The Undoing (4 page)

One of the Vanir, Gullveig was only mentioned once in the stanzas of
The Poetic Edda
. She came to meet with the Aesir—Odin and his brethren—and by the time she was done, they'd tried three different times to burn and stab her in the heart with spears. So not only did the other gods hate her, but she'd been impossible to kill.

Using their combined powers, the gods had tossed Gullveig's battered essence into another realm, but she'd never stopped trying to find her way back. And considering it was said she was “ever the delight of an evil woman,” it was probably a very good thing she never made it through.

“Are you sure we should have a party with Betty upstairs?” Kera asked. “You know . . . in a coma.”

“If it were anyone else
but
Betty, I'd say no.” Erin shrugged. “Maybe a good party will wake her up.”

“I heard her wimpy assistant has taken over since Betty's been gone. She's been firing people left and right. Kicking out clients. Stealing big clients from other agents. It's been a bloodbath.”

Erin gazed at Siggy. “How do you know that?”

“I read
Variety
. And people talk to me. I'm very charismatic.”

Erin began to argue that point, but Jace shoved a muffin in her mouth before she could say the words. The redhead had a lethal tongue. As vicious as the powerful flames Skuld had given her as an extra gift. Jace had seen her decimate people without raising a finger. Or a talon.

Siggy was just too easy a target.

Using a napkin, Erin coughed and spit out the muffin she didn't want, but she wasn't angry at Jace. Instead she laughed and asked, “I didn't even say anything yet!”

The sliding glass door behind Jace opened and a shadow fell over her. She'd just bitten down on a piece of bacon, but the way the Ravens tensed, eyes glaring, bodies ready to fight, as they stared at something behind her, she nearly spit it out. The Ravens could be moody, just like the god they represented on earth, Odin. But this change was so fast, she immediately turned to see what was behind her.

Danski Eriksen stood there in all his chiseled perfection. He wasn't nearly as big as the Ravens sitting with her. He was leaner. But every muscle on him was cut. Light brown hair hung in his bright green eyes but the back was a little shorter, more . . . clean cut. The Protectors weren't as uptight as the Silent, a Clan that managed to look down on pretty much the entire human race while still talking about protecting it. But the Protectors didn't talk about protecting the human race—they just did. Every day, in big and small ways.

With his head tipped down to look at her, Ski was forced to push the wire-rimmed glasses he wore back just as he smiled a bit.

“Hello, Jacinda,” he greeted. “I was told I'd find you back here.”

Another Protector, Gundo—she didn't know him by any other name—stepped out on the back patio, but Jace had little interest in this one. He was cute but Danski Eriksen was
really
cute.

Like, keep-a-girl-up-at-night cute.

“So, what?” Stieg abruptly demanded of Erin. “You're just letting Protectors in without question now? Is that what you're doing?”

Erin started laughing. Hard. So hard, she laughed for a good long while before she gasped out, “I love how you think you have any say here! Like you're important!” She slapped her hand against the table several times, still laughing. “That's the best!”

Eriksen watched the pair, head tilted to the side a bit before he blinked behind his glasses and finally said to Jace. “I'd like to offer you a job.”

He couldn't have shocked Jace more if he'd said, “
I'd like to set you on fire for a ritual sacrifice
.”

But before Jace could reply, Siggy piped in with, “Don't take it, Jace. It's a trap. They're trying to trap you. Admit it, you're trying to trap her.”

Eriksen stared at Siggy and asked, “How?”

“I don't know. You just . . . are. Admit it.”

Gundo began to say something but Eriksen raised his hand to cut him off. “No, no. Let's follow the logic.”

“What logic?”

Eriksen leaned down a bit so he could look Siggy in the eye. “Let's try and work this out, shall we? How could the two of us asking Ms. Berisha about a job in front of all of you be a trap? If she went missing, wouldn't you automatically
know
it was us?”

Siggy pointed a finger at both men. “It doesn't mean you wouldn't at least
try
.”

