The Undoing (17 page)

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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

BOOK: The Undoing
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In reply, Brodie barked at Chloe and she winced. “What is on that dog's face?”
“Jelly doughnut residue. And perhaps a little of Stieg's blood.”
Chloe sighed and turned away when a sister-Crow called for her from the house.
“What is it?” Chloe yelled back. Because gods forbid she should go inside and find out herself.
“Phone!”
With a nod, Chloe walked off, pushing past the Ravens, including poor Stieg, who now held a bag of frozen peas against the back of his head.
“Dog,” he said, pointing with his free hand at Brodie.
“You had a plate of jelly doughnuts,” Chloe told him as she passed. “What did you expect?”
Vig crouched in front of Brodie with a towel and wiped off the dog's snout. When he was done, Brodie put her paws on his shoulder and licked his face. She'd grown to love Kera's Viking, which was good. Kera and Brodie were a locked deal. One would go nowhere without the other.
Well, in big picture, existential terms, of course they wouldn't go anywhere without each other. But when it came to walks and car rides with other Crows, Brodie was always up for that and often deserted Kera for a few hours away from the house. Kera still wasn't used to it, but she was complaining less.
She still called the dog a “whore,” though.
Once Brodie finished licking Vig's face, he stood and grabbed Kera around the waist and pulled her in.
Laughing, Kera tried to push him away. “You're covered in dog! Do you know what she was just licking ten minutes ago? And it wasn't a jelly doughnut!”
Behind Kera, Vig, and the other Ravens, Jace could see Erin. The redhead motioned to Jace with a jerk of her head and, placing Lev on the ground, she followed Erin as she stepped farther into the yard and away from the house.
“I'm about to get Kera out of here so the rest of the girls can set the place up for tonight.”
“Okay.”
“You should come with me.”
They stopped as they neared the end of the house. “I thought you needed me to help out here, too.”
“I did. But Rachel's looking for you.”
“Oh fuck! Come on!”
“Don't sweat it. She just thinks she's being helpful. Come with me—we'll take the dogs to get groomed or whatever. Maybe get some lunch, and be out for a few hours. Tessa will talk to Chloe about getting Rachel to back off. By tonight she'll be so over it all.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Erin started to walk off, but then she stopped and suddenly grabbed Jace by the shoulders, pushing her away.
“Go!” she whispered.
Knowing that Rachel was heading her way, Jace quickly walked to the end of the house. She'd cut around and meet Kera and Erin out front. But she heard Lev's bark and knew that she had to grab him since part of Erin's plan required getting poor Kera out of the house with a lie about dog grooming.
Jace stopped and faced Lev, but her dog was looking past her, barking. And the crows in the trees were angrily squawking. Then a hand fell on her shoulder.
Without thought, she spun around and punched.
She thought she was hitting Rachel. Again.
It wasn't Rachel.
 
