“Well, I’m attached now.”
“Oh, God.” Erin turned away to go back to the house.
“Your mother called.”
Erin froze, her eyes closing. “She called me here?”
“Yeah. They tried you on your cell, of course, but it kept going to voice mail.”
“Any idea how she got this number?”
“Guess one of the Crows gave it to her.”
“Uh-huh.” Erin faced him again. “What did you two talk about?”
“She said her and your father would be visiting in about two weeks. They were going to stay at a hotel, but I said they could stay here.”
“Here? With you?”
“With us.”
“We’re an us?”
“As far as your mother’s concerned, we’re practically married.”
“How many times have you talked to her while I was asleep?”
“Just a few times.”
“A few . . .” Erin let out a breath. “Okay.”
“I like her.”
“I don’t care.”
“She says she likes me, too. She says I sound like a very nice boy.”
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Just a little.”
“I should have let the world burn,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Deciding she couldn’t deal without some much needed coffee, Erin went back into the house.
As Erin stared at the coffeemaker, silently willing it to make coffee faster, she heard a tap at the kitchen window. It was Ratatosk sitting on the little ledge.
She pushed open the window. “What do you want?”
It chittered at her and Erin—much to her growing horror—realized she understood him as she’d understood him on Corpse Shore. At the time she’d believed that to be a one-off sort of thing.
Now she knew. She’d understand Ratatosk forever, and he’d enjoy driving her nuts.
“Funerals?” Erin nodded. “Yes. Of course. We’ll be there.”
Ratatosk chittered again.
“Yes, I answered for Stieg, you little shit, because I know he’d go.” Erin gasped at what he said next and was reaching for him when he jumped off the ledge and walked away. He should have moved faster, though. Hilda charged and butted his squirrel ass, sending him screaming a good fifty feet away.
“Good girl!” Stieg called out to his goat.
Knowing that Stieg had sent Hilda to handle Ratatosk . . . well, maybe she didn’t mind so much if her parents stayed here. With Stieg . . . and her. With them.
Oy! Whatever.
She slammed the window and went to get her damn coffee.
* * *
The gods, for once, did something. They provided the longboats that held the Nine Clans’ honorable dead.
While the youngest of the Crows sang a very sad but lovely version of “California Dreaming,” the Clan leaders and Kera, War General, lit the ships on fire with large torches.
The gods stood off to the side in silence, giving their unspoken blessings as the Valkyries pushed the boats out into the water and the Claws took them out to sea where they would burn through the night.
There were no tears. No rage. Just acceptance and the knowledge that they would be seeing their brethren again in Valhalla.
As each Clan passed the Crows, they all stopped a moment and nodded at a surprised and clearly uncomfortable Erin.
Then the gods passed and each, in his or her own turn, did the same.
The Ravens passed by the Crows last and Stieg winked at her, giving her one of his rarely seen smiles before flying off with his brothers.
Her sister-Crows then surrounded Erin, Kera the first to wrap her arms around Erin and hug her close, Jace quickly taking her place, whispering against her ear, “I’m so glad you took a shower.” Erin laughed as Betty kissed the top of her head and Chloe threw one arm around her shoulder and smiled at her with something like pride.
“You, Erin Amsel, are the biggest pain in the ass. And don’t ever change.”
Erin laughed but before she could tell them that wouldn’t be a problem, Brodie jumped up and slathered her tongue across Erin’s face, making her gag in disgust.
“Oh, my God,” Kera snapped, “get over it, bitch. You spent an entire day with funky corpses. I doubt a little dog slobber is that overwhelming for you.”
EPILOGUE
It was an all-Clan party in the heart of Yosemite. Not only were all the Clans there, but so were the shifters who’d fought by their side.
The drink was flowing, the food was good, and everyone seemed to be having a great time. But Erin wasn’t in the middle of it like she usually was. So Stieg “borrowed” Brodie and had her track the Crow for him.