Kera and Erin winced at that, both knowing the big guy was just really attempting to use what he considered a form of logic. And Jace simply appreciated he was so protective of her. It was sweet.

Gundo gazed at Siggy for a moment before noting, “It must annoy you. That tiny little brain of yours pinging around in that big, bulbous head. Like a Ping-Pong ball inside a bowling ball bag.”

Siggy tried to flip the table over so he could go after the Protectors as dramatically as possible, but Vig and Stieg shoved him back down. They simply were not going to let that happen . . . not when they weren't done eating.

“Sit,” Vig ordered.

“Yeah, but—”

“
Sit
.”

Siggy dropped back into the seat and Eriksen refocused on Jace. “It's for some translation work. Russian to English.” He gave her that gorgeous smile. “Would you like the job?”

Jace deliberately made eye contact with Eriksen. Always important when dealing with job offers or interviews of any kind. Then she replied, “No.”

 

Ski didn't know what kind of response he'd expected from the quiet but powerfully beautiful Jacinda Berisha, but “no” was not on the list. Had that idiot Raven worried her with all his talk of “traps”? It was true. Protectors were the onetime enemies of all Crows and Ravens, but that had been a very long time ago. Several centuries, in fact.

Then again, Crows and Ravens were known for never forgetting an enemy.

“Uh . . . we're not asking for you to do this for free,” he stated, deciding to assume she was haggling for more money, like any self-respecting Crow would do. “We'll pay you well.”

She nodded, smiling, and replied, “No.”

“You'll be safe,” Gundo promised, also assuming that idiot had ruined everything. “There's a very good treaty between our Clans since the eighteen hundreds.”

“Oh, I'm not worried about that. I know I would be safe with all of you.”

“Okay then. Great. So you'll think about it?”

“No.” She stood, her head reaching Ski's cheek. She was all curves and simmering heat, and he'd really been hoping she'd take the job so he would have the opportunity to get to know her a little better. To find out if there was more behind that shy smile and those big blue eyes.

“I really wish you'd reconsider,” he tried again. “You're kind of our only hope among the local Clans.”

“Oh. I didn't realize that, but . . . no.”

She eased past him as that idiot Siggy Kaspersen laughed.

Ski locked on Kaspersen, but Gundo was the one who rammed his foot into the man's chair, sending both flipping across the lawn.

The Ravens were up, including Ludvig Rundstöm, one of the most feared Vikings among all the Clans. He came from a long line of killers, his bloodline reaching back as far as Ski's, their ancient kin fighting through the ages.

But before anyone could do any more, Kera slammed her hands against the table. “
That is enough!
” she bellowed.

“Oh, come on,” Amsel pushed. “Let 'em fight.”

“Shut up. And no one's fighting.”

“This has nothing to do with the Crows,” Stieg Engstrom explained, his eyes still on Ski. “This is Raven business.”

“But you're on Crow land.”

“Nice!” Amsel patted Kera's arm. “Look at you getting the hang of all this political bullshit.”

Kera's face lit up. “Not bad, right? I just thought of that!”

“Stay out of this, Kera,” Engstrom warned.

In reply, Kera called out, “Brodie.”

And from that pile of black crows in the middle of the back lawn—which Ski had thought was very odd, but had chosen to ignore—something rose, the crows still holding on. It took a moment for Ski to realize that in the midst of all those birds had been a dog. A big pit bull. It shook itself, the crows squawking in protest as they flew off. Then it yawned, and began walking over to the small group.

Stieg Engstrom looked over at Kera. “Am I supposed to be scared of your dog?” he asked.

Kera replied by raising her eyebrows, and when Engstrom looked back, the dog was suddenly right in front of him . . . eye to eye.

Shocked, Ski gawked at the dog. It had wings. Crow wings. How was that even possible? And now that unholy thing hovered in front of Engstrom, cold dog eyes locked on him, front paws pressed against his chest.

“Okay, but I don't—”

The dog growled, leaning in close to Engstrom.

