The Undoing (27 page)

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.

He looked back into the yard. There was nothing there except several large bags of trash tied up and waiting to be removed. A goat—he didn't want to know
why
there was a goat on their property. And some birds.

A whole flock of black birds sitting on the lawn. A few took to the air and he watched them fly up and over until they landed . . . in front of him.

He knew this would sound crazy, but it was like they were trying to block his way. Three crows? Seriously.

Good Lord, what was wrong with him? He was getting paranoid. It was probably because of that goat. He knew they must be using that goat for something evil.

Yet he trusted the Great Prophet and their mighty Lord would protect him. He had nothing to worry about.

He started walking again, but the crows squawked at him and flapped their wings violently. He stopped again. More crows landed in front of him and he looked over his shoulder once more to eye that pile of birds. That's when he saw the pile begin to rise from the ground. These birds weren't flying but they were all moving up and up until they finally took off, leaving a very large and very angry-looking pit bull.

He stepped back, the goat and birds forgotten; the puppy in his arms whimpering and writhing, trying to get out of his arms.

The pit bull began to walk toward him, then it was trotting, then it was flat-out running.

“Wait . . . oh God!
Oh God!
”

 

Ski walked into the room to find Erin with her arms around a bleeding Alessandra. An elderly woman stood beside Jace. And a middle-aged woman smiled at them all.

“What's going on?” he asked.

At the sound of his voice, Jace's head snapped around to look at him. Her eyes had turned red, her body was vibrating—from rage.

“Jace, no!”

But she was already moving, flashing across that room until she had her hand around that middle-aged woman's throat and had pinned her against the wall.

Ski and Vig ran to her, both attempting to pry her off the woman, using all the strength their gods had given them. But it was useless. Jace wouldn't let go.

She was already lost to the rage. Absolutely nothing but blood and death would bring her back. And she was intent on making the woman she had under her hands the sacrifice.

“Jace! Let her go!”

Kera also reached in, trying to separate her friend from this woman who was having the life choked from her while Jace spit at her in what Ski guessed was Russian.

The woman was seconds from dying. She was turning blue.

But then Vig was gone, yanked back by the hair, and the elderly woman stepped in to replace him. She pushed Kera away, as well. Then she slapped her hand flat against Jace's chest and like that . . . the rage was gone.

It didn't leave, it was vanquished. Jace's body stumbled back into Ski's arms.

It was the damndest thing. Not because Jace's rage was gone but because the aftermath—the sobbing or the sleeping—didn't immediately come.

Instead, she just seemed stunned, gazing up at the elderly woman who now had her hand against the other woman's throat.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance, but you were necessary. Now, go,” the elderly woman ordered, throwing the other stranger toward the door. The woman rolled across the carpet until she landed on her knees, choking and drooling, her color flooding back. “Get out and do not come for my granddaughter again. Because if she doesn't kill you . . . I will.”

 

Gundo was standing out in the backyard, where most of the remnants of last night's party had been removed except for several large trash bags waiting to be dumped.

A goat ran past him and into the house.

He decided not to think about the goat because he was too busy figuring out why he was standing out here in the first place. He also didn't know why he felt he couldn't go back inside yet. It was the strangest thing.

And crazy! That old woman had no control over him. He was going back inside!

Gundo started toward the house but stopped when he heard rustling in a large bush. He moved closer as that winged dog and his bird friends suddenly began moving off around the side of the house.