Of course, he did have some Norwegian in his blood, so maybe the knowledge was inborn. He just didn’t know that he knew . . . or whatever.
Tessa opened Chloe’s door but froze as soon as she took one step into the room.
Her Clan leader was on her bed, sweaty, and bound up in the sheets. Her face appeared strained, and her eyes closed. At first, Tessa assumed that Chloe was having a wet dream and she was about to ease out of the room and knock instead. But then Chloe flipped over and grabbed the pillow with one hand while punching it with the other, Tessa understood her leader was fighting with somebody in her dreams. Somebody she really hated.
Chloe stopped punching the pillow and now grabbed it with both hands so that she could choke the life out of it.
“Chloe!” Tessa said loudly. “Chloe!”
Chloe snapped awake, immediately scrambling across the bed, eyes wide in panic, her breath coming out in short, hard pants.
“Clo, are you okay?”
Chloe looked around the room. “Where is he? Where is he?”
“There’s no one here. You’re alone. You’re fine.”
Chloe wiped her forehead and dropped back against her mattress. “Holy fuck, what a dream.”
“That seemed more like a nightmare.”
“It was.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s just . . .”
“What?”
“It felt like it went on all night.”
Tessa shrugged. “Don’t all dreams feel like that? Even when they’re, like, five minutes long?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Do you want me to come back?”
“No, no. I’m fine.” Chloe pressed her hands against the bed and pushed herself up. She stared at Tessa a moment. “What’s wrong?”
“We have a slight problem.”
Chloe snorted. “The Crows never have a slight problem.”
Yeah. That was very true.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kera woke up and she felt . . . great. Seriously. She felt strong and healthy and there seemed to be no leftover pain from the fight she’d had the day before. She’d been in fights before. Usually caught in the crossfire between Marines and the locals near a base or between Marines and Navy. And usually the day after, it took everything she had just to get up out of bed. Her entire body was often sore and whatever part of her had been hit or kicked was bruised and in serious need of ice and prescription painkillers.
But today . . . today she felt brand new. She stood and used the mirror attached to Vig’s dresser to look at herself. There were still bruises but they were already fading. The lacerations she’d gotten from the window she’d gone through had mostly healed as well, leaving behind a few scabs that she sensed would be gone completely in another day or two.
Happy she didn’t have to physically suffer for her bad decision making from the day before, Kera eased out of the bedroom and tiptoed past a sleeping Vig. He was still on the couch but he wasn’t alone. Brodie was cuddled up next to him. Kera stopped and gawked at her treacherous dog.
Brodie gazed up at Kera, big maw open, tongue hanging out.
“Comfortable?” Kera whispered. Her dog’s response was to snuggle in closer to Vig. “Whore.”
Kera eased past the very loud screen door, carefully closing it behind her so it didn’t bang shut, and sat down Indian-style on the porch. She looked out over the beautiful territory, enjoying the way the rising sun lit up the trees. She could hear the sounds of the Pacific Ocean nearby, and even the sounds of the ravens above her didn’t take away from that. In fact, she kind of liked their deep-throated squawking.
Kera closed her eyes, settled herself in comfortably, and began her deep breathing.
It was kind of funny that she’d learned meditation in the Marines. Most people didn’t really associate the U.S. military with Buddha, but meditation really helped with the anxiety. And some days, especially when the shelling got bad, Kera would have some real anxiety.
She tried for twice a day, twenty minutes each time, but that wasn’t always possible. So she settled for first thing in the morning before she started her workday.
But this time, as much as she tried to focus on her breathing, all Kera could think about was that kiss last night. She didn’t know what had possessed her to kiss him, but she was glad she had. It was one of the sweetest kisses she’d ever experienced. Sweet and hot, which was unusual. Kera had found that it was usually one or the other, rarely both. But with Vig, it was both.
Wonderfully both.
After five minutes of thinking about that kiss and getting kind of wet realizing how far it could have gone if she hadn’t been sore, Kera gave up on her morning ritual and opened her eyes.
“I have to go back,” she said to no one. Kera had never backed down from anything—except her crazy mother—and she wasn’t about to start now.
She went into the house, returned to the bedroom, took off Vig’s T-shirt, which she’d worn to bed, and put her clothes back on. In the living room she patted Vig on the arm to wake him up.
“I’ve gotta go,” she whispered, not wanting to jar him so early in the morning.
“Will I see you later?” he asked.
“If you want.”
“I want.”
Kera smiled. “Okay then.”
She stood up straight and looked down at her dog. “Come on, Brodie. Let’s go.”
Brodie stretched her entire body . . . before settling back against Vig.
“Seriously?” Kera demanded.
“She’s comfortable. Leave her.”
“I’m not leaving her. She just needs to get off her lazy ass.” Kera reached over and tapped Brodie’s butt until, with a sigh, the dog slowly dragged herself off Vig. Not that Kera blamed her. He did look very comfortable, even on that too-small couch.
“I can drive you back,” Vig offered.
“I’d rather walk.” She started to leave, but stopped, and leaned down to kiss Vig’s forehead. “Thanks.”
He smiled, even as he was already falling back asleep. “Anytime.”
