at the back of her neck. The loose, flowing royal blue skirt that reached all the way to the floor and beyond. A skirt that petite body was drowning in. The light, off-white sweater with sleeves that nearly covered her hands and a hem that reached her knees. And those bright, white Keds on unbelievably tiny feet peeking out from under that ridiculous skirt.
After all these years, she still didn’t dress for the California weather. Or in the California style. As always, she went out of her way not to fit in. To defiantly remain different even though one could only hear her accent when she was truly angry.
Jace closed her eyes, trying her best to calm her racing heart. To get control of all her jumbled, panicked feelings and—
She heard the sound of that small hand cracking against her face long before she felt the acute pain of it.
Her eyes opened and her grandmother stood before her in all her five-foot glory, blue eyes glaring up at her.
“Two years,” Nëna growled at her. “Two years and you don’t come to see me?”
Gundo, shocked and now a little panicked by what he’d put into motion, attempted to step in but her grandmother snarled, “Get out,” and he left. Without question or a word, closing the door behind him. In about five minutes, Gundo would wonder why he’d done that, but he wouldn’t have a satisfactory answer.
“Well?” her grandmother pushed. “Why? Do you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you at all. I failed you and I couldn’t face the . . . stop slapping me!”
“You’re lucky I don’t sew your mouth shut for such idiotic words.” Arms wrapped around her waist, she began to pace the room. “How could you not come to see me? Instead you send that boy.”
“I didn’t send him, Nëna, and I never would have come to see you.”
“Like a dagger to my heart.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just telling you the truth.”
“
You and your truth.”
Jace took a breath. “Things have changed, Nëna. Two years ago . . . I’m not . . . I . . .”
She couldn’t finish. She couldn’t keep going. How could she tell her grandmother about her Second Life? How could she tell her that truth?
“You are a foolish, foolish girl. Always were.”
The door opened again, and Kera and Erin rushed in. Alessandra and Leigh behind them. No one had called to them. They’d just known that something wasn’t right. They’d sensed it and they’d come to Jace’s aid.
Her grandmother looked at the four women already in the room; more were starting to rouse themselves and follow. Even in their hangover stupor they understood something was wrong in the Bird House.
Kera looked back and forth between Jace and Nëna. “Are you okay, Jace?” she asked.
“I’m fine. Could you guys give us a few minutes?”
Erin shook her head. “No. Why don’t you come with us, sweetie? I’m sure Chloe can straighten this all—”
“Quiet,” Nëna snapped. “You talk too much, demon child.”
Erin opened her mouth to respond but all she could do was gasp. She grasped her throat with both hands, turning to Kera with pure panic in her eyes.
Alessandra spun toward the door. “I’m getting Chloe.” But before she could walk back out, the door slammed shut, closing out the Crows who were coming forward and stopping Alessandra from leaving.
“Nëna,” Jace chastised.
“Did you think I didn’t know, stupid girl? That I don’t know what happened? I knew when he killed you. I knew when he started to bury you. I knew when that Nordic bitch called for you. And I knew you’d accept her offer before you did. Now you owe your life to her. Your soul.”
“It was a choice I made. I wouldn’t unmake it. Not even for you.”
“But you chose,” Nëna reminded her. “And I always told you never choose. But you did. Because you’re stupid!”
“Could you stop insulting me?”
“I could, but I doubt I will because you are stupid like your father!”
“Jace, what’s going on?”
“Kera, this is my grandmother. My father’s mother.”
“Oh.” Confused, Kera shrugged and said, “It’s, uh, very nice to meet you, Mrs.—”
“I know what you are.”
Leigh stepped forward. “What we are is here for your granddaughter. At Giant Strides, we strive to help those who need it. She’s, of course, not an addict, but we are here to help her find a way back from what she went through in that cult. It’s one of our hidden specialties.”
“Really?” Nëna walked across the room until she stood in front of Leigh. “Hidden specialties?”
“Nëna, don’t.”
But, as always, Nëna ignored Jace and slapped her hand against Leigh’s upper chest. Wings shot out from her back, slamming into Alessandra and sending her flying into the wall behind her.
Alessandra cried out, blood pouring from her nose as she slid to the floor. Leigh panted in shock. She’d been a Crow for many years; her wings didn’t accidentally come out.
And they hadn’t accidentally come out this time, either. Nëna had made them come out.
“Nëna, stop!”
“Do you know why I came today? Of all days?” Nëna asked, facing Jace.
“I—”
“It’s not because that man called me. I mean, if you want to play games, I can play games.”
Jace rubbed her forehead. “I wasn’t playing—”
“It’s because she’s coming.”
Leigh pulled her wings back in. “Gullveig, you mean.”
“No. Actually . . . that’s not what I mean.”
Vig arrived at the back porch table but no one was there. “Where did everyone go?” he asked.
“Don’t know.” The Protector held up a pastry. “Danish?”
“Why are you following me?”
“I’m actually not. I’m just hungry and I knew you’d find food. Like an ant sussing out a picnic.”
