The Undoing (32 page)

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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

BOOK: The Undoing
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He gazed at her for a bit before asking, “You're going to throw up, aren't you?”
Kara shook her head but she guessed he didn't believe her when he stuck the small trash can by the counter under her face.
“I don't have to throw up,” she reassured him.
“You sure? When you first got here—”
“I know what I did when I first got here, and no, I don't have to throw up. I just . . . I'm not a war general. I'm logistics. That's what I do. I make things happen.”
“For the Clans . . . that's a war general. If we left it up to everyone else, it would be nothing but fighting and fucking.” He leaned over the basket and kissed her forehead. “You'll be fine.”
“I hope so. Because if I'm not fine, apparently the world will blow up.”
“No. It won't blow up. Just nearly everything and everyone will be destroyed in a cataclysm of fire, battle, and blood between the gods, the giants, and Jörmungandr the Midgard serpent, who'll wrap himself around our world and crush it.”
Kera grabbed the trash can.
“What?” Vig asked her over the heaving. “What did I say?”
 
His parishioners thought he was being foolish. Coming back here. But he had to know the truth. He had to know what he was dealing with.
He made his way onto the property and kept to the bushes, moving slowly and carefully. It took him ages.
Women sat out in the backyard at tables, talking and laughing. Enjoying themselves while music played. Some danced with each other. Some drank beer or hard liquor poured straight from the bottle.
At a rehab center?
And above them all were crows. Hundreds of them, in the trees. Watching over them.
That was enough for Braddock. He needed to rescue his wife from this. He needed to bring her back safely into the fold and away from these whores.
But before he could move, a large pit bull ran over to the bushes that grew around the house itself and began digging. After a few minutes, she grabbed hold of something and began to pull. Before long, she pulled out a leg bone.
A leg bone still attached to something that was once human.
He knew who it was. One of his people. The one who'd disappeared while Jacinda's mother was here. Braddock knew this even though there was no more flesh or skin on the bones.
Placing her front paw against a hip bone, the dog pulled and pulled, head dramatically twisting from side to side, growling as she tried to separate the leg from the rest of the skeleton.
One of the women came over after hearing the noise.
“Brodie? What are you doing, girl?” The woman gasped and Braddock felt a tiny bit of hope. This woman would raise the alarm, wouldn't she? Understand that evil was here.
But that hope was quickly squashed when she told the dog, “No, Brodie. You can't play with that. Bad girl! If your momma sees this, she's going to lose her mind.” The woman crouched beside the dog. “Remember? We can't tell your momma what you and the birds did. We can't tell anybody. Right, Brodie? Right?”
The dog seemed to understand her, which was disturbing enough. But then it lowered its top half to the ground, big pit bull ass in the air.
“Brodie Hawaii, don't you dare—”
The dog took off, dragging most of the skeleton with it. The other women saw and screamed. Not in horror, though. There was no horror. Instead, laughing, they chased after the dog. Laughing and chastising all at the same time.
“Brodie Hawaii, you bring that back here!”
“Brodie, stop! Your mom is going to flip out!”
“Brodie! You represent all pit bulls!”
A redhead caught hold of the skeleton's arm. A few of the other women grabbed other parts and that's when the tugging began. The dog dragged the women one way, then another.
“Dammit, Brodie! Give it! Give it now!”
The dog yanked and the skeleton broke apart, but the dog still had the leg bone, hip, and the rib cage. And it trotted around the yard, tossing its head and what was left of the remains in its mouth from side to side.
Disgusted and horrified, Braddock fell back, but he caught himself with his arms. He was still in the bushes, but one of the black birds in the trees looked over. Its head turned to the side, twitched. It saw him . . . and it let out a squawk that the other black birds followed.
Braddock took off running.
Birds slammed into him, pecking at him, tearing at his clothes, his skin, going for his eyes. He swatted at them and kept running until he saw the van.
His men threw the door open and screamed, “Get in!”
Braddock dove headfirst into the vehicle, the door closing shut behind him as it took off. A few of the birds were still attached to him but he pulled them off and crushed them against the van floor or in his hands until there were none left.
When he got his breath back, he looked at the men with him. He knew now there was no saving his ex-wife. She was lost to him and his congregation, which left only one option open to him.
“They all die,” he told his men. “Every last one of them.”
 