Davis Henry Braddock barely had time to catch his head preacher as the man fell back, his hands around his throat. He was trying to breathe.
Davis looked down and realized that his parishoner's Adam's apple had been shoved back into his neck several inches.
By the woman who was Davis's wife.
Shocked blue eyes peered at him. He'd been planning to have John just grab Jacinda so they could get her out of this place and back where she belonged. By his side. The wife of the Great Prophet. But her reaction had been swift and decidedly brutal.
She took a step toward him, but someone called out her name. A few seconds later, two other women came around some large hedges. One was a short redhead. The other was a giant. An oversized female with muscles on top of muscles.
For a moment, he thought his wife was going to call for help. She didn't. Instead, she slapped her hand around Davis's mouth and yanked him off to the side of the house.
The other women quickly followed, dragging his still struggling-to-breathe second in command behind them.
“What's going on?” the redhead asked.
His wife slammed Davis against the house and held him there with one hand. “This is him.”
“Oh fuck,” the mammoth muttered.
“I can't believe you came here,” his wife said. “I can't . . .”
She stopped speaking, head dropping, body beginning to shake.
The two women seemed terrified.
He thought they feared him. Why wouldn't they? He was God's chosen son.
Then his wife lifted her head and eyes red as blood bored into him. Muscles pulsated under vibrating skin. And her once-pretty face, now covered in fading scars, contorted into a mask of pure evil.
She wrapped her hands around his throat, words coming out of her mouth he didn't understand.
Her hands tightened and he gripped her wrists, trying to pull her off. But her strength . . .
She leaned in close, her harsh breath pelting him as she continued to viciously whisper to him in some devil's tongue.
The redhead suddenly appeared, her hands raised like she was dealing with a wild animal. Afraid to spook it into a horrifying mauling.
“Listen to me, sweetie. I need you to listen. You do anything to him that gets everyone's attention and Kera will know. She'll know and the party will be over. Because you know her concern will be to protect you. That's all she'll care about. So I need you to let him go. I need you to walk away. Can you hear me, Jace? Walk away.”
His wife's body shook more. Hands gripped his throat even tighter. She closed her eyes, lowered her head. He realized that her feet were on either side of his hips. She was off the ground using just her hold on his neck, her feet pressed against the house.
When his wife lifted her head and opened her eyes, they were blue again. Her face no longer contorted into something. . . unholy.
But she was struggling to maintain control. Her body still tense and her hands still around his throat. Her feet still against the wall.
She jerked forward, and he instinctively slammed back, his head colliding with the wall behind him.
“Come here again . . . bother me again . . . and there will be nothing to protect you
from me
.”
Her voice ended on a growl and the red began to come back to her eyes. Again she lowered her head. Again she fought it. Finally, she released him, jumping down. She was still panting and she started to speak in that devil's tongue again to the redhead.
“English, sweetie. I know a little Yiddish and that's about it. So you need to hit me with English.”
His wife swallowed, slowed her breathing. “Get him and his friend out of here, Rachel. Don't let Kera or the others see. Can you do that for me?”
The mammoth nodded. “I got him. You go.”
Taking slow, deep breaths, she patted the big woman on the shoulders and walked off. Someone called for her inside the house and she picked up her step. The redhead went right behind her.
Then the mammoth yanked Davis by the hair until he was in front of her and twisted his arm around until she held it against his back. The pain cut through him, and he gritted his teeth.
She whistled and another oversized female ran toward them.
“What the hell?”
“I'll explain later. Get the other one.”
The new female grabbed John and lifted him with her bare hands.
These women . . . they were too strong. It was unnatural. They were unnatural.
And they'd infected his wife with their unholiness.
They forced him around to the front of the house, but yanked him back when his wife, the redhead, some black girl, and some Asian female came out the front door and headed to an SUV.
“Where are we going?” the redhead asked, her arm around his wife.
“I'll tell you when we get there.”
“Do we really have to go?”
