The Undoing (37 page)

“You're going to make a really good war general, Kera.” Her friend cringed and Jace quickly asked, “You're not going to vomit, are you?”

“Everyone needs to stop asking me that,” Kera snapped. “I'm not running around, vomiting everywhere.”

“Are you sure?”

Kera's eyes narrowed but at least she no longer appeared nauseated. Just then, arguing from the front door caught their attention.

Together they headed down the hall, and that's when Jace saw her, trying to push her way in, and screaming.

Screaming for Jace.

Kera immediately grabbed her arm to hold her back, but Jace shook her friend off and walked up to her mother, catching hold of the sweatshirt she wore and shoving her back out the front door.

“Jace—”

“Leave us!” she ordered her friends.

It took a moment, but they finally closed the door and Jace pushed her mother away from her.

“Go!”

“What did you do to him?
What did you do?
” her mother screamed.

“Your false prophet is no longer here.”

“You killed him,” she gasped.

“I thought he couldn't die.”

Her mother swung at her face with an open hand but Jace easily caught it, held it. Bent the wrist just enough to cause her mother to wince.

“Now listen to me,” Jace said softly, but firmly. “Your false prophet is no longer my problem. He's no longer your problem. He's now the government's problem. He's in a facility where he can no longer cause anyone any harm, including himself. You should be grateful. They'll take such good care of him.”

“Where are the others?”

Jace gazed at her mother for a long moment before she asked, “What others?”

Her mother shook her head, lips a thin angry line. “You evil, evil child.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. He was found on the street last night. Alone. Crazed and out of control. Talking about insane, unfathomable things. He was immediately taken into custody and he's safer now. He won't be hurting anyone ever again.” Jace shrugged. “But if the rest of his congregation is missing, I really don't know what to tell you. I have no idea where they could be.”

“You'll burn in hell for this. I'll tell—”

“You'll tell who what?” Jace asked. “That they came here to kill me last night? To kill my friends?”

Her mother's mouth slowly closed and she looked down at the ground, proving to Jace that her mother had known all along what Braddock and the others had come to do. To not only kill a group of strangers, but her own daughter.

She'd known, and she'd done absolutely nothing to stop it.

“You should go now,” Jace told her, no longer feeling anything for this woman. “My friends don't like you being here. Bothering me.”

Her mother lifted her gaze. First to Jace's face and then above her.

Her eyes widened and Jace knew her sister-Crows were perched on the roof, watching out for Jace. Protecting her.

“Go,” Jace told her mother again. “And don't come back. I don't ever want to see you again.”

Jace turned and walked to the door, but she stopped, and added because she felt she had to, “And just a last word of warning—if my grandmother suddenly comes looking for you, or one of my uncles . . . you better run.”

 

Ski waited on the stairs until Jace came into the Protector house. She took one look at him and sighed.

“Kera called you, didn't she?”

“She was worried. Your mother came to the Bird House and she said you calmly handled it. No red eyes. No berserker rage. The Crows don't know how to deal with the calm you.”

“What was there to get angry over?” She stepped in front of him, dropping her backpack at the base of the banister. “She can't touch me anymore. Not emotionally. Besides, she's lost without him. I almost feel bad for her. Almost.”

Ski wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. He pressed his head against her belly and just held her. He felt her body unwind, her fingers stroking his hair.

“I heard from that Claw,” he said, talking about Bystrom, the ATF agent and Claw of Ran member who'd been involved in the prosecution of Jace's ex.

“What did he want?”

“That Federal Prosecutor went to the hospital to see Braddock. After that, he wanted to come talk to you. Bystrom said he managed to put him off. I didn't ask how. I didn't care.”

“That was very nice of Bystrom.”

“Well, it was either that or Bystrom would have had to put the poor guy down if he found out too much. It's better he tells him whatever lie will keep him away.”

“Agreed. Jennings is a really nice guy. He simply never understood what he was dealing with.”

“Well, none of that matters now.”

Ski turned his head, looked up at Jace. “I'm glad you're here.”

“Me, too.”

“And you'll stay?”

“Of course. You told me you loved me and you asked me to move in with you.”

“Well, actually what I said was—”

Ski had to stop talking, completely distracted by a silent Bear suddenly walking around Jace, with Lev in his hands. He held the puppy out in front of him and, after moving the dog around Jace's head and face a few times, he began to slowly walk backward, the dog still held out in front of him.

“What . . . what's Bear doing?” Jace asked softly

Ski blew out a breath. “Luring you with your puppy.”

“Why?”

“He wants you to get to work.”

Jace opened her mouth a few times until she finally shrugged and stated, “Okay.”

They walked toward the library together. Her arm around his waist, his around her shoulders.

“Will your brothers mind me living here now?”

“You? Not at all. Kera will also be welcome. Actually, everyone in your strike team will be welcome . . . except Erin. They will
not
be happy if Erin comes here.”

“Oh, come on. Erin's not that bad.”

“Erin's personal weapon is fire. There is no
way
that Marbjörn Ingolfsson, who comes from a very long line of Viking book lovers, is ever going to willingly allow that woman into our library around our precious books. Just not going to happen.”

Jace suddenly slowed down, her gaze locked on a spot across the hall.

“What?” Ski asked. “What is it?”