Kera walked onto the porch, waited for Brodie to take her sweet time, and then gently closed the screen door.
After leashing Brodie up, they set off.
Usually, Kera had to keep a tight grip on Brodie’s leash, ensuring she never got too far ahead. Brodie was a “barreler,” as Kera liked to call it. Barreling forward like the powerful pit bull she was. But for once, Brodie walked right by Kera’s side, keeping pace with Kera’s steps.
They cut out of Raven territory and down to PCH. They walked past tourists and surfers and locals. Kera was going to keep going straight until she reached the dirt road that led to the Bird House, but Brodie suddenly veered off behind a fish restaurant.
The dog moved toward a clump of trees and Kera assumed this was just another way to the house that Brodie had learned from her walks the day before.
But as Kera came around the corner of the local coffee house, she and Brodie walked right into Erin Amsel.
The two women froze and stared at each other, Amsel’s large cup of coffee hovering near her mouth.
Kera braced herself for the woman to toss that coffee in her face. She wouldn’t put it past her.
Slowly, watching her very closely, Amsel lowered her coffee. After a full minute of mutual staring, Amsel suddenly did something Kera never ever expected.
“I’m sorry.”
Kera blinked. “What?”
“I’m sorry. About yesterday.” She glanced down at Brodie. “And I’m sorry about what I said about Brodie. I’m sorry about all of it . . . and I hope we can start over.”
Kera’s eyes narrowed and she studied the woman closely. Really closely.
Then, after a deep, cleansing breath, she said . . .
“Yeah. Okay.”
Erin wasn’t sure she’d heard Watson right. Was this a setup? Was she planning to stab Erin in the back when she turned away?
/> “Okay?”
“Yeah. And I’m sorry, too. About all of it. So we start again.” Watson switched Brodie’s leash from her right hand to her left and stuck her right hand out. Erin gawked at it a moment before she finally grasped and shook it.
And like that . . . it was all over. No begging. No self-flagellation. No purchases to “make up for everything.”
Then again, maybe Erin should have known. Kera Watson was, as she was quick to tell anyone who’d listen, a former Marine. She probably got into it with people all the time, but with all the shit they had going on around them in war-torn countries, there probably wasn’t room for holding grudges. Not when you needed someone to cover your ass. So she’d let it go. And now, so had Erin.
“Do you need a lift back to the house?” Erin asked. “I’m parked right here.”
“Sure.”
They walked over to the Mercedes and Kera nodded. “Nice car.”
“It’s yours if you need it.”
“You don’t need to lend me your car.”
“It’s not my car. It’s the Crows’ car.” She grinned. “Get in. I’ll show you.”
They drove up to the house and then past it, going far to the left on a dirt road that Kera assumed was a hiking path. Finally, they arrived at a large garage.
“We keep all the Crow cars here,” Erin explained as she parked the car and turned off the ignition. “You can use any car in here whenever you want. The keys are kept in the kitchen. If you want your own car, and some of us do, there’s a separate garage you can use about half a mile that way.” Amsel kind of flung her arm in the general direction of the second garage.
Kera stepped out of the car and, with Brodie next to her, gaped at the contents with her mouth open and her eyes wide.
She couldn’t believe all the cars the Crows had in there. Clearly these women had a bit of a car fetish.
There were a few standard-issue cars, like Fords and Chevys. Four-doors that reminded her of cop cars. Those were the dented ones. Someone definitely used these vehicles for violent purposes. There were also several Jeeps and Range Rovers in varying colors. Plus quite a few Mercedes-Benz, Lexus, and BMWs. Some were cars, others were SUVs.
They also had a couple of Bentleys, Ferraris, and a making-her-twitch Aston Martin convertible.
“I can drive any of these?” she asked.
“Yes, including the Aston Martin, since that’s the one I see you drooling over.”
“It’s an Aston Martin, of course, I’m drooling over it.”
Erin chuckled. “We also have a couple of Lamborghinis, but good luck getting your mitts on those. When you can fly at night, it’s really hard not to need some serious speed in your vehicle during the day, and the other Crows are always fighting over them.”
“I bet.”
“There’s also a couple of motorcycles in the back. Two Harley-Davidsons—the older Crows love those—and about six sports bikes. If you’re interested.
“Hey,” she asked, turning to Kera. “Have you gotten your stuff from your old place yet?”
“Oh my God. I forgot all about that. No, I haven’t. Most of it I can get rid of. The furniture and stuff, but I can’t just leave it there for Mrs. Vallejandro to deal with. She’s the building manager.”
“Why don’t we go over there now and get that sorted so you can make this place your home.”
“Okay.”
“We can also grab an early lunch or whatever. And you can ask me any questions you may have. About everything.”
“Vig’s been filling me in.”
Erin smirked. “I just bet he has.”
“Hey,” Annalisa greeted as she and Leigh walked toward them.
“I thought you had a court case this morning,” Erin said.
“It’s delayed and I was going to hang out here, but—”
“We found some private eye spying on us from the trees,” Leigh finished.
Erin closed her eyes. “Shit.”
“Yeah. Chloe’s not happy.”