“I get it, I'm just saying—”

The dog leaned in even closer, teeth bared this time, low growl still rolling along.

Engstrom gave up. “Fine!”

Hearing the answer it apparently wanted—which alone was disturbing Ski on all sorts of levels—the dog lowered itself to the ground, its wings disappearing beneath its thin fur. Head high, tail up, it turned around, and took off after the puppy that Ski just realized Jace had gone to play with. The three of them ran around the yard, Jace laughing, the two dogs barking, until they disappeared around a corner.

“Well, after that,” Gundo finally said, turning on his heel, “I won't be sleeping tonight.”

J
ace had just opened her book—
Germinal
by Émile Zola. A wonderfully depressing tome about a mining town. When Jace wanted to relax, she looked for books that would make most people suicidal. But for Jace . . . The darker, the better. But before she could get past the first paragraph, Erin's head suddenly appeared in the nearby opening. Erin had always been one of the few Crows who could find Jace no matter where she might have hidden herself.

Like under the house.

“Hey.”

Jace bit back her desire to tell her very dear friend to “go the fuck away” and instead said, “Hey.”

“Rachel's looking for you.”

Jace frowned. Rachel was looking for her? Rachel? A former bodybuilder and now a Crow clearly hoping to be Clan leader one day, Rachel usually left Jace alone. She thought of her as “trouble. Because she can't control that fucking rage of hers.”

Which was kind of funny coming from her, since in her bodybuilder days, Rachel took copious amounts of steroids until she became a rage-a-holic, which eventually led to the death that landed her here. She was great in combat, but in day-today situations, Jace would rather work with Satan himself than deal with Rachel.

Unlike Chloe, Rachel simply didn't know how to adjust to different personalities and temperaments. She thought all the Crows should act the same way . . . like her.

“Why?”

“I guess she heard about last night. It seems she's concerned.”

Jace rolled her eyes and begged, “Kill me now.”

“She's gonna track you down. So, you wanna come with me?”

“Where are you going?”

“Food shopping. For Kera's party.”

Jace rolled her eyes again, now annoyed for a different reason. “Seriously?”

“Come on, it's great! She's such a sucker. I could fuck with her all day.”

And clearly that was Erin's plan. To fuck with poor Kera all day long. Because the caterer had been called, arrangements made, invitations sent out. The party was going to be exceptional, but Erin was ready to convince the poor newbie of all sorts of ridiculous shit. For no other reason than she could. Because that's what Erin did. She fucked with people. Happily.

All day long.

“Besides, if you come, she'll believe it.”

“I'm not lying for you.”

“You don't have to. Just don't talk, which you barely do anyway.”

“Is she over there?” Rachel demanded a few feet away.

Erin stood and Jace heard her say, “No. She's not here.”

“You're such a bad liar, Amsel.”

Actually, Erin was a great liar, but she'd been among the Crows long enough for all of them to know when she was lying.

Rachel's very large head appeared. “You're under the house?” she demanded, because Rachel demanded everything. “Why are you under the house? Maybe you need therapy.”

“She doesn't need therapy.” Erin pushed Rachel over a few centimeters—about all she could manage with a woman that large and unwilling to move—and stuck her hand out for Jace to grab. “She's fine.”

“You're not helping by coddling her.”

Jace grabbed Erin's hand and let the smaller woman yank her out from under the house. Lev, who'd been resting against her leg, trotted out after her, briefly stopping to bark at Rachel. The little guy already knew who bugged Jace the most and acted accordingly.

Rachel glared down at the puppy. “Are you actually keeping this thing?”

Jace tossed her book aside and quickly scooped Lev into her arms. She wasn't giving up her dog. She didn't care what anyone said. Lev would stay.

Jace quickly took off after Erin, but Rachel decided to follow them.

“You have to get control of this rage, Berisha.” Rachel was a big fan of using everyone's last name. As if they were in the military. Even Kera, who had been in the military, didn't do that here. Of course, her brain hadn't been addled by past steroid use. “You can't just go around blowing up our assignments because someone pisses you off.”