Erin and the others ran down to the end of their driveway, but the van had already turned the corner.
“Follow them!” she called out to the birds circling above. They flew off and Erin glanced down at the arm bone she had in her hand.
“You want to track him down tonight and kill him?” Alessandra asked.
“We can't.”
“But he saw.”
“Saw what? A mass of birds attacking him? A skeleton that in about five minutes will no longer exist? Our pure evil? Do you really think cops will take a known crazy cult leader seriously?”
“He may not go to the cops,” Annalisa suggested, “but he'll be back.”
“We'll deal with him then.”
Erin turned back to the house and let out a sigh. “Brodie Hawaii, you get back here with that leg! Damn dog.”
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-FIVE
S
ki walked into the library and paused at the entrance, gazing thoughtfully at what he saw.
They all stood at the end of one of the tables, looking at a book. Jace was the closest to the book, her face only inches from the pages, peering through a magnifying glass. Bear, Gundo, Borgsten, Haldo, and Ormi leaned over Jace's back.
“What's happening?” Ski asked.
“We're trying to read this book,” Haldo explained. “It's in Latin. Very old. The words are a bit faded.”
“A bit?” Bear replied. “The pages are almost white.”
Gundo attempted to move in closer. “Maybe there's a way to enhance the lettering.”
“Not without damaging the pages.” Borgsten pointed at the book. “I've worked with books this old. They are very fragile.”
“Gentlemen,” Ski said, loudly. They all looked up at him and he sighed. They did all resemble owls, didn't they? Staring at him like that.
Every last one of them—overly intelligent predators.
“Let's work on this tomorrow. It's late, we're all exhausted.”
Gundo smirked. “Are you telling us it's bedtime?”
“Long past actually. The sun will be up soon.”
“We're not children,” Bear complained. “If I want to stay up, I can stay up. You're not my father!”
Ormi's eyes crossed before he asked Ski, “Protection?”
“Holde's Maids have come and gone. The whole house is secure with runes and hexes. The Carrion won't be getting through that any time soon.”
“And the other Clans' bases of operation?”
“Handled. Although I do believe your wife got in a fight with Freida.”
“Because she thinks the Killers are stupid. And my lovely partner in this world and the next does love saying so to stupid people.”
“It's why I get along so well with her.”
Ormi laughed. “And the families?”
“Heading up to Yosemite as we speak. The Isa will ensure their safety until after the full moon.”
“Excellent. Nicely handled.” Ormi looked at the brothers, who'd gone back to gazing over Jace's shoulder at the book. “Gentlemen!”
Like startled birds, the men jumped, but not Jace. She was probably used to that sort of noise level being around so many Crows.
“Bedtime,” Ormi ordered.
“There's still research to be done.”
“Then bring books with you.”
Bear gasped. “Out of the safety of the library?
Have you gone mad?
”
Ormi shrugged at Ski. “I tried.”
“I know. And I do appreciate it.”
He thought about approaching Jace, but he knew her well enough now to know that she wouldn't take kindly to him interrupting her work.
But as he was heading out, Jace suddenly threw the magnifying glass she held across the room.
“What's wrong?” Ski faced her, but his brothers had backed away like she was on fire. Afraid she'd suddenly attack them in a screaming fit.
This wasn't one of her “rages,” though, as the Protectors liked to now call them. She was simply frustrated.
He walked around the table and grabbed her hand.
“I'm not finished,” she growled at him.
“You're taking a break.” He pulled her toward the glass doors. “Come on. Just a few minutes. A little fresh air. It'll be good for you.”
Bear and a few others started to follow, probably thinking a little fresh air sounded like a good idea, but Ski pointed a finger at them. “Get back to work.”
“But—”
Ormi grabbed Bear by the back of his hoody and yanked him to the table. “Back to work.” He winked at Ski and motioned to the doors with a jerk of his head.
Thank you
, Ski mouthed before dragging a pouting Jace out of the house and down the path toward a quiet spot with several benches. He sat her down on one and crouched in front of her.
“Okay, talk to me.”
She frowned. “About what?”
“About what's frustrating you.”
“Everything.”
“Okay. That's a good start. But let's narrow it down a bit.”
“I'm not your brothers, you know?”
“I know. You are much cuter and have much smaller shoulders.”
She stood and began to pace. “I feel like it's right . . .
there
. But I just can't get it.”
“What did you see in that book?”
“Nothing.”
Ski sat down on the bench. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, yeah, there was Latin. And it was interesting. But really I was just using it as a palate cleanser.”
“A what?”
“Cleansing my brain because . . . something is right . . . there, itching at the back of my skull.”
“Now you're starting to worry me.”
“I need to figure this out. Me.”
“Why you? You've got a whole team of Protectors looking at those books. The Maids are looking at their own. It'll be a team effort.”
“I don't want to fail Kera.”
“In what world are you failing Kera?”
“This one. In this world. Right here. Right now. Big, fat failure.”
“Are you always this hard on yourself?”
“Yes.”
Ski chuckled. “You know, there are psychology studies—”
“Seriously?” she instantly snapped.
“Are you going to let me finish?”
“Fine. Finish. Finish calling me crazy.”
“I was not about to call you crazy. I was just going to say that there are studies that say when working on something—for instance, a problem you can't solve—it's a good idea to take breaks.”
“I'm taking a break. Right? This is break-taking, isn't it?”
Wow.
“Yes, this is . . . break-taking. But a break where you're actually focusing on something else while you let your brain subconsciously work on your problem. Like laundry or dishes. Something mindless.”
“Is this just your way of getting me to do your dishes?”
“No. That's what I have Bear for.”
She nodded. “I thought staring at Latin would help.”
“Staring at Latin never helps. Unless you're a monk.” When she looked at him, he added, “Monks like Latin.”
“Okay, so mindless. Do you have any dirty dishes?”
“Nope. I already did them. And I made the guys use paper plates.”
“Well, I'm not doing your laundry.”
“What's wrong with my laundry?”
“Nothing. But why would I do yours when I hate doing my own?”
“How do you get clean clothes if you don't like doing laundry?”
“I sneak them in with my sister-Crows'.”
“That is sad.”
“It is. But you forget that for years I had an entire cult doing my laundry because I was the wife of the Great Prophet. And they could really make those whites pop.”
“I've only ever seen you in black. Or dark gray.”
“Because none of my sisters can get my whites to pop. Except Kera, but I think that's her military training. Oh wait!” She snapped her fingers. “I know what I can do.”
“What?”
Then Jace was tackling him off the bench and onto the ground.
 
