The Undoing (11 page)

“Oh. I see.”

Bear placed the puppy on the ground. Then he ordered, loudly, “
Urinate!
”

“Uh . . .” Jace put her hand on his forearm. “You don't need to . . . order him to urinate. He'll do it. If he needs to. The . . . loudness of your voice might scare him.”

“Oh. I see.”

He faced Jace. “The cat defecates in a box.”

“Yes. I've never had a cat, but I do know that.”

“Dogs don't, though. And he's young. So you shouldn't leave him alone. He was whining. He sounded sad.”

“He was probably lonely. Wondering where I was.”

“You shouldn't leave him alone. Not in a new place.”

The smile broke across her face like a bright sun. “You're absolutely right, Bear. I shouldn't have left him alone.”

He suddenly looked her over. “I like your hair.”

“Thank you. Haldor did it.”

Bear nodded. “For the Viking festival.” He turned to Haldor, who had come up behind them. “I think this will work.”

“I think so, too.”

“He's done,” Jace said.

Bear reached down and picked the puppy up. He gazed at him with that expressionless face before noting, “I like him. He doesn't try to rip my face off.”

When Bear looked at Ski, Ski rolled his eyes and reminded him, “Then you shouldn't wake Salka up. You know she's not a morning cat.”

 

Kera stopped in front of the Protectors' house and turned off the engine.

“Your dog's breath stinks,” Erin complained.

Both Kera and Brodie gawked at her, mouths open.

“Rude,” Kera told her and Brodie barked in agreement. “And we didn't need you to come. We're just here to get Lev. Don't you have a job tattooing people?”

“Not until I'm done with your party.”

“The party that's going to suck?”

“That's the one!” Erin cheered before stepping out of the car.

“Why do I bother?” Kera sighed, but that's when Brodie rubbed her big pit bull head against Kera's jaw and neck.

Smiling, Kera kissed the top of her snout. “I love you, too, baby.”

Kera rolled the windows down all the way. “I'll be right back.”

When Kera stepped out of the car, Erin shook her head. “Leaving your poor dog in a hot car? She could
die
.”

“I can't bring her inside.”

“You'd let your dog
die
before you'd upset the Protectors?”

“Don't the Crows have enough enemies?”

“Don't you love your dog? Your poor, giant-headed dog?” Not liking that description of her head, Brodie leaned out and snapped at Erin.

“I meant it in the nicest way possible!”

Kera walked around the car and stuck her head in the back window. Brodie licked her nose.

“Do you want to come in, Brodie? Or are you okay here?”

Brodie leaned back, sitting regally with her snout up.

Kera walked past Erin. “See?”

“You do know that Skuld did more to that dog than just give it wings and that psycho metal muzzle, right?”

“Brodie is not an ‘it.' Brodie is a ‘she.' And I don't care what Skuld did. Brodie's here with me now and she's one of us. Besides. . . why don't you just admit you like her?”

“Because I don't. I'm more a cat person.”

“Liar. Cats hate you. They actively attack you.”

Kera reached the front door, Erin right behind her.

“I know. I can't even say it's because I'm a Crow. When I was eight, my aunt's old cat almost tore my lip off. I don't know why, though,” she added, smiling. “I am
such
a lovely person.”

“You know, you're actually not.”

Erin laughed and Kera raised her fist to knock on the door. That was when she realized the front door was open.

Grabbing Kera's arm and pulling it away from the door, Erin pushed the door all the way open.

“Why are we doing this?”

“Because we're nosy.”

“What is this ‘we' shit, white girl?”

Erin chuckled and walked into the house. Together they made their way down the big halls toward the library.

To Kera's surprise, no Protectors came out to greet them. Or, more accurately, stop them. From what she'd heard, the quickest way to get a Protector to rip your head off—literally—was to “invade” one of their precious libraries without permission. And that was the word they used. “Invade.”

But she and Erin walked on, seeing no one . . . until they reached the library. That was where they froze. Right outside the large double doors that stood wide open.

They froze and gawked. Looked at each other. Then gawked some more.

Because Kera really didn't know what was going on.

Wasn't life weird enough these days? Why did it keep getting weirder?

One big Protector was braiding Jace's hair. Intricate, pretty braids that looked straight out of some historical TV show where people get beheaded or poisoned and a king rules with an iron fist while his queen plots.

Standing around him were three more Protectors, giving him tips and pointing to a couple of books they held.

But that wasn't the weirdest part.

Another Protector, the one Kera knew they called Bear, had Jace's puppy around the waist, holding the dog up over his head and turning in a circle. As if he was showing Lev something. “This is not a room to poop in, puppy,” he announced . . . to the dog.

The
dog
.

“You shall not poop in this room. Nor shall you chew on anything. Or urinate.
You shall not urinate in this room!
”

He brought the puppy down and turned him around so he and Bear were eye to eye. “Do you understand me?” he asked . . . the dog.

The
dog.

Still not the weirdest part.

Another Protector, wearing latex gloves, carefully pulled old-looking books out of a big wood box and placed them on the table. When one of his brothers tried to touch a book, he slapped hands or punched stomachs and told them, “Until the Crow says you can touch, you don't touch.”

“I just want to look.”

“No.”

“But—”

“
I will kill you!
” the Protector bellowed.

Still not the weirdest.

The weirdest part? That was Jace.

Because Jace wasn't trying to find a table to crawl under or a car trunk to hide in. She wasn't actively trying to avoid all the weirdness.

And yet, Kera had seen Jace practically run from a room screaming when the Crows began to argue about some reality show they'd all been watching.

She wasn't doing that now. Instead, while some strange dude with absolutely gigantic hands braided her hair, she was playing. . . Scrabble.