He found her deep in the Yosemite woods, perched on a boulder looking down on the party below.
After patting Brodie on the head and sending her back to the others, he flew up to the top of the boulder and landed beside Erin.
She hadn’t said much since the funerals. He had the feeling she’d been overwhelmed by it all. No one, especially Erin, ever expected her to be revered by the other Clans. But she was and would be until Ragnarok did finally come. She’d risked everything to get that sword and to end Gullveig. And she did it without once thinking about herself or what could happen to her if she failed, because failure had not been an option.
But she hadn’t failed and it was time to realize that and move on. If for no other reason than he knew that just getting rid of Gullveig didn’t mean the end to the work the Clans did. Instead, it probably meant more. A vacuum had been left, and there would always be someone else, whether god or human, who’d desperately want to fill it. It would be up to their Clans to prevent that.
Still, they had tonight and a pretty good party.
“You okay?” he finally asked when she refused to say a word.
“Sure.”
“I think we should take your parents to Disneyland.”
Erin looked at him. “What?”
“When your parents come, we should take them to Disneyland.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s fun. I’ve been there. I had fun.”
“We’re not taking my parents to Disneyland.”
“Fine, but we have to do something with them.”
“I’d suggest Vegas, but I’m worried they’ll gamble all their money away and be forced to move in with me.”
“We have room. If they don’t mind the goats.”
“My mother will mind the goats. And I never said I’d stay with you for good.”
“So you’re leaving?”
“I didn’t say that, either. I mean, Jesus, Engstrom, with every look you give me you’re asking me for commitment and I don’t do commitment. I can’t even commit to the carpool lane when I have four other people in the car and yet you want me to commit to a long-term relationship with you.”
“Is that what’s been bothering you?”
“What did you think?”
“I don’t know. I thought it was the recent reverence of the Clans.”
“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “That won’t last. By next week Freida will be calling me a whore again, I’m sure I’ll pop Lindgren in the mouth for something, and Kera will irritate the living fuck out of everyone with one of her goddamn clipboards.”
She let out a breath. “But you.”
“I get it.”
“You do?”
“Sure. You’re in love with me and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She turned and faced him. “What?”
“But it’s all right.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. I love you, too.”
“Gee,” she replied flatly. “Great.”
Stieg leaned in, pressing his forehead against her temple. “I looooooove you,” he said again, trying to sound like a foghorn.
“Stop,” she said with a laugh.
“L
ove, love, love, love youuuuuuuuu.”
Laughing harder, Erin looked away. “Bastard.”
* * *
Erin didn’t know what she was going to do. She hadn’t expected to survive any of this, much less get a man out of it.
But every time she thought that she was dead where she stood, that her Second Life was over for good, there was Stieg Engstrom. He always had her back and she always had his.
That was something she couldn’t just walk away from. No matter how much the whole idea of being part of a couple terrified the hell out of her.
Going face-to-face with dragons? Eh.
Destroying a goddess? Whatev.
Waking up every morning for the rest of her Second Life to that ridiculously gorgeous, goofy face!
God—or, you know, whoever—help her.
She grabbed his hand. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“To the goddamn party. I haven’t had my two drinks yet and there’s a ton of people down there who sadly do not have a two-drink minimum and are just ripe for the torture. And who knows when I’ll get a chance like this again?”
She pulled him off the boulder and they easily landed, their wings helping them.
Erin started to walk toward the party, but Stieg tugged her back until she was in his arms and he kissed her.
She wished she could say she didn’t kiss him back. She wished she could say that she felt nothing for him. But she loved him. Despite not wanting to, she loved him.
So when he finally pulled away from her, she snarled, “Bastard,” and then led him out of the woods.
When they reached the party, Karen jumped into Stieg’s arms, hugging him tight. Then she hugged Erin.
