The Undoing (25 page)

As he fucked her hard, taking her with such force, he watched her wings unfurl from her back, stretching out nearly six feet long.

He would have been impressed with himself... if he didn't suddenly realize his own wings were out. In fact, they'd been out since Jace had presented her ass to him.

Shocked—he'd never, in his life, unknowingly unfurled his wings . . .
ever
—Ski realized he was about to come. Like a volcano, he was about to explode.

One hand still on her hip, Ski slid the other around Jace's waist and lowered his hand to her pussy. He clasped her clit between his fingers and twisted and squeezed until Jace buried her face in the pillow and screamed.

That's when Ski let himself come. He came hard and long. It felt like it went on forever, his body jerking with each fresh shot.

When there was nothing left, he finally released Jace. She fell onto the bed and he collapsed beside her.

Panting hard, they both looked at each other, eyes wide in shock, mouths open.

And it was together that each said what the other was thinking. . .

“Holy shit.”

S
ki reappeared at the window with two big bowls of that delicious-looking mac and cheese.

Jace opened the window and Ski climbed in, his wings tucking back into his body.

“How bad is it down there?” she asked, taking the bowls from him and placing them on the towel she'd spread out on the floor.

“I think it was starting to break up, but Odin and Thor just arrived. Thor brought beer. Odin brought women.”

“Strippers?”

“Probably.”

They sat down cross-legged on the floor, the towel between them, and Ski pulled silverware and napkins out of the pockets of his sleeveless hoodie.

“I can't believe he'd bring outsiders to a Clan party.”

“Well, by the time he's done with them . . .” Ski looked up and blinked in surprise. It must have been written on her face.

“No, no,” he said quickly. “I just mean he'll make them forget. Odin doesn't believe in destroying beautiful women unless they have a spear in their hand and they're trying to kill him first. Plus, I'm happy to say, the mighty Tyr would never let him get away with it.”

They ate for several minutes in silence until Jace asked, “Bottled water?”

“I forgot to get some.”

“No. I was asking if you wanted any.” She turned and crawled over to the end table built to hide her small fridge. She grabbed two bottles and returned, handing him one.

“You have a fridge in your bedroom?”

“Just a small one. That way I don't have to stop reading when I'm thirsty or need a yogurt.”

“So much planning to avoid others.”

Jace grinned. “Yeah, I know. Pretty shameless, right?”

“You could be worse.”

They fell silent again, enjoying their food. But it wasn't awkward. Jace had the feeling Ski didn't mind quiet times. He didn't need constant noise. Not when he was comfortable and happy.

“Thank you,” she said softly when her bowl was empty.

“For what?”

“I don't know.” She placed the bowl down. “For being goofy with me. That's not easy for a lot of men. From what I understand and have read, they take their sex very seriously. Which, to me, sounds very stressful. I have enough anxiety issues.”

“Jace”—he placed his now-empty bowl on top of hers—“we have wings. I can turn my head nearly two hundred seventy degrees. You have talons. The Crows have a dog that can fly.”

“That's Brodie Hawaii.”

“Because why would one give a dog a regular name like Spot or Bella?” He lifted his hands, then dropped them as if giving up. “We report to ancient gods who like war so much they are actively trying to avoid Ragnarok while at the same time,
really
looking forward to it because they will most likely go out in a blaze of glory. Downstairs, the All-Father is hanging out with strippers while his brawny son tries to goad the Ravens into a fight they can't win because he thinks his father likes them better. And, to be honest with you . . . Odin
does
like the Ravens better.”

“Awww. Thor's not so bad.” When Ski's entire face contorted into a mask of confusion and disgust , Jace remained adamant. “He's not. I mean, he's not . . . he could . . . I mean . . . he could use a little . . . it's just . . . he . . .” She shrugged helplessly. “He could be worse.”

“I think they once said that about Genghis Khan.”

“They did not!”

Josef shook his head at the god and placed his opened but untouched beer beside him on the bench. “Thor, we're not fighting you.”

“Because you fear me,” the giant blond replied, looking really self-satisfied.

“No, because you're a god. It would not be a fair fight for the Ravens.”

Thor threw his big arms up and turned toward his human Clan. “The Ravens fear me!”

The Giant Killers raised their fists and cheered. Sadly, however, they didn't see the newest Crow walk up behind them with one of the Killer hammers she'd taken from them when she'd first arrived.

Kera had gone off earlier to be sick. Josef had assumed she'd be gone for the rest of the night. Probably passed out after a good vomiting. But she'd come back, reminding him that she was former military. True warriors did know how to drink.

“Hey!” Kera barked and the Killer Snorri spun around. She hit him with what might have been his own weapon once, sending the much bigger man flying over Thor's head.

Kera lifted the hammer and faced her fellow sister-Crows. She gave a perfectly acceptable battle cry and the Crows cheered until the Killer's leader, Freida, tackled Kera from behind.

The two women hit the ground and the rest of the Crows immediately reacted, diving at the pair, which meant that the Killers dove at the Crows. And Thor wandered off to find more beer. He liked beer.

A typical Clan party, in Josef's estimation.

“A stripper?” a voice asked beside him. “Really?”

“Hey, Serena,” Josef greeted the Alabama Crow. “It's always so nice to see someone who can't help but
not
mind her own business.”

“Now come on, darlin'. Ain't we friends?”

“No.”

She sat down next to him on the bench and pressed her hand against her chest. “Now, that hurts me.”

“No, it doesn't.” Josef placed his hand on her knee. “You know, Serena, it's okay. You can admit it.”

“I can admit what?” she asked, lifting his hand off her leg by grabbing his forefinger.