Ski pressed his hands against her shoulders and held her off. “Are you trying to use me for sex?” he demanded.
Jace nodded. “Yes.”
He surprised her with a smile. “By Tyr, I love your honesty.”
“I've been told it's refreshing.”
“Definitely.”
Ski kissed her then and Jace melted into him. They were out here, in the open; any one of his brothers could walk by at any time, and she didn't care.
Of course, it helped she knew his brothers were obsessive about what they were doing, so chances of their wandering by were slim to none, but that wasn't the point, now, was it?
Jace only felt this free when she was flying at night with her sister-Crows.
She pulled away so she could remove her black tank top, tossing it aside, and unhook her bra. Ski sat up and wrapped his arm around her waist. He kissed her neck, her shoulder.
They weren't as frenzied as they had been the first time. They didn't need to be.
Jace grabbed hold of Ski's hoodie and pulled it over his head. She kissed him, digging her hands into his hair, lifting his chin up so she had complete access to his mouth.
His big hands stroked her back, eased around, and palmed her breasts. She gasped into his mouth, wrapped her arms tight around his shoulders, and rocked against his hips while their kiss went on and on.
When Ski finally pulled back a bit, he said, “I need to be inside you.” His voice was low, the sound shooting up her spine, making her toes curl inside her boots.
Using one hand, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and held up two condoms. Jace snorted and Ski shrugged his shoulders. “A Protector plans for anything, prepares for everything.”
Jace slipped off his lap and stood so she could remove her boots and jeans. By the time she had her jeans around her ankles—her boots still on—Ski was already easing a hand up inside her thigh.
His fingers slid inside her, and she knew she was already wet. He leaned in, pressing his face against her. His hand slipped out and his tongue slipped in. She tried to open her legs wide, but she could only go so far with her jeans still on. And he wouldn't stop so that she could get them off.
It was driving her crazy, though. She needed more of him inside her. Jace stepped back and tried to kick her boots off. It wasn't working and, laughing, Ski helped her. He untied the laces and yanked them off. She kicked her jeans away, and threw herself at Ski.
Now they were both laughing, rolling across the ground, playfully nipping at each other, hands exploring.
When Jace was on top again, she reached over to Ski's discarded jeans and grabbed the condoms. She had one on him quickly and, after pushing him flat on his back, she slowly took him inside her pussy.
They both groaned, then grinned at each other.
Jace couldn't really describe how much she enjoyed her time with Ski. It wasn't just the act of having sex, which was unbearably delightful. It was him. The way he looked at her. The way he let her lead or led instead. Without question or complaint.
It suddenly hit her. He liked her. Simply, easily. He liked her and understood her and liked her despite that.
Jace placed Ski's big hands back on her breasts. She loved the way he enjoyed them. Using his entire hand. The fingers, the palms, even the wrists. As if he just liked the feel of them.
She rocked against him, squeezing her muscles as she stared down into his eyes.
He didn't seem to mind that she was taking her time, and she was grateful. It had been a very long while since she'd had what some would consider “regular sex,” and he was definitely more than she was used to.
Of course, she liked that he filled her, his cock hitting her in such a way that she thought she might come just from him being inside her.
Their smiles and laughter faded, but their gasps and groans increased. Sweat dampened their skin even in the cool night air.
So Jace wasn't surprised when Ski rolled her over, pinning her down with his body. Yet she didn't feel trapped by him. In fact, the way he was looking at her, she got the feeling he was
more
trapped. By her. Which did shock her but made her feel good, too. Powerful.
Knowing that she wasn't alone in her feelings for him. Knowing that for once, she felt something for a man that wasn't pity or tolerance or fear.
Suddenly Ski stopped, his gaze on her face.
“What?” he asked. “What's wrong?”
Jace cupped his jaw with her hands and replied, “Absolutely nothing.”
 
