CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Tessa walked into the Bird House a little after 10 a.m. She hadn’t stayed long at the party. She had a husband and kids at home, and getting shitfaced drunk at parties was not something she could do as casually as she once had.
She might have regretted feeling that way, except for the bodies littering the floor of her secondary home.
None of them were dead. Just drunk and hung over.
Putting down her backpack, she began the process of getting non-Crows out of the house. First, she rounded up the well-known ex-drinkers who’d given liquor up for their own personal reasons, and she sent them off to get everyone up the old-fashioned way . . . by kicking and punching them until they got out.
While they took care of that, Tessa placed a call to her favorite cleaning company. They were not shifters like the caterers and security people, but they were used to keeping things quiet. As many assassins in the Southern California area knew, these cleaners could keep quiet, bury bodies, and they did windows, too!
Once she put in the order for an immediate housecleaning—with a warning about vomit and other possible hazardous wastes—she started off down the hall toward Chloe’s office.
As Tessa passed the playroom, she found a few other sister-Crows who didn’t let drink get to them awake, watching TV, and devouring big bowls of cereal.
Deciding to let them finish their breakfast before she put them to work, Tessa kept walking, but she froze as soon as she made it past the room.
Not sure she’d seen what she’d thought she’d seen, she took several steps back until she could view the TV again.
“Tessa?” one of her sister-Crows asked, her voice trembling, milk dripping from the corners of her mouth.
With a panicked head shake, Tessa ran down the hall and opened Chloe’s door. Their leader was already sitting at her desk and working.
“Good,” Chloe said. “You’re here. I need you involved in this thing today with the funeral and checking out . . .” Chloe leaned back in her chair when she saw Tessa’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“You . . . you . . .” Shaking her head, Tessa just motioned to Chloe with her hand.
Chloe came out of her chair and quickly followed Tessa back down the hall to the playroom. They stepped inside, and the other Crows stared at Chloe without saying a word.
Chloe looked around the room, but when her gaze caught what was on the TV, she froze, her mouth slowly falling open.
“Oh shit.”
Josef hung upside-down from a 405 Freeway overpass, wearing only his boxer briefs and the red paint on his chest that read, “I like strippers!”
Chloe pointed at the TV. “This is just . . . from someone’s computer or whatever . . . right?”
“It’s on the news. Every local station has it.”
“Oh shit.” Chloe began to panic. “Oh shit!”
“Calm down. We can fix this.”
“In what way can we fix this?”
“Cops and firemen have arrived,” another Crow announced. “Cops look pissed, too.”
“Is he dead?” Chloe asked.
“No. He’s breathing. But he’s out cold.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God!”
“Yeah,” Tessa admitted. “It would be better if he was dead.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
Ski didn’t get up when he heard the bedroom door open, whispers, and then squeals that had him wincing as Jace scrambled out of bed, grabbed clothes, and disappeared into the hallway with that dog tucked under her arm.
She closed the door behind her, so Ski went back to sleep.
Sometime later, she’d returned, smelling like several different wonderful things. Mostly flowers and some fruit. He recognized one as a conditioner he’d once used. That’s when he knew she’d showered and used all sorts of different products to clean and then moisturize her body and hair.
She kissed him on the lips and whispered, “Gotta work.”
“You do know it’s Sunday, right?”
“Ha-ha.” She kissed him again. “Stay as long as you want. I left a towel and toothbrush for you to use. The boys’ bathroom is down the hall to the right.”
“The boys’ bathroom?”
“The one we have just for guys who stay over because those with penises are kind of gross.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She kissed him again, but before he could grab her and pull her back to bed, she was gone.
Yawning and sitting up, Ski realized a shower would be a good idea. He was still sticky from sweat and Jace. A realization that made him smile.
He wrapped the towel she’d left around his waist and walked down the hall to the “boys’ bathroom.” It was blue and had a urinal. But the shower was roomy and they had a ton of products to use that Tyr would be too cheap to ever consider buying.
After a wonderfully hot shower, Ski dried off, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and walked out the door. That’s where he found Vig Rundstöm.