She cringed. “I
think
I might have an idea. I'll need to research it first. Heavily. But . . . yeah. I might have an idea how we can end Gullveig for good.”

“Please tell me it has nothing to do with Erin ‘I live to be difficult' Amsel. Please. If you love me . . .
please
.”

“I do love you,” Jace said sweetly. “But, sadly, I cannot make that promise.”

“Yeah,” Ski said as he kissed her on the forehead. “I was afraid of that.”

T
he passenger door opened and Jace took Ski's hand. He helped her out of the car and she immediately smoothed down the skirt of her dress. It was a cute dress she'd borrowed from a sister-Crow, but she didn't usually wear clothes like this. But she knew tonight was special, and if she didn't want to get yelled at for “not even trying!” she had to put on the damn dress.

“Breathe,” Ski told her.

“I'm breathing.”

“Actually, you're growling. And your eyes are getting that red tinge.”

He was right, of course, which was why he'd had to drag her here. She'd give anything to be in the Protector library doing her research. That's where she'd been for the last two weeks and she'd been loving it. Every day, she went to the library and immersed herself in books, looking to see if her still shaky—
and possibly ridiculous
—plan could possibly work to kill Gullveig. And every night she went to Danski Eriksen's bed.

It would all be perfect if she had any clue that she was on the right track. But Kera had been right. Jace wasn't in this alone. She had the Protectors and the Maids working right along with her and none of them were about to give up. They wouldn't.

“It'll be fine,” Ski promised. “We brought baklava.”

Jace laughed and leaned in, kissing him.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“Did you think I would miss this for the world?” He picked up the big box of baklava and headed to the small house.

Seeing it again, after all this time, nearly had Jace exploding into one of her panic attacks, but she fought it. Everything was going to be fine.

“There is one thing,” Ski said, stopping in front of her.

“What?”

He winced a little, making Jace think something was horribly wrong until he said, “I love you.”

“Oh.” Jace nodded. “I know. You told me.”

“Actually . . . I didn't.”

“You did. I clearly remember you telling me you loved me.”

“No. I said you drove me crazy. I meant, at the time, literally that you were driving me crazy.”

“Whatever,” she said, walking around him, “but that's not how I remember it.”

She heard him laugh behind her and knew her face was bright red from embarrassment, but she ignored it and went to the door, ringing the bell.

A few seconds later, the door opened and Jace blinked, looked at a startled Ski, then back at the door.

“Bear? What are you doing here?”

“Your grandmother invited us. She said she wanted to get to know the men who are going to be around her granddaughter. Then she called me annoying and hung up the phone while I was still talking.”

Ski sized up his brother Protector. “Did you ask her a lot of questions, Bear?”

“I guess some might say, but I thought they were very pertinent.”

“Of course you did.”

“She invited you guys,” Jace asked, “but not my sister-Crows?”

“She called them whores she didn't want around her other grandchildren.”

Jace turned to leave but Ski blocked her with his body.

“Anyway,” Bear went on, clueless, “she has Norwegian beer.” He held up the bottle, gazed at them both a moment more, then walked away.

Ski blew out a breath. “Why do I do what I do again?” he asked Jace. “Could you remind me?”

“To save the world and dole out Tyr-style justice.”

“Right. You're right.”

He started to open the screen door, but she caught his leather jacket, tugged. “And you love me?” At the moment, she needed to hear it again. Before she faced Nëna.

Ski smiled, pressed his forehead against hers. “And I love you.”

They stood like that for a long time until Jace heard Nëna bark, “Do you two mind not doing whatever disgusting thing you're doing on my front porch so the neighbors don't think I have some whores living here? Thank you!”

Jace growled, and Ski immediately held up the pastry box. “Baklava. We have baklava. Even she can't resist that.”

“You
seriously
do not know my grandmother.”

 

Hel, comfortable once again in the new armor created by the dwarves of Asgard, opened the mystical doorway and reached in. She dug around until she felt Gullveig's energy.

She grabbed the god's hand and yanked her into Helheim.

And the snotty bitch was
still
screeching.

“Shut up!”

“
Where the fuck have you been?
”

Hel raised a finger. “We need to make something clear. I don't work for you, heifer. I'm doing you a favor.”

“And why is that?”

“Before it was because I was bored. But now it's because the Crows have pissed me off.”

“And for that you'll bring Ragnarok down on humanity's head?”

“You're doing it because you're pissed at your sister.”

“That's different.”

“And what do I care?” Hel asked. “Ragnarok or not, there'll always be a place for the dead and its queen. Now, are you in or out?”

“In.” Her hands curled into fists. “
I want my necklace back!
”

“You and that necklace . . .”

Gullveig started to walk away, but her legs gave out and she went down on her knees.

Hel snapped her fingers at one of the Carrion and motioned to Gullveig.

“Go, sister,” she soothed, patting her shoulder. “Get some rest. Get your strength back.”

The Carrion helped the god up, and she studied Hel. “And then what?”

“And then . . . I think it's time for you to meet my father.”

“I did meet your father. He tried to kill me, too!”

Exasperated, Hel snapped, “Okay, dude, you really need to let that go already!”

KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

 

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Copyright © 2016 Shelly Laurenston

 

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ISBN: 978-1-6177-3509-7

 

 

 

First Electronic Edition: April 2016

 

ISBN-13: 978-1-61773-510-3
ISBN-10: 1-61773-510-8