She definitely didn’t have a two-drink minimum and it seemed that tequila was definitely her thing. But Erin didn’t mind. Karen and her shifter friends had saved their ass. They’d always be welcome at a Crow party from now until the end of time.
They didn’t feel like yelling over the music so they just hugged and Karen went back to dancing.
Erin climbed on Stieg’s back, her legs over his shoulders, her hands buried in his hair. He moved through the dancing crowd, taking the beer Vig shoved in his hand and scratching the head of a happy Jace who was dancing with Ski . . . and her puppy Lev. Because, of course she was.
Brodie flew around them before diving into a gaggle of drunken Crows, and Erin playfully punched Kera in the shoulder. . . which quickly turned into a fistfight but Stieg kept moving.
Then something went weird.
It started with Brodie. She suddenly grabbed Lev out of Jace’s arms and carried the puppy away by the back of the neck. At the same time the shifters stopped moving. Their bodies just froze in mid-grind. And, in seconds, every one of them had shifted into whatever animal they were and began to back up, all of them snarling and snapping.
A few seconds later, the earth rumbled, everything shaking.
“Earthquake!” someone drunkenly called out, laughing. “Hold on, everybody!”
Erin backflipped off Stieg’s shoulders and moved through the crowd until she found the Crows huddled together.
Jace, now standing between Erin and Kera, shook her head. “I don’t think this is an earthquake, guys.”
Erin knew her sister-Crow was right even before the Half Dome, a Yosemite icon, split in half and an explosion of rock and dirt shot out over them.
Everyone ducked and waited. When they could look again, he stood on the left side of the split rock.
And, in the silence that followed, they heard Inka whisper one word.
“Loki.”
Laughing, the god spread his arms wide and Loki’s Clan of wolf shifters tore down the mountains toward them.
Erin pulled out her blades, cracked her neck.
Kera, still in her role of War General, stepped forward. She had her axe at the ready and her wings out.
She looked back at the Nine Clans and, with a roar that would impress any Viking, Kera bellowed, “Kill all of them!”
Don’t miss the next novel by Shelly Laurenston writing as G. A. Aiken
BRING THE HEAT
“G. A. Aiken is hilarious.”—USAToday.com
HE SAYS . . .
I, Aidan the Divine, am . . . well, divine. My name was given to me by the Dragon Queen herself! I’m a delight! Cheerful. Charming. And a mighty warrior who is extremely handsome, with a very large and well-hidden hoard of gold. I am also royal-born, despite the fact that most in my family are horrendous beings who don’t deserve to live. And yet, Branwen the Awful—a low-born, no less—either tells me to shut up or, worse, ignores me completely.
SHE SAYS . . .
I’ll admit, I ignore Aidan the Divine because it annoys him. A lot. But we have so much to do right now, I can’t worry about why he keeps staring at me, or why he always sits so close, or why he keeps looking at me like he’s thinking about kissing me. We have our nations to save and no time for such bloody foolishness . . . no matter how good Aidan looks or how long his spiked tail is. Because if we’re going to win this war before it destroys everything we love, we’ll have to face our enemies together, side by side and without distractions. But if we make it out alive, who knows what the future will hold . . .
“A hot-hot series.”—Library Journal
“This potent story mix is wacky and fun-filled, with plenty of humor and blood-thirsty action.”
—RT Book Reviews on Feel the Burn
“A chest-thumping, mead-hall-rocking, enemy-slaying brawl of a good book.”
—All Things Urban Fantasy on The Dragon Who Loved Me
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Originally from Long Island, New York Times bestselling author SHELLY LAURENSTON has resigned herself to West Coast living, which involves healthy food, mostly sunny days, and lots of guys not wearing shirts when they really should. Shelly is also the New York Times bestselling author G. A. Aiken, creator of the Dragon Kin series.
For more info about Shelly’s books, go to www.shellylaurenston.com. Or to check out G.A.’s dangerously and arrogantly sexy dragons, go to www.gaaiken.com.
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