“No,” the Asian female replied. “But I want you to go. Because they like Jace. So she'll soothe. They hate you. So you'll irritate.”
“Why am I going?” the black girl asked.
“Just get in the fucking car. You ask too many damn questions.”
The women holding him waited until the SUV drove off. Then they quickly pushed him to the van he had waiting to carry him and his wife out of here.
His people opened the side door and the woman holding him threw him at Ezekiel. That wasn't the name he'd been given at birth, but the name Davis had blessed him with.
They crashed into the van and the other woman handed John in. He was no longer moving. Not even struggling.
“You better get him to the hospital,” the mammoth said. “And don't come back here. We'll kill you all if you come back here.”
Then she used those frighteningly large arms, and slammed the door closed in his face.
As they pulled away from the house, he stared out the small back windows of the van. They'd tossed him away. Like trash.
Those . . . females had treated him like some common person. Like they were better than he. Like they were stronger and more important than he was.
“He's not breathing, Brother Davis.”
Davis looked over at Ezekiel. For a moment, he didn't recognize him. He didn't recognize anything or anyone except his outraged hatred.
This was his wife's fault. She'd caused this by being weak and letting that evil into their lives.
She'd have to be cleansed.
But for now . . .
“Get me a knife and a straw.”
“A tracheotomy? Here? Now?”
“We can't go to the hospital,” he said calmly, barely thinking about John. “Get me what I need. We'll do what we can.”
First John. Then he'd figure out how to bring his wife to heel and back to his side where she belonged.
For eternity . . .
C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN
J
ace stared up at the gothic-style building in the middle of downtown Los Angeles.
“Why are we here?” Kera asked, sounding panicked.
“Because they asked me to come.”
“Nuns?” Kera turned away from the St. Mary Magdalene Convent of All Saints and faced their leader. “Nuns asked for you to come here? Nuns?”
“Why do you keep saying that over and over with that tone? Yes.
Nuns
asked me to come here.”
“Why?”
Chloe patted Kera's face. “So much for the new girl to learn.”
“Why are you still calling me that?”
“Until tonight, until the rites, you'll be the new girl.”
Kera glanced at Erin. “What rites?”
“You haven't told her yet?” Chloe asked.
“I thought it was just a party.”
“Well . . .” Chloe shrugged. “There will be punch. And some beer. You like beer, right? And Cheez Whiz!”
“Again with the Cheez Whiz?”
Laughing, because she enjoyed emotionally torturing others as much as she enjoyed the royalty checks from her historical fiction books, Chloe headed toward the convent.
Kera pointed a finger at Erin and snarled out between clenched teeth, “There better not be fuckin' Cheez Whiz at my party. Understand me?”
“All right. But you don't know what you're missing out on.”
“I was in the military. I know
exactly
what I'm missing out on.”
She stomped after Chloe, and Erin began to follow, but Jace caught her arm.
“You stopped me,” Jace said, her mind still scrambled from all that had happened in the last hour.
“I did.”
Focusing on the ground, Jace said, “Thank you.”
Gentle fingers gripped Jace's chin and lifted her head until she was forced to look Erin in the eyes.
“You didn't do anything wrong, Jace. Not a damn thing.”
“I knew he'd come. I knew it. And I was going to be very calm and rational. I wasn't going to let him get to me.” Jace could feel tears beginning to well. She fought her desire to cry. This wasn't the time.
“But now I've shown him weakness. I've shown him a way back in. Even if it is just to irritate the living fuck out of me until I snap.”
“Narcissists do like any attention. Even bad attention.”
“I've just handed him power.”
“Let me kill him for you, Jace. He'll just disappear and you'll never have to worry about him again. It's not like I have any moral center to stop me.”
“Don't even try that bullshit with me,” Jace snapped, yanking her face away, residual anger still moving through her veins. “You have a very high moral center no matter what lies you tell everybody else. But don't fucking lie to me!”
“Okay, okay!” Erin laughed, hands up to placate. “I'm a very moral person. Except when I'm fucking with Kera.”
Jace let out a breath. She refused to let her anger gain control. Even though it was always waiting. Waiting to snap. “Besides. . .”
“Besides what?”
“I don't think it's a task for us.”
“What does that mean?”
“When I touched him, I . . .”
“You . . . what?”
“I don't know. Just leave him alone. Promise me.”
“Jace—”