Josef couldn't help but smirk. “That you're still a little hung up on me.”

Serena abruptly dropped his hand. “Hung up on you over what?”

“You know . . . the Trials. The one in Wisconsin.”

“Wiscon—good Lord! That was fifteen years ago.”

“Yeah, but we had a good time.”

“We made out. Once. And to be honest, I was just trying to make my boyfriend jealous. Darlin', you were convenient.”

“Okay,” Josef said on a sigh. “If you want to play it that way.”

“If I . . . have you lost your mind?”

“You were the one who protested our wedding.”

“I didn't protest your wedding. I made a toast. And said Chloe could do better.”

“
She
could do better?” he scoffed. “Yeah. Right.”

“You do understand that Chloe Wong doesn't
need
you, right?”

“She doesn't?”

“No. She doesn't. She successfully leads one of the biggest Crow Clans in the States and has a thriving outside career.”

“You mean the little book thing?”

“The little . . .” Serena's hands curled into fists. “She is a best-selling author.”

“Yeah. Sure. Best-selling to bored housewives who like a little romance with their historical fiction. It's not like she's writing the Great American Novel or anything.”

“Like you'd know good fiction if it kicked you in the balls.”

“I read!”

“Not well!”

“Look, I'm just saying . . . if she wants to hook up with some boring surgeon just so she can get her tits done, that's up to her. I mean . . . she's in her forties. I'm sure they've begun to sag.”

Serena stretched her arms out, her hands still fists, and Josef thought for sure she was about to hit him, but she slowly shook her head and said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“That bit of guilt I was having . . . you helped make it go away.”

“Hey,” he said with real care, “I get it. After all these years you're still hung up on me. And to see me and Chloe together. . . that had to be hard. And now that I've moved on, seeing Chloe pine for me like you do . . . that's got to be hard, too. I totally understand.”

“Oh! I'm so glad you do!” She patted his knee. “So glad!”

“But don't worry, sweetie. I know you'll find somebody. One day.”

Serena made a weird, whimpering-type noise in the back of her throat before she stood and walked away.

“Poor thing,” Josef sighed before picking up his beer and finishing it off, wincing a bit at the bitter taste.

 

Still seething, Serena stood beside Neecy and watched that idiot finish his beer and signal for another.

“This is taking too long,” she finally complained.

“No, it's not.”

“You did something wrong.”

“I did not.” Neecy faced her. “And, my God, what did that asshole say to you?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Well, stop snarling at me.”

“I just thought a former drug dealer would have a better handle on this.”

“Really?” Neecy growled. “You're actually bringing up my First Life?”

“Just pointing out the facts!”

Sadie came up behind them and pointed at Josef. “Check it out.”

He was out cold.

Serena grinned and patted Neecy on the shoulder. “Nice job, Dr. Kevorkian.”

“Call me that again and I'm gonna snap something off you. Something vital.”

“Are you two done?” Sadie asked. “'Cause if you are . . . I'm ready to have some fun.”

“Are you guys really sure we should do this?” Neecy asked.

Serena calmly explained to her friend, “If you'd asked me that
before
I talked to him, I might have been swayed by whatever argument your Raven-lovin' ass might have had. But now . . . let's go get him.”

 

“Should we go down and help?” Jace asked.

The last thing Ski wanted to do was go down and break up a ridiculous brawl between the Crows, the Killers, and now the Ravens. He was proud to note that most of his brothers had either left or were watching the brawl from the trees without bothering to involve themselves.

Very proud.

“Do you want to go help?” he grudgingly asked.

“No.”

“Then let's assume they'll be fine.”

Jace seemed relieved by that response and he began to move away from the window, hoping to lure her back to bed, when he caught sight of something from the corner of his eye. He turned and saw that dog hovering right outside.

Ski didn't know which was more disturbing at the moment. The big pit bull.

The big pit bull with black wings.

Or that the big pitbull with black wings was holding a puppy in its mouth.

Okay. He'd admit it.
All
of it was disturbing.

Grinning, Jace reached out the window and took hold of the puppy. “Thank you, Brodie.” Holding the animal close, she asked, “You going back down?”

The dog barked, which meant . . . what? That she'd understood the question? What was happening?

“Remember . . . back up the girls, but no lashing out. Chloe will have a fit.”

Another bark and with expert ease, the dog dove back into the fray.

“And that,” Ski had to ask, “doesn't weird you out at all?”

“What doesn't?”

“A flying dog? A flying dog that seems to understand what you're saying to her?”

“No. Doesn't bother me at all.”

“Okay.” In too good a mood to argue about it, Ski went back to the bed and stretched out. Hands behind his head, he closed his eyes and relaxed.

The bed dipped and he grinned . . . until he felt a wet nose sniffing his neck.

“Why is that touching me?”

“That is
my
dog.” Jace was stomach-down beside him, and naked, having removed her T-shirt. “We are a pair.”

“Which is fine. But it's still just a dog and doesn't need to be here to get an explicit lesson in fucking by watching us.”

“
Just
a dog? Do you call that feline
just
a cat?”

“I do, but Salka doesn't. And if you want to keep your eyes in your head, you shouldn't, either.”

“You can talk about your cat like it understands what's going on around it—”

“She does!”

“But
Brodie
freaks you out?”

“That dog is not normal.”

“Of course she's not normal, but she's cool! She has wings and is great in a fight and she has doggy mom instincts when it comes to Lev. What does that cat do?”

“She watches my back and loves me despite my human weakness.”

“Wait a minute.” Jace sat up, resting on her knees. “You just think cats are smarter than dogs, don't you?”