The big Viking leaned back against the wall, cold, narrow eyes glaring at Ski through all that hair.
All Ski wanted to do was give the man a haircut, for no other reason than to let him see properly.
Knowing it would annoy him, Ski didn’t say anything. He just smiled, making sure to show all his teeth.
Those eyes managed to narrow more.
“Here.” Rundstöm held out his hand, big fingers wrapped around what appeared to be clothes.
Ski took them, looked them over. Black sweatpants, black T-shirt.
“Are these for me, Ludvig? How sweet!”
“Kera asked me to loan them to you. For her I make many great sacrifices.”
“Well, I appreciate it.”
“Shut up.”
“Am I the only one who has a problem with what happened?” Kera demanded.
“No,” Erin replied, holding an ice pack over the black and swollen eye and cheek left behind by a Killer female who’d knocked her out cold the night before. “But you’re the only one who cares enough to whine about it.”
They sat at the round glass table out on the back porch, eating breakfast while a work crew took care of scraping their house clean of the previous night’s festivities.
“I’m not whining. I’m expressing in clear, concise tones my feelings on this issue.”
Erin raised an eyebrow to Jace. “Whining.”
Jace hid her smile behind the almond croissant she was eating with two hands. Erin said she looked like a badger eating it.
“Is this something we do?” Kera asked. “Drugging and assaulting men?”
“No one assaulted him.”
“What would you call it?”
“Retribution.” Erin lowered the ice pack but when Jace cringed behind her croissant, she slapped it back against her face. “And we didn’t do it.”
“We didn’t?”
“No. The Alabama and Tri-State crews did it.”
“Which means what? That our hands are clean?”
“That’s exactly what it means. Are you expecting a guest, Jace?”
Jace lowered her treat. “Huh?”
Erin motioned behind her with a chin jerk.
Jace looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Hi, Gundo. I think Ski’s still upstairs.”
“I’m actually here to see you. Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” Jace placed the rest of her croissant on the plate and wiped her hands on her napkin.
“Don’t forget,” Erin reminded her. “We’ve gotta be ready to go in about an hour.”
“No problem.” Jumping out of her chair, Jace went back into the house.
“What’s up?”
Gundo smiled and took her hand, leading her toward the front door.
Erin finally lowered the ice pack, quickly realizing what she actually needed was some aspirin to help get rid of her headache. Although it really galled her she’d only had two drinks the whole night and yet she was in the same shape as her sister-Crows who’d passed out from liquor abuse.
“She’s happy,” she said to Kera. She was hoping to distract her from this ridiculous Josef discussion. Crows fucking with Ravens was as eternal as earthquakes in California.
“She’s not happy,” Kera replied, pouring herself one of her ridiculous giant mugs of coffee. The woman drank so much coffee. “She’s in love.”
Erin leaned back. “In love? After one night?”
“She’s a one-night kind of gal. You and I may be able to sleep with a guy one night then never see them again and never think about them again. But not our Jace. Trust me, she’s in love.”
“But what if he’s not in love?”
“Well—”
“If he’s not in love, too, he may hurt her. We should kill him now. Before he gets the chance.”
Kera threw up her hands. “What is wrong with you?”
Nothing, actually, but it was just so much damn fun to mess with the woman’s head.
“What’s going on?” Jace asked Gundo, letting him drag her through the halls.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise? What kind of surprise? It’s not weird, is it? I hate weird surprises.”
“No, no. Nothing weird. I think you’ll like it.”
Before reaching the front door, Gundo suddenly swerved into the same room where she’d met with the Claw Bystrom and the federal prosecutor, Jennings.
For one moment, Jace was worried she’d have to talk to Jennings again. Nothing had changed except that Jace was sure if Jennings pushed her to testify, her sister-Crows would kill her ex. Something she didn’t care about in a general sense, but she hadn’t been lying to Erin.
Her ex needed to stay alive; she simply didn’t know why yet.
But as they stepped into the room, Jace immediately recognized the petite woman who stood with her back to her, studying the books that lined the wall.
