The Unleashing Read online

  “I could take care of that for you. If you want.”

  “You mean like some prison tattoo?” She pulled away. “No thanks.” She stopped, glanced at Erin. “Wait, are you a tattoo artist?”

  “Yeah. Really good at it, too.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  Erin patted her shoulder. “Just a suggestion, but you may want to hold back on the judgmental stuff until you get to know us all a little better.”

  The glass from the French double doors the new girl had destroyed had already been cleaned up and a call to replace them had most likely already been made. But for now there was a big hole there, so they walked through and outside, stopping a moment so the new girl could take it all in.

  “Un-believe-able.”

  “Nice, right?”

  “Does all this—?”

  “Belong to the Crows? Yes.”

  “I didn’t think anyone in Los Angeles had this kind of property. You even have a forest back here.”

  “We do. But we bought this property back in 1932 when the first Crows came out here. I think they paid, maybe, twenty-five grand for the entire thing.”

  The new girl’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You are kidding?”

  No matter how stoic or stalwart a person might be, the one way to get a reaction out of a Southern Californian was to shock them with talk about Los Angeles real estate.

  “But I brought you baklava!”

  Erin and the woman looked at each other then walked over to the pool area near the new girl’s window. That’s where they found Chloe and Josef Alexandersen. And yeah, he did have a box of baklava.

  The new girl shook her head and sighed, returning her gaze to the yard. “Christ, my dog could be anywhere.”

  Erin gestured. “Or he—”

  “She.”

  “She could be right over there.”

  The new girl glanced to her right, her lip curling in disgust. “Seriously?” she demanded of the dog once she’d stomped over poolside and stared down at it, stretched out on its back on the deck recliner beneath a standing umbrella. On either side of the dog were two Crows, both on their phones, chatting away with whomever, while they rubbed the dog’s exposed belly.

  “Comfortable?” the new girl asked her dog. And, if Erin didn’t know better, she’d swear the dog grinned at her.

  One Crow ended her phone call and smiled. “Is she your dog?”

  “Yes.”

  “My God, she is so sweet. I just love her! Chloe never let us have a dog here. Insurance, she says. Not sure I believe her. I think she just doesn’t like dogs.”

  The other Crow ended her call and tossed the phone onto a small table. “Chloe doesn’t like much of anything.”

  “We’re going running later, can we bring your dog along?”

  The new girl studied the other women a moment before asking, “And what’s your experience walking dogs?”

  Erin immediately looked at her sister-Crows.

  “Our . . . experience?” one asked. “Um . . . I had a dog when I was a kid? I walked him. It was one of my chores.”

  “Is your dog vicious?” the other asked. “She doesn’t seem vicious.”

  “She has a high prey drive. Cats, raccoons, all small animals just look like something to hunt down and kill to her. But that’s not the point.”

  “I didn’t think so,” Erin said low, rubbing her nose.

  “Having a dog,” the new girl explained, placing her arms behind her back and pacing in front of the Crows, “is a major responsibility.”

  “Of course—”

  “But Brodie isn’t just a dog. She’s a pit bull. So when you’re out walking her, you’re not just representing dogs . . . you’re representing all pit bulls and pit bull owners, and because of that, one has to be more responsible with a pit bull or rottweiler or Doberman or any other powerful dog.”

  “Because we represent all pit bulls?”

  “Yes.”

  “Brodie?” one sister asked.

  “Brodie Hawaii. Because one day we’re both going to live in Hawaii.”

  There was laughter. “Yeah, good luck with that. Everybody wants to be in the Hawaii Crows . . . because they’re in fuckin’ Hawaii. You gotta get in line for that deal.”

  “Hey, Erin,” one sister asked, “why are the Ravens here?”

  “I sense another restraining order on the horizon,” sighed another.

  “Who are the Ravens?” the new girl asked. “Were they the ones that attacked me last night?”

  “No. Those were the Giant Killers.”

  She cringed at the name. “Giant Killers? Really?”

  “That’s Thor’s Clan and if there’s one thing about that asshole . . . it’s that he kills a lot of giants.”

  “It’s all over the Eddas,” a sister noted between sips of her orange juice.

  “The Eddas?”

  “Basically the main book on Viking mythology . . . and one of the most confusing. Anyway, in the Eddas, it seemed that one of the main things Thor did was kill giants. Male giants. Female giants. Children. If they were giants, Thor was killing them.”

  “You’re talking about Thor with the hammer?” The new girl frowned. “Huh. You’d think those hammers would have been heavier then.”

  “It took four of us,” Erin told her, “to drag those fucking hammers into the house.”

  “So you’re all kind of weak?”

  Erin stared directly at her. “No. We’re not.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. “I don’t think I understand.”