She was also winning, the Protector she'd just beaten throwing his hands up in the air while several of his brothers politely applauded and laughed.

Bear put the puppy on the floor. “Now that you know the rules, I expect you to abide by them. Understand?”

The puppy barked and Bear seemed to take that as an acknowledgment and agreement to his terms. Did the man not realize Lev was just a dog and was probably barking because . . . well . . . because he was a dog?

“Good. Now go forth and try not to annoy.”

At that point, Kera looked at Erin and she shrugged her shoulders in reply.

They turned to leave and found Danski Eriksen standing behind them. Not only had he not made a sound as he'd moved up behind them—creepy enough, thanks—but he also had a large white cat on his head.

A cat.

On his
head
.

He smiled at them—at least that wasn't creepy—and said softly, “Lev will be fine.”

That was good enough for Kera. She nodded and walked around him, glancing back to see Erin move out of range of that cat's paw as it slashed at her, claws extended as much as possible.

Snarling, Erin turned toward the cat but before she could do or say anything, Kera grabbed her elbow and yanked her away and back down the hall.

When they reached the car, they both got in. Brodie was still in the backseat, her gaze bouncing back and forth between them.

After a moment of silence, Kera asked Erin, “Starbucks?”

She nodded. “Starbucks.”

And they headed out for a coffee and a few hours of analyzing what the holy fuck they'd just seen.

 

Yardley King, movie star, paparazzi favorite since her accidental sex tape, and Los Angeles Crow, sat in her trailer and waited until she heard the knock.

“Come in.”

Her agent's assistant opened the door and leaned in, smiling.

Yardley had to fight her desire to narrow her eyes in a show of obvious distrust, but she wanted to be better than that. It wasn't as if Brianna had done anything wrong. Not really.

She'd done what anyone in Hollywood would have done after their boss had apparently thrown herself out her office window. She'd taken over.

And yet . . . Brianna's boss wasn't just anybody. She was Betty Lieberman. An elder Crow. A mighty seer. And a kick-ass agent.

Betty had taken Yardley under her wing as soon as Yardley had woken up in the Bird House. Betty had not only handled Yardley's battle training, she'd managed her career. Taking her from a former teen star who, at that time, couldn't get a job to save her life to a fifteen-million-per-film movie star in little more than three years with a whole redemption story attached.

She'd shown Yardley the ropes among the Hollywood vipers and the local Vikings. She'd taught her how to read a room at a media event and how to rip off a face with her talons while leaving her victim still breathing.

Betty had been like a mother to her. Actually, she'd been better than Yardley's own mother, who'd been the one to pin Yardley down on her bed and shove a copious amount of drugs down her throat until she'd overdosed. But that was a long story she really didn't want to get into.

Instead, she just wanted Betty back, but Yardley was contractually trapped here while one of her closest friends was in some kind of a weird coma.

And Yardley didn't believe for a second that Betty had tried to kill herself. Because that woman wouldn't give anyone in the industry the satisfaction. Not Betty.

So then, what did happen? Yardley didn't know.

All she knew was that she was on this location shoot with this idiot director. An emotional mess of a man who had convinced the world he was an
auteur
.

Betty had warned her. Not by using her seer powers, either. Instead, she'd just said, “You really want to do this movie, sweetie . . . ? Because he's an idiot.”

Dammit, Betty had been right! As always, Yardley should have listened.

“How ya doin', hon?” Brianna asked, stepping into the trailer and closing the door behind her.

Yardley didn't like how familiar and comfortable Brianna had become lately, either. She didn't need the woman kissing her ass, necessarily. But Yardley would definitely prefer that Brianna not act like they'd been best friends since the beginning of time.

“The man's a mess,” Yardley immediately stated. “I mean . . . he's a mess, Brianna.”

“Yeah . . . I was just talking to the producer and all the double-talking . . . definitely an issue there.” She took a few steps closer and Yardley couldn't help but notice the copious amount of jewelry on the woman. She was sure that Brianna had given herself a much bigger salary than Betty had approved, but wow . . . that was a lot of gold. And diamonds. So many diamonds. “Is he really in a tent somewhere . . . crying?”

“Yes. He cries every day. Over nothing. The slightest hiccup and the man bursts into tears. This entire movie is a fucking disaster.”

“I heard the studio is going to bring another director in. They just have to work out a deal to get rid of this one.”

“I don't want to work with another director on this thing. I just want out.”

“But hon—”

“
Get me out of this
.”

“Well . . . you did sign a contract.”

Yardley stared at Brianna. The way Betty had taught her.

“Don't speak, sweetie,” Betty had always counseled. “Just stare . . . and wait. You have to be willing to wait. It freaks people out every time.”

So Yardley waited and, after several long minutes, Brianna finally threw up her hands and said, “Okay. I'll see what I can do. Why don't you just go back to the hotel?”

“Fine.”

“I'll call you later.”

Brianna left and Yardley's security team—several of her fellow Crows who were paid well to protect the one movie star who probably didn't need it—came in to help Yardley pack up. As far as she was concerned, she was out of here. If the media wanted to turn her into a diva over it . . . so what?

Thankfully, her sister-Crows knew how to get Yardley to lighten up. After only a few minutes, they had her laughing and talking about past boyfriends until sometime later, they heard a horrible scream.

Always Crows, they ran out of the trailer without thought to their own safety. Much of the film crew was running past her. Running away. Some people were screaming. Others crying. One big guy, some union driver, stopped, leaned over, and threw up.

Shocked, Yardley and the others pushed forward until the producer crashed into her, trying to push Yardley back.

“No, babe. You can't see this.”