Promise me
,” she spit out between clenched teeth.

Fine
. No need to get homicidal.”
“Are you ladies coming?” Chloe loudly asked from the steps of the convent. “Or do you bitches need a special invitation?”
Erin smirked. “I love how Chloe yells curses from the convent steps every time she comes here.”
Jace shook her head. “It's just so embarrassing.”
 
Alessandra didn't have a lot of time to get the party set up. Everything would be out back and, when Erin returned, she would be the one to get Kera downstairs for the “rituals” before the former Marine could see anything.
A lot of work just to fuck with the new girl, but even Alessandra had to admit . . . she was having a blast!
Snatching the front door open, she glared at the caterer standing there. “You're late,” she accused.
“Do you want the food or not, freak?”
This was the problem with working with these people. Shifters, they called themselves. They could literally change from human to some predatory animal with no more than a thought.
But they weren't the freaks, according to them. Instead, they were genetic gifts from God.
The
Crows
, however, were freaks because they weren't born with wings, talons, and enhanced skills, but they had to die and be brought back that way. That slight change in the “natural order of things,” as they called it, seemed to offend their shifter sensibilities.
Interesting, since the woman standing in front of Alessandra was six-nine with brown and gold hair and could change her entire body into a grizzly bear. She also smelled of honey. Like she'd bathed in it or used it as a perfume.
Yet Alessandra and her girls were the freaks.
“Get in, set up . . . be
nice.

The She-bear stepped into her, over her, glowering down into Alessandra's face. “Or what?”
“Or I destroy your goddamn business in this town. And trust me, sweetie, I'm the one who can do it.” Alessandra moved back so the bear and her team could come in. “Now get your big, fat ass out there, and get to work.”
Growling just like the bear she was, the caterer lumbered into the house, her team of fellow shifters behind her. Varying, Alessandra assumed, in species and breed based on the body size and hair colors streaming through the Crows' doorway. Some had to be about seven feet tall. Others didn't even reach Alessandra's shoulder.
“And don't even think about spitting in our food!” Alessandra remembered to yell after them.
Alessandra snapped her fingers at two of her sister-Crows and pointed at the caterer, silently signaling them to follow Her Lady Bitchiness and her Bitchy Animal Menagerie.
Before Alessandra could close the doors, the chairs and tents arrived. A company also owned and staffed by shifters. Then security. Men and women so large, she would have guessed they were all Vikings except they ranged in race . . . and apparently species.
The shifter-owned companies were overpriced, the management and staff rude, with a tendency to snarl and/or bark. But there was just nothing better than being able to unleash one's wings during a great party, while still having someone else serve you. It was the only reason the Crows and Ravens hired shifters. Because the Clans didn't tell anyone about the shifters' ability to chase their own tails and the shifters didn't tell anyone that the Crows and Ravens had a molting season.
It was an agreement that worked as long as some hyena didn't hit on some tipsy Valkyrie who responded by cutting his throat and laughing. That was usually when trouble really began.
But that was why Alessandra had also hired a shifter-owned security company. Just to prevent that sort of thing. So she had high hopes all would go well this evening.
The DJ and her staff made it in, and Alessandra ticked them off the list on her tablet.
Seeing that the entire staff was now here, she began to close the door for the last time. But a hand slapped against it and pushed.
Startled, she stepped back, then grinned. “Yardley! You made it, girl!”
“Yeah.” She tossed her luggage in. Most stars had their security team or assistants handle their luggage. But Yardley's entire team was made up of Crows . . . and they knew the woman could handle her own goddamn luggage. “The shoot is currently on . . . hiatus.”
“What? Why?” Alessandra owned a Spanish-language TV network, so she loved hearing industry gossip. And rumors about the director Yardley had been working with were swirling everywhere. She was dying to hear the scoop.
“Well,” Yardley began, “they found the director without his skin. So that sorta halted production for a while.”
Alessandra gasped. “
What?

“Yeah. Guess I'll have to go to his funeral tomorrow. And he turned out to be such an asshole. But I'll need to at least make an appearance.”
“Wait. Hold on. His
skin
was missing? What the fuck happened?”
“Not really sure. But there's every chance . . . Brianna ripped it off him.”
Alessandra's arms dropped to her sides and she gazed at her sister-Crow in shock.
Not surprisingly, before either woman could say another word, a number of Crows were suddenly surrounding them, having overheard and being naturally downright nosy.
Leigh held up one finger. “I'm sorry . . . what?”
“Brianna?” Alessandra asked. “Betty's Brianna?”
Yardley scrunched up her nose in a way that had made her “one of the sexiest ten women alive” according to some men's magazine a year ago. “Yeahhhhhh.”
Maeve grabbed Yardley's hand and dragged her toward the living room. “Come with me. I must hear
everything.