They were near one of the outside patios, where a group of unemployed actor-Crows were sitting around, chatting about Hollywood jobs they
hoped
to get.

Erin, still walking, grabbed Lev from Jace's arms and tossed him to the first Crow she saw.

“Hey!”

“He'll be fine.”

And he was. Jace's sister-Crow caught the puppy and grinned, holding him close. “I'll walk him with Brodie later today,” the Crow promised as Erin grabbed Jace's arm and hauled her inside.

But Rachel was still on their heels. And still talking.

“You can't ignore this, Berisha. It's become a problem.”

Jace wasn't about to argue with the woman. Arguing with Rachel took a special kind of patience that Jace didn't have. A special kind of patience she didn't
want
to have.

They cut through the house and were near the front door.

Rachel was reaching out to put her hand on Jace's shoulder when a fist punched it out of the way and Kera stepped between them.

“Leave her alone.”

“Maybe you should stay out of this, Watson.”

“Maybe you should make me.”

Jace didn't want a fight to happen between Kera and Rachel. They'd already had their problems, and the bottom line was, they simply didn't get along.

Not every Crow got along with other Crows. Like the birds themselves, there was always in-fighting. It was in their nature to be kind of dicky. But in-fighting among their own didn't mean they didn't have each other's backs when it came to outsiders. Crows who had been known to hate each other personally, would often risk their lives for their enemy sister.

“Loyalty unto death to our sister-Crows,” was one of their oldest mottos. But when there was no outside battle to distract them, trouble could easily explode inside the Bird House.

Jace didn't want that.

Ever since they'd first met, Kera had been very protective of Jace. Jace had no idea why, but it didn't offend her the way Rachel's concern did.

Or maybe it was just Rachel herself who offended her. The woman could be truly offensive without much effort on her part.

“Kera,” Jace attempted to soothe, “it's okay.”

“No. It's not okay,” Erin said. “Get her, Kera!”

Instead of following Erin's ridiculous order, both Kera and Rachel glared at the petite redhead.

“What is wrong with you?” Rachel asked.

“Actually . . . nothing. I'm amazing. And beautiful. And charming. And
sassy
.”

Jace snorted out a laugh. This was why she'd put up with Erin all this time. Her insanity had a way of diffusing bigger problems. True, she could be annoying, but she had a way of making it all work out in the end.

“Now, come on, Kera. Let's get you some Cheez Whiz and crackers for your party!”

Flabbergasted, Kera faced Erin. “Cheez Whiz? Seriously? I got a better send-off from the Marines.”

“What did they do?” Jace asked.

“Nothing. They did absolutely nothing because they figured I'd be back. Surprisingly, the whole stabbed-to-death-then-taken-by-a-goddess thing didn't really occur to my COs.”

Erin put her hands on her hips, shook her head. “How can you be against Cheez Whiz? As an
American
?”

“God, I hate you,” Kera complained before yanking the front door open and walking out.

Laughing, Erin followed and Jace realized they'd left her alone with Rachel.

When the bigger woman opened her mouth to speak, Jace skittered out the door, slamming it behind her.

“This isn't over, Berisha!” Rachel yelled after her.

“What is that woman's problem?” Kera asked Jace as they walked toward the big circular driveway.

“She just worries about me.”

“She obsesses about you,” Erin corrected. “For a while there, she was obsessed with Kera. But then Kera became a soulless killing machine after her time in Asgard—”

“Gee, thanks.”

“—so now she's back on poor Jace. Like a tiny, weak mouse who can't get away from the big, former steroid-using house cat.”

Jace stopped. “I am
not
a mouse.”

“Rat?”

Kera shook her head. “You know, Erin, it amazes me that no one has killed you a second time.”

“I know, right? And the best part? They can't kill me the same way!”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“What killed me the first time was being shot in the head. Someone shoots me in the head again . . .” She shrugged. “Nothing except a headache and annoyance. And if someone tries to stab you in the chest again, chances are the knife will break?”