That white and gray bun messily put together at the back of her neck. The loose, flowing royal blue skirt that reached all the way to the floor and beyond. A skirt that petite body was drowning in. The light, off-white sweater with sleeves that nearly covered her hands and a hem that reached her knees. And those bright, white Keds on unbelievably tiny feet peeking out from under that ridiculous skirt.
After all these years, she still didn’t dress for the California weather. Or in the California style. As always, she went out of her way not to fit in. To defiantly remain different even though one could only hear her accent when she was truly angry.
Jace closed her eyes, trying her best to calm her racing heart. To get control of all her jumbled, panicked feelings and—
She heard the sound of that small hand cracking against her face long before she felt the acute pain of it.
Her eyes opened and her grandmother stood before her in all her five-foot glory, blue eyes glaring up at her.
“Two years,” Nëna growled at her. “Two years and you don’t come to see me?”
Gundo, shocked and now a little panicked by what he’d put into motion, attempted to step in but her grandmother snarled, “Get out,” and he left. Without question or a word, closing the door behind him. In about five minutes, Gundo would wonder why he’d done that, but he wouldn’t have a satisfactory answer.
“Well?” her grandmother pushed. “Why? Do you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you at all. I failed you and I couldn’t face the . . . stop slapping me!”
“You’re lucky I don’t sew your mouth shut for such idiotic words.” Arms wrapped around her waist, she began to pace the room. “How could you not come to see me? Instead you send that boy.”
“I didn’t send him, Nëna, and I never would have come to see you.”
“Like a dagger to my heart.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just telling you the truth.”
“You and your truth.”
Jace took a breath. “Things have changed, Nëna. Two years ago . . . I’m not . . . I . . .”
She couldn’t finish. She couldn’t keep going. How could she tell her grandmother about her Second Life? How could she tell her that truth?
“You are a foolish, foolish girl. Always were.”
The door opened again, and Kera and Erin rushed in. Alessandra and Leigh behind them. No one had called to them. They’d just known that something wasn’t right. They’d sensed it and they’d come to Jace’s aid.
Her grandmother looked at the four women already in the room; more were starting to rouse themselves and follow. Even in their hangover stupor they understood something was wrong in the Bird House.
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.
As he stepped closer to the bushes, Bear suddenly sat up.
Initially, Gundo thought his friend had simply had too much to drink and had passed out in the bushes. Except, he noted that Bear was naked.
“Where is she?” Bear asked.
“Where’s who?”
“The dog?”
Gundo recoiled. “Oh . . . Bear. The pit bull?”
“No! That’s disgust—” Bear closed his eyes, took a breath. “The woman. The shifter? Who could turn into an African wild dog?”
“Oh. Yes. Well, thank Tyr for that. Because there would be no explaining away—”
“I don’t even want to discuss that.” He looked around again. “Guess she left me.”
“It happens. Especially with shifters. They’re a very love-them-and-leave-them form of human being. As most wild animals are. But if we were Ravens or Giant Killers I would just congratulate you on getting laid.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, it’s just something they do.”
Bear nodded and then, abruptly, his head tilted and turned. He was tracking a sound.
Gundo heard it, too.
They gazed at each other for a moment, then followed what they heard around to the side of the house. The crows were in the trees, silently watching as the winged pit bull, her maw wrapped around the thigh of a man, dragged him all over the grass, shaking him.
Most likely attempting to get him to release the puppy he held. Jace’s puppy.
Gundo didn’t know this man and he wasn’t Clan. So who was he? And why was he holding Jace’s puppy? She wouldn’t like that; he knew that much. She was quite protective of that animal.
Bear started to move but Gundo held him back with his hand on his shoulder.
“Let me. You’re naked and might spook him.”
Gundo stepped close, and although the pit bull didn’t release the man, she did stop shaking him.
“She wants you to release that animal you’re holding. Here.” He held out his hands. “Give it to me.”
Sobbing and blubbering, the man handed the puppy over to Gundo.
“Thank you,” he replied before stepping away with the puppy tucked into his arms.
“Wait!” the man begged when the dog began to yank him again. “You said she’d stop.”