  “Most of us get a special skill all our own when we’re brought back by Skuld,” Erin explained. “Apparently yours is strength. Massive strength.”

  The new girl’s brown eyes clouded and she glanced off.

  “Let me guess,” Erin suggested, “you were fighting off whoever eventually killed you and while it was happening you kept thinking, ‘If only I was stronger. If only I had the power to break his neck.’ ” The way the new girl stared at her, Erin knew she was right. “And, if you’re really angry when you have that thought, really, seriously, tear-the-world-apart angry, and you go to Skuld like that . . . it changes everything.”

  “Erin is right,” a sister suddenly cut in. “When my car flew off that bridge after being hit by that drunk driver, I remember thinking, ‘I wish I could fly away from here. Really fast.’ Now I can fly really fast and really far,” she bragged.

  “You can fly? That’s impressive.”

  “Like, last week, I went to Paris for a day . . . then flew back the following night. None of the other Crows can fly that fast. You won’t be able to fly that fast.”

  The new girl stared at the Crows for a moment before asking, “I can fly?”

  “We can all fly and, even cooler sometimes, we all have talons.” She held up her hand. “We can call them up whenever we need to.”

  “Are you going to show her your talons?” Erin finally asked.

  “I just got my nails done. I don’t want to ruin the color. Anyway, where do you think we got the name Crows from?”

  “That’s not the only reason we got the name Crows,” Erin reminded them.

  “How else did you get the name?”

  But before Erin could explain, she placed her hand on the new girl’s arm and shoved her over a step—two seconds later a box of baklava flew by her head.

  The new girl nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Welcome.”

  “I don’t understand what’s really happening,” Kera finally admitted to the redhead.

  “You’re receiving California-style entertainment for free. Usually you have to watch reality TV for this kind of thing.”

  “Why do they hate each other?”

  “Because they used to love each other and have sex. Now they loathe each other with the burning fire of a thousand suns.” The redhead grinned. “Let me tell you, the one thing Los Angeles does well, besides movies and plastic surgery . . . divorce.”

  Kera stared at the wo
man. “Who are you?”

  “Erin Amsel. Originally from Staten Island. But I got killed here, so . . . there you go.”

  “You could have just given your name, but . . . okay. My name’s Kera. Kera Watson.” She touched the back of her neck. It was sore. “Why is my neck burning?”

  “Because you’re now branded with the sign of Skuld. Her rune.” The redhead turned, lifted her hair off the back of her neck. “It’s called the Naudhiz rune.”

  It resembled a five-inch, pitch-black slightly askew cross. It wasn’t ugly, but Kera hadn’t known she’d be branded. She wasn’t really comfortable with that at all, but it was a little late to start complaining, wasn’t it?

  “After a while,” she said, turning back around, “you won’t even notice it’s there. It’ll be a part of you, like your tats.”

  Kera didn’t know how true that was, but she didn’t debate the point. Instead, she watched the couple continue to argue.

  “None of the other Clans trusts the Crows as it is!” the male screamed. “I’m trying to help you!”

  “How many . . . groups are there?” Kera asked.

  “Clans. They’re called Clans. And there are nine official Clans.”

  “Official Clans?”

  “Clans that are considered valid by the gods. We have automatic entry into Valhalla upon death and are expected to fight during Ragnarok. Although even before the Crows were one of The Nine, we had automatic entry into Valhalla. Skuld promised us that and she never breaks her promises to us.”

  “She sounds . . . nice.”

  The redhead grinned. “She ain’t that nice. And she don’t promise shit often. Remember that so you won’t get your feelings hurt.”

  A very handsome man walked over to them, hands in his front jean pockets, shoulders hunched a bit like he was uncomfortable with his lofty height.

  “Hey, Erin.”

  “Hey, Rolf.” She pointed at Kera. “Rolf, this is the new girl.”

  “Hey, new girl.”

  “I have a name.”

  Handsome Rolf nodded at that before focusing back on Erin. “So I heard you had some visitors.”

  “Freakin’ Killers.” The redhead’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know, Rolf Landvik?”

  “Word is Frieda lured the Crows out of the house with Skuld’s ring because she believes the Crows stole some knife or other from the Killers. They’re being real dramatic about it. I heard they even went to The Silent about it.”

  Erin rolled her eyes, but Kera had no idea why. That sounded like a rather large concern for all involved.

  “Why does everyone think we take their stupid crap?” Erin asked. “We have enough of our own stupid crap.”

  “Because you’re Crows and your namesakes steal.”

  “So do Ravens.”

  “But we look more majestic when we do it. Y’all just look like thieves.” He glanced at Kera, then asked Amsel, “Do you guys have equipment for the new girl?”