Vig growled a little, entertaining the thought of twisting the Protector’s freakish head all the way around several times until he could twist it off his body completely. But Stieg and Siggy were suddenly there, behind him. Word from the Crows was that the Protector had spent the night with the woman they secretly called their “baby sister.” Kera had made Vig promise not to beat up Eriksen for defiling Jace, but his brothers hadn’t.
So when they attacked, he didn’t stop them. But sadly, they were too slow and too loud, the drink and fighting from the previous night still dulling their senses.
Vig blinked and the Protector had the Danish in his mouth—although almost completely eaten—Stieg on his knees, and Siggy facedown on the ground. He held Siggy in place with his foot and used his hand to twist Stieg in such a way that any movement would cause the man intense pain and possibly brain damage from loss of air.
Yardley walked out onto the patio but froze, eyes widening at the sight of the four men.
“No, no, no, no!” She waved her hands. “Don’t break each other! I need you guys. Now, what do you think?” she asked, smoothing down the black dress she wore.
“What do we think about what?”
“My dress. It’s for the funeral today.”
Vig glanced at Eriksen and the Protector replied, “It’s . . . it’s a little . . . low cut and short.”
“It’s a Hollywood funeral.”
“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. Do you mean it’s taking place in Hollywood?”
“No, actually it’s taking place in West LA. There’ll be paparazzi, directors, producers, and probably a couple of actors from those comic book movies. I am dying to be a villain in a Stan Lee movie.”
“But it’s a funeral.”
“In this town, a funeral is more a social event than a chance to mourn. So, again, what do you think? Do I look nice?”
Eriksen shrugged. “You look, um . . . very pretty and slightly whorish.”
“Perfect. Just what I was going for.”
“And why do you need us?” Vig asked.
“Well, I need you guys to go to Brianna’s house.” She frowned and waved at Eriksen. “Unleash them, Ski. Now.”
He did, then grabbed another Danish.
“My team is escorting me to the funeral as my security. Tessa and her team are going to Brianna’s office. And I need you guys to go to Brianna’s house.”
“You have other teams,” Vig reminded her.
“Yeah, but we leave in an hour and most of them are still vomiting. Erin said you guys wouldn’t mind.”
“Erin is volunteering us for shit now?” Stieg demanded. He was moving his head back and forth, desperately trying to work out the pain the Protector’s move had probably caused him.
“Can you guys just help me today? Pleeeeeeeease.”
“If you promise to never make that sound again,” the Protector complained. Although Vig had to silently agree.
Yardley clapped her hands together. “Thank you, guys! That means so . . . so . . .” She suddenly looked off. “Something’s wrong.”
Without another word, she headed into the house and they followed.
The front doorbell rang and Jace asked her grandmother, “Who is that?”
“Why do you ask questions when you already know the answers? You must remember how that irritates me.”
Nëna flipped her hand and the study door opened again, and Erin could suddenly speak.
“I do not like that, old woman,” Erin panted out.
Jace patted her friend’s shoulder and pointed her toward Alessandra. Their sister’s nose had been broken from Leigh’s wing, and blood was flowing down her face and soaking her white T-shirt.
Another Crow stepped into the room. “Someone to see you, Jace.”
Jace nodded and waited.
Her grandmother had been right. She’d known who’d be coming through that door, long before she’d even arrived
at the house. Jace had known he would send her as soon as she’d had Rachel force him off the property.
But still. At the sight of her mother, it was like Jace’s heart had stopped in her chest.
Her mother smiled at her, still doing the Great Prophet’s work. “Hello, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.”
It seemed stupid to him. Not getting the Great Prophet’s wife back. The Finder of the Word should be back where she belonged. But this part . . . this seemed ridiculous to him.
“Make sure to get the dog,” the Prophet had told them before they’d left. “It’s a puppy. We can use it to our benefit.”
So while the Finder’s mother was in there, getting her daughter to understand where she belonged, he was out here . . . tracking down a dog.
In a place this big, there could be a bunch of dogs, but he didn’t hear any barking. Or see big piles of dog shit everywhere.
He heard men talking at the back of the house as he eased around the bushes, but then the sounds disappeared inside. So he kept going. The place was pretty quiet except for some cleaning people running around.
But he acted as if he belonged there and they ignored him. They were there to do a job, not keep tabs on pets.
As he cleared around some privacy bushes, he walked into the biggest backyard he’d ever seen. He didn’t know lawns like this existed in LA unless they were owned by movie stars. Apparently the rehab business paid really well.
Impressed but still focusing on the task at hand, he moved out into the yard. He didn’t have to go far, though. The puppy was right there, gnawing on a chew toy. Cute little thing. And an easy grab.
He walked until he stood in front of the puppy. The dog looked up at him with big brown eyes and immediately, its lips pulled back and the little bastard growled at him.
He reached down and grabbed it, wrapping his hand around its muzzle to keep it quiet.
Still not seeing anything, he turned and started toward the side of the house again. But he’d only gone a few feet before he stopped.
At first, he didn’t know why he’d stopped. He just felt that . . . something was wrong.
The Undoing Page 26