“Is he alive?”
“Barely. The birds attacked his ass, knocked him out of the tree. He landed on his face. Paula’s trying to trace who he’s working for. Until then, we figured we’d get out of here while Chloe was stomping around, being pissed off at the world.”
“Do you think he was trying to find out what you guys are?” Kera asked.
“We don’t know what he wanted. But if anybody can find out, it’s Paula.”
“Why?”
“She still has Russian mob connections in Chicago.”
“Yeah,” Annalisa said. “She’s only here because the Colombians killed her while she was on vacation in L.A.”
Kera really didn’t know why she continued to ask questions when the answers continued to freak her the fuck out.
“So what are you guys up to?” Leigh asked.
“Taking Kera out for lunch and to pick up her stuff from her old place.”
“Ahhh. The final good-bye to her first life. That’s always telling.”
“Stop trying to read me,” Kera told Annalisa. “It’s irritating.”
“You guys wanna come? We can get it done quicker with more hands.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Annalisa dug into the front pocket of her white jeans. “I have SUV keys.”
“Perfect.”
“Let’s check to make sure that the back is cleaned out before we go.” Annalisa walked toward an extremely large, black SUV. She remotely opened the back door and as it lifted, Kera frowned at the sight of a woman sitting back there. Reading a book.
“Hey, Jace,” Annalisa said. “What are you doing?”
In reply, the woman lifted the big book she was reading. Tolstoy.
Good Lord.
“Oh. Okay. Well, this is Kera Watson. The new girl. Kera, this is Jacinda Berisha. We call her Jace. She’s on our strike team, so you two will be working together.”
“All right,” Kera said, although she had no idea why none of these women were questioning why a woman was sitting in the back of an SUV when there was a house with many rooms she could be using instead.
“Jace, we’re taking Kera to her old place to get her stuff. Okay?”
Jace nodded and Annalisa closed the back door.
“So, you guys ready?”
“Wait.” Kera looked at the three women. “We’re not going to discuss that you have a woman sitting in the back of an SUV, not going anywhere . . . in this heat?”
“What’s there to discuss?” Erin asked.
“The fact that she was in there?”
“Jace is a loner, so you’ll find her in all sorts of weird places throughout the house.”
Leigh nodded. “Cabinets, closets, under the couch . . .”
“And none of you find that odd?”
Erin shrugged. “As compared to what?”
She did have a point. But still . . .
“If she likes to be alone, why doesn’t she get her own place?”
“Because renting a place would require her to talk to people. She’s not big on talking. I think she’s said, like, three sentences to me and she’s been in for about two years.”
“O . . . kay.”
“Don’t worry. She’s fine. Let’s go.”
Deciding not to belabor this weirdness, Kera headed to the front passenger door. “I also need a new phone.”
“What happened to the last one?”
“The guy who killed me destroyed it.”
The Crows laughed and Leigh said, “Oh good. You do have a sense of humor.”
Except that Kera hadn’t been kidding.
“Brodie!” someone called out and Kera turned to see three women dressed in remarkably tight sweats jog over.
“Hey, Brodie,” one of them greeted the dog, crouching down to pet her. “Want to come running with us? Would you like that, pretty girl?”
Brodie responded by licking this new person’s face.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” The woman stood and to
ok the leash out of Kera’s hand.
“Uh . . . excuse me?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of her.”
“I don’t even know who you are.”
“I’m your sister-Crow. That’s all you need to know.”
Kera watched the three women jog off with her dog.
“Okay?” Erin prompted. “You ready to go?”
“A stranger just ran off with my dog.”
“She’s not a stranger. She’s your friendly, neighborhood insurance agent.”
Kera paused. “Is that where I know her from?”
“Yeah. She’s on all those TV commercials for car and home insurance. She wears an eye patch and has that bird on her shoulder. And incredibly large breasts.”
“She represents the lady pirate logo the company uses,” Annalisa explained, remotely opening the SUV doors so everyone could get in before handing the keys over to Erin. “Because that’s what you want when it comes to your insurance. Pirates.”
“Hot lady pirate,” Erin tossed in. “Because the lady pirate has to be hot if she’s going to sell you insurance.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was nearly two by the time they arrived at Kera’s apartment. They’d stopped at an electronics store to get Kera a new cell phone and then had lunch.
Kera had managed to get Vig’s cell phone number and she’d texted him her new one . . . in case he wanted to call her. Or whatever.
You know . . . no pressure.
So far, he’d sent one text.
Where you at?
Kera texted back that they were going to her apartment to get her stuff and she hadn’t heard anything since.
It was weird, but she tried not to think about it. Vig had never been a chatty man, from what she could tell. So she couldn’t expect him to suddenly change now that they’d kissed.
Right? She couldn’t expect that?
God, what was happening to her?
Erin parked the car and Leigh finished with, “And that’s how I died!”
Kera nodded, her lips pursed. “Fascinating.”
Leigh and Annalisa got out of the car and Kera looked at Erin.
“Get used to it,” the redhead told her. “Every time you meet a new Crow, whether from the States, Japan, Egypt, wherever, they’re going to tell you how they died.”
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