The Undoing (26 page)

“Of
course
cats are smarter than dogs. In what world did you think they weren't?”

Snarling, Jace scooted off the bed. “This discussion is over.”

Ski reached out and caught hold of her arm, yanking her back so that she landed on top of him.

Lev barked and snapped, baring his puppy fangs at Ski.

“Well,” he said, “that's something.”

“What's something?”

“He's protective of you. I like that. He might even be effective one day. You know, when he puts on another hundred pounds or so.”

“The vet says he'll probably be about fifty pounds.”

“Ech.”

“Stop,” she ordered, laughing. “He's a medium-sized dog. There's no shame in that.”

Ski put his arms around Jace's waist. “Are we going to spend the rest of our time together talking about this relatively useless dog and my amazing cat?”

“The rest of our time together?”

“I meant the rest of our time together tonight.”

“Oh.”

“Why? You don't want to see me after this?”

“I do. I like you. A lot. And I had a great time tonight. I mean, I'm in it for the long haul if you are.” She frowned. “I don't know how to read that smile. Are you mocking?”

“No. I'm just realizing how wrong I was about you in the beginning. You're not shy at all, are you?”

“No. I'm sometimes insecure and that's often misinterpreted as shyness. But if I truly want something, I'm going to go for it. And I want you.”

Ski tightened his grip around Jace's waist and rolled until he was on top of her. “Good.” He let out a long sigh when he felt Lev clamber to the top of his head and lie down. “We are going to have to do something about this, though.”

“Why?”

“I cannot fuck under these conditions, Jacinda. And I find your dismissive laughter offensive!”

T
essa 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.