“No, I didn’t. I said she wanted you to release this puppy. You did.”
“You have to help me!”
Gundo shook his head. “No. I don’t. I can tell just by looking at you that you don’t belong here. And to be honest, you’re much better off getting your throat ripped out by the dog than being found by one of the ladies. They can be . . . unreasonable when it comes to invaders.”
The puppy licked his chin and Gundo smiled. “Come on, little one. Let’s get you back to the human who feeds you.”
As they walked toward the back of the house, ignoring the screams coming from behind them, Gundo held the puppy close to Bear’s face and asked, “Does seeing it make you forlorn for your lost doggy love?”
“I hate you.”
When the woman didn’t leave fast enough, the elderly one snapped her fingers at Leigh and the Crow immediately got the woman up and out into the hallway.
Ski put Jace on her feet. She’d already rebounded from her full-blown rage, something Ski had never seen before from her, and he turned her by the shoulders, leaning down to look her in the eyes. All he saw was the beautiful clear blue he adored. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She pulled away from him, faced the elderly woman. “Don’t do that to me again,” she ordered.
“Then learn to control yourself. It’s been two years.”
“Oh! You are—”
And then Jace was yelling at the woman in a language Ski did not understand. Albanian? Romanian? He had no idea. But the elderly woman was yelling back in the same language and he couldn’t deal with it. There was just too much going on.
“Everyone, stop it!” he barked.
Both women turned from each other, arms folded over their chests, each tapping one foot.
“By the missing hand of Tyr,” he gasped, suddenly understanding, “this is your grandmother, Jace?”
The elderly woman turned her head toward Ski. She sized him up with cold blue eyes before she reached out and placed her hand against his chest. He felt a jolt of unadulterated power shoot through him and his wings burst from his back, ramming into an already wounded Alessandra. She screamed and hit the wall, cursing up a blue streak as several Crows went to help her.
“Another Protector,” the woman sighed. “Just wonderful.” She pulled her hand away and Ski’s wings disappeared.
“How did you do that?” he asked.
“She’s obviously a witch of some kind,” Erin accused.
“Not a witch and watch your tone with me.”
“Or what?” Erin pushed, stepping forward, arms thrown wide.
“Are you really about to fight an old woman?” Ski asked, before adding, “No offense.”
“I am leaving,” the elderly woman replied, not sounding angry or upset so much as just annoyed by it all.
“Good!” Jace snapped back. “Go!”
If the woman heard her granddaughter’s tone, she ignored it. “In two weeks,” she said, “I’m having a family dinner. You will come, little inat. Bring this one.” She gestured toward Ski.
“Oh,” Ski said, truly pleased. “Thank you.” But his smile faded when Jace spun around to glower at him. “What? That was really nice of her to invite me.”
“I never said I was going.”
“You’ll come, little inat, or I’ll be back,” her grandmother warned. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we? And where’s that other Protector so he can take me back home.”
Before Ski could ask for more information, Gundo rushed in holding Jace’s puppy. He placed the animal in Jace’s arms and then charged after Jace’s grandmother, who’d already walked out.
That was around the time he noticed Bear standing there. Naked.
“Where are your clothes?”
“No idea. I think the dog took them.”
Kera, who’d been examining Alessandra’s poor face, asked over her shoulder, “Brodie took your clothes?”
“No. It was a human dog.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Well, get some clothes.”
“I thought you could just drive me to my house.”
“You do know that you’re not getting into my car naked, don’t you? You’ve known me for years. I should not have to explain that to you. That being said, we’re not going home. Yardley needs our assistance.”
“I do!” she said cheerfully. Way too cheerfully for a woman about to go to a funeral. “We have to leave soon.” She looked at her gold diamond watch. “Yeah. Soon. Although I don’t think Alessandra should go.”
“No,” Kera agreed. “She shouldn’t. Her nose is pretty bad and I think her cheek is broken.”
“I’ll take her to the medical room. You guys get ready.” Yardley placed her hands lightly on Alessandra’s shoulders, then looked at Ski and Bear, smiled, and said, “Thanks!” before she walked out with her sister-Crow.