And considering Maeve didn't like touching anyone because of the whole “germ transference thing,” as she called it . . . this was huge.
So while the shifters got the party set up outside, the Crows got the dirt.
 
They were sitting in the waiting room outside the Mother Superior's office. The Mother Superior was out of town, but her second in command, the one who'd called the Crows, was in attendance. And she, like the Mother Superior, was not to be ignored.
Because in the Crows' world, there were nuns . . . and there were nuns.
And then there were the Sisters of St. Mary Magdalene Convent of All Saints aka the Chosen Warriors of God.
Since the dawning of Christianity, the Sisters had been working in the background to protect the world from itself and to prevent the End of Days. In a lot of ways, their goals were no different from that of the Crows, but the two groups had a bloody history. One filled with violent sneak attacks, assassination attempts, revenge killings, and a particularly ugly event that brought on the Salem witch trials. But when that led to a bad time for boths sides, a treaty was born that still held to this day.
A treaty that was, at best, shaky.
Jace reached for a magazine on the coffee table in the middle of the room, and noticed that Kera had a nervous tic. She was using the ball of her foot to bounce her leg the way one might nervously tap one's fingers against a desk.
At first, Jace didn't mind. But five minutes in and she was getting annoyed.
Jace was about to gently lay her hand on Kera's leg—she probably didn't even know she was doing it—but Erin barked, “The leg, dude! What is wrong with you?” before Jace had the chance.
Of course, Kera was immediately defensive, which was why Jace had planned to try something different.
Sitting across the room, Chloe read the latest
Vanity Fair
with a nearly naked Yardley on the cover while Jace did her best to separate Erin and Kera as they slapped and punched at each other
over
Jace, who sat between them.
“Are you going to help me?” Jace asked their leader.
“Help you with what, babe?” She didn't even look up from her magazine, but she did say, “I can't believe nuns have a subscription to
Vanity Fair
. Like, shouldn't they be reading something called
Nun News
? Or
Daily Nun
?”
Fed up, Jace forced her two friends apart, screeching, “Stop it! Stop it now!” as four men entered the waiting room and sat in the chairs across from them.
Big and buff, they flipped through magazines or talked on their cell phones while Jace's sister-Crows settled back into their chairs and muttered curses at each other.
Jace didn't think much about these men because she already knew them. But when one winked and smiled at Kera, making her friend smile back, Jace knew she had to step in.
Jace had no worries that Kera would even
think
about cheating on her boyfriend. Kera loved Vig with all her heart. And most women enjoyed a little light flirting. Not catcalls, but light flirting. But these were not men to flirt with.
“Stop it,” Jace said, keeping her voice low.
“Stop what? I barely touched Erin.”
“Not that. Stop flirting with him.”
“I'm not. He's flirting with me. I'm just appreciating it.”
“Every girl likes to know she's still got it going on,” Erin noted, her mini-fight with Kera already forgotten. The girl was not big on holding grudges once the initial heat wore off.
“You don't want to flirt with those men,” Jace informed her friends.
“Why not?”
“Because they're the Four Horsemen.”
Kera blinked. “The Four Horsemen of what?”
Jace and Erin gazed at her for a moment before Jace said, “The
Apocalypse.

Kera snorted and gave a little laugh. “Now
you're
fucking with me, Jace? Did Erin tell you to do this? Like when she told me I'd have to sleep with all the Valkyries so Odin would allow me to shack up with one of his Ravens.”
“Erin!”
“I didn't say she had to,” Erin corrected. “I said I'm sure Odin would appreciate it.”
“You're an asshole,” Kera barked.
“You act like you're telling me something I don't already know,” Erin shot back.

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