It wasn't just the words. It was how she said it. The tone of her voice. It touched him on some strange, deep level he wouldn't be able to describe to anyone. Not even himself.
“Kiss me,” she ordered, and Ski did.
He kissed her and fucked her and took his time with both.
Jace's fingers dug into his back, stroked his spine, his hair. She lifted her legs, opening herself up as she wrapped them around his waist.
He pressed his palms against the ground and pushed himself up. Angling his hips, he took her with long thrusts, making sure to stroke her clit as he did so.
Her body tensed beneath his, her head falling back, exposing her neck. He licked a line from her collarbone to her ear, then gently bit down on a spot right beneath her chin.
Jace's entire body seemed to clench and she was coming, biting her lip to stop from screaming.
The sight of her fighting her instinct dragged him over the edge, too, and his hips powered into Jace as he seemed to keep coming and coming. Unable to stop, not wanting to, until there was nothing left.
Ski rolled off her, not wanting to trap her under his weight, but he reached out his hand to her and she immediately intertwined her fingers with his. They looked at each other, both grinning . . .
Until Jace's smile faded.
“What?” Ski asked, worried he'd hurt her. “What's wrong?”
“That's it,” she said.
“What's it?”
“That! You brilliant, brilliant man!” She kissed him hard before scrambling to her knees and grabbing her clothes. She disappeared down the trail toward the house, but a few seconds later, she shot back, tugging on her clothes as she ran.

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