Ski had to admit . . . her cheeriness was off-putting.
“I still need clothes,” Bear pointed out.
“I don’t think even Rachel’s clothes will fit you,” Erin replied. “At least not the pants. But her stuff might fit you in the shoulders.”
Kera pointed at her boyfriend and ordered, “Vig, give him your clothes.”
“I already gave the geek my clothes. Let me call some of my brothers to go with us, and the bookworms can go home.”
Erin smirked. “Most of your brothers are passed out in our basement by our Fate’s statue. And I swear to God, if even one of them pissed on her—”
“No one pissed on her,” Vig snapped back, but then he quickly muttered, “And we’ll clean it up if we did.”
“Clothes, Vig.” Kera smiled at the Raven. “Please.”
Growling, he walked out of the room.
“I think he wants you to follow,” Ski told Bear.
“He does? He didn’t say that.”
“Would you come on! Idiot!”
“Well,” Bear sighed, “I hear it now.”
He followed, and that was when Ski noticed that Jace was no longer standing there.
Ski looked around the room. “Jace?” He hadn’t seen her leave. So where had she gone?
Lips pursed, Kera stalked across the room and using her fist, banged on the top of a large wood cabinet. “Get out of there right this second!”
Kera reached down and snatched open the door to the cabinet, and that’s exactly where Jace was. Huddled inside with her puppy in her arms. The dog seemed to be handling the forced imprisonment quite well.
Ski crouched down and gazed at Jace. “What are you doing?” he had to ask.
“Just . . . relaxing. With my puppy.”
“Jace—”
“I don’t want to talk to anybody!”
“Most people just walk out of the room. They don’t stuff themselves and their dog into a cabinet as if they’re attempting to be smuggled out of the country.”
He held his hands out. “Give me that animal.”
“Can’t you call him by his name?”
“Jace.”
She handed Lev over and Ski held the dog in one hand and offered his other hand to Jace to help her out of the cabinet.
When she was standing, her fingers nervously brushing her curly hair behind her ears, Jace said, “Soooo . . . that was my grandmother.”
“Interesting lady,” Erin said softly.
Without even looking at her, Kera reached back and slapped Erin on the shoulder.
“Let’s understand,” Jace went on, “and I’ll only explain this once. My grandmother is not a witch or any variation thereof.”
“How is that possible?”
“Witches derive their power through worship, rituals, and sacrifice. My grandmother doesn’t. Instead, she’s an obtainer of knowledge. And what she obtains, she uses for power and control.”
“How?”
“With the power of her mind and sheer will. She worships no one, but knows practically everyone.”
Kera took a step back. “Is that why those archangels knew you?”
Erin smirked. “Archangels know you?”
“They called her Jacie-girl.”
“That’s so cute. Can I call you Jacie-girl now, Jace? I have wings.”
Jace held up her hand in front of Erin’s face to shut her up. “My grandmother is . . . unusual.”
“If she has so much power,” Erin asked, pushing Jace’s hand away, “then why didn’t she just come get you from the cult right away?”
“Because my mother said that if anyone tried, the first thing she’d do would be to slit my throat. She’d rather I die in her arms blessed by the Great Prophet than live in evil purgatory with my grandmother.”
“Nothing like a battle between a true believer and a true user.”
“Erin.”
“Don’t be mad at her, Kera. She’s right. My grandmother is a user. A very brilliant user. And exactly what the gods hate. She can use the power they dole out to others without ever giving them her love or fear. And she only uses her power when it benefits her or the family, never to help others. I love her, but this,” she said, gesturing to everyone in the room, “she does not and will not ever understand.”
“Why?”
“Because I chose.”
“She thinks you chose the cult?” Kera asked, flabbergasted. “You were ten!”
“No. My grandmother doesn’t blame me for any of that.”
Erin studied the spot where Nëna had been before guessing, “It was because you chose to be a Crow. To be one of us. You chose a god.”
Jace shrugged, feeling a little sad. “And for that I’m not sure she can ever forgive me.”