“That's just weird. Why do you tell me weird things?”

“It's weird, but also exceptionally cool. Skuld doesn't want you dying the same way twice. Think about it . . . that would be embarrassing if you died the same way you died the first time. Or if I got shot in the head again. Or if Jace died . . . the way she was originally killed. Whatever way that was.”

All the Crows knew it had been Jace's ex who'd killed her the first time but no one asked for details. Maybe they just didn't want to know.

“You can't tell me that's not a great thing.” Erin stopped walking and gestured to the car she'd chosen to go shopping in.

Kera gazed at it. “A Chevrolet Impala convertible?” she asked.

“Very good eye.”

“Does it bounce up and down, too?”

“Racist.”

“Can we be a little less LA about this? And take a nice,
sensible
car to the store?”

 

Erin parked the Hummer in the grocery store parking lot, making sure to take up two spots before jumping down from the driver's seat. When she came around the front, Kera was already standing there, glaring.

“
This
is a nice, sensible car?”

“In Los Angeles . . . yes.”

Jace walked by the pair, eyes practically rolling out of her head.

Erin knew the quiet woman would rather be back under the Bird House, reading her book and rubbing her puppy's belly, but that was not to be. Anytime she went full-rage during a battle, there was some kind of blowback for several days following the episode. Not from Chloe. She appreciated having a berserker on her team. But from a few of the others. Although Erin didn't know why. The ones who had a problem with it, like Rachel, weren't even part of their strike team.

Rachel had her own damn team to manage, so why did she insist on fucking with theirs? Was her life really that boring?

Grabbing two carts, the three women worked their way through the store, Erin making sure to buy the most cliché, cheapest, ridiculous crap she could find for Kera's “party.”

None of it did she plan to use. And, in the end, she'd probably give it all to some homeless shelter. But seeing the look of disappointment and insult on Kera's face kind of made Erin's day.

Okay. So maybe her life was that boring, too. Because there was nothing she loved better than messing with the former Marine. She was just so serious about damn near everything, fucking with her was all sorts of entertaining for Erin.

Grabbing several bags of the most generic, plain, cheap tortilla chips she could find, Erin dropped them into her filled cart and announced, “Okay. That's it.”

“Gee,” Kera said flatly. “Really?”

“I think we have more than enough. I mean . . .” Erin blew out a breath like she was thinking really hard. “I know our strike team is coming. And a few of the other Crows said they'd
try
to make it. I think you invited Vig, and of course he'll be there because he kind of has to . . . so, yeah. I think we have enough.”

Kera looked at Jace. “Seriously?” she demanded. So insulted, that one.

Jace stared at Kera for a few seconds before shrugging her shoulders and pushing the cart toward the checkout stands.

See? That's why Erin didn't have a problem with Jace's silence. Who needed someone chatty when silence often worked so well in Erin's favor?

Erin paid for the food and they made it to right outside the store before Kera stopped Erin. “Maybe we should cancel this thing. It sounds like no one's coming. It's gonna be lame.”

“Oh stop! It'll be fine. Right, Jace?”

Jace gazed at both women, eyes darting back and forth before she gave a forced, closemouthed smile and pushed her cart toward the Hummer.

“You can't force me to go through with this. You can't!”

“You owe it to your sister-Crows,” Erin told her.

“You mean the ones who aren't coming?”

“They'll try!”

Kera's eyes narrowed and Erin was sure the woman would finally spot what bullshit this all was, but then her head turned and her expression went suddenly blank.

“Hey,” she said, tapping Erin's arm. “Who's Jace talking to over there?”

Erin looked toward the Hummer. Jace stood by the passenger door. She no longer had the cart, and it looked as if she'd put the purchases in the back.

There were four of them. Three women and a man. The females stood around her while the male spoke.

“I don't know who they are. Don't recognize them.”

“Does she have friends outside the Crows?”

“Not if she can help it. Maybe they're trying to sell her something.”