  “Again . . . I have a name. Three, actually. First, middle, and last.”

  “We need new blades for her. The last set we gave to Ginny, I think.”

  “If you want, I can take the new girl to see Rundstöm. He can set her up with whatever she needs.”

  Amsel leaned back, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

  “Just trying to be helpful. I mean, Ravens . . . Crows. It’s like we’re brothers and sisters.”

  Amsel glanced over at the two leaders. They were still screaming while a small group was keeping them physically apart.

  “Yes,” Amsel said with a ton of sarcasm. “We’re all so very close. I’ll take her to see Rundstöm myself.”

  “Okay. He’s there now.”

  “Why are you pushing?” Amsel asked.

  “I’m not pushing. Just suggesting.”

  “Let’s go.” Kera, bored by watching the ex-marrieds arguing—she’d been there, done that, she didn’t need the PTSD that came with watching some other couple doing the same thing—nodded and announced, “I need to shower first. I’ll be down in seven minutes.”

  “You don’t have to rush,” Amsel told her as Kera walked away.

  “That’s not rushing. That’s efficiency.”

  “Efficiency.” Rolf grinned as they watched Kera Watson walk into the house. “She’ll fit in well here.”

  “Your sarcasm is duly noted.”

  “Come on. The ex-military ones are the best.”

  “Yes. Rigid and unyielding.”

  “If it bothers you so much, let someone else take her on.”

  Erin winced a little at that. “Nah. I’ve been assigned as her mentor. I think I’m being tested.”

  “For what?”

  “I think Tessa and Chloe have bigger plans for me.” Rolf’s frown deepened. “For what?”

  “Gee. Thanks Rolf.”

  “No offense. I just mean . . . well . . . it’s you.”

  Erin tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrows.

  “What I mean is,” Rolf desperately went on, “I guess I just didn’t . . . it’s just that . . .” He shrugged his shoulders. “I really didn’t think you’d last here. I never thought you’d fit in.”

  “With the Crows?”

  “Dear God, no. You’re totally a Crow. You’re like a poster child for the Crow lifestyle. No, I mean, you never seemed to fit into the L.A. milieu, so to speak.”

  “Because I don’t use words like ‘milieu’? And phrases like ‘so to speak’?”

  “Sometimes, yeah.”

  Erin really could have ended up anywhere. She was born and raised in Staten Island, New York. But she’d done a lot of traveling once she’d hit eighteen. She’d seen a lot of the world. And could have died anywhere, leading her to end up with any of the Crows based in other countries or in other states.

  Yet the gods had been kind. They’d made sure she’d been killed here. In Southern California. And she couldn’t be happier.

  Why?

  She didn’t need to ask why. Not when she watched Chloe start screaming “Asshole!” over and over again at Josef.

  She did this out of frustration because she couldn’t get her hands around her ex’s throat. Not with his Raven brothers there to ensure no more arrests.

  So many arrests.

  “You are insane!” Josef screamed over Chloe’s yelling. “Do you realize how insane you are?”

  Rolf sighed and turned away from the screaming and back to Erin. “So did the new girl really deal with the Killers using their own hammers?”

  “Yeah. She really did.”

  “Impressive. Was she really naked, too?”

  Erin snorted. “Yes, Rolf. She was really naked, too.”

  “That’s so hot.”

  “Is there an actual reason you’re standing here talking to me?”

  “The healing glow of your effervescent personality?”

  Erin ran her hand down Rolf’s shoulder. “Please don’t make me set you on fire.”

  He quickly shook her off and took several safe steps away. “Just figured I could assist you with Rundstöm when you go to get her weapons.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Everyone knows it’s never a good idea to take this particular Brother Raven by surprise.”

  “Yeah . . . and?”

  “So I’m confirming your presence at his abode.”

  “At his what?”

  “House, woman.”

  “I said we were going.”

  “See? That wasn’t hard to answer, now was it?”

  “Not hard,” Erin told him as she walked toward the house to get changed. “Just annoying.”

  “Can I talk to you in private?” Josef suddenly asked Chloe.

  It sounded more like a demand to her, so she replied, “Not unless I can tear the eyes from your head.”

  “Jesus Christ, Chloe!”

  “All right, all right. Fine. We’ll talk in private.”

  Chloe headed back into the house but Tessa jumped in front of her
. “Chloe, wait.”

  “This is Clan business,” Josef told Chloe’s second in command. “Out of the way.”

  “It’s like you want me to hurt you and then you bitch when I do,” Chloe complained. She looked at Tessa. “It’s all right, Tee. We’ll be fine.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Tessa stepped out of the way, and Chloe walked into the house and to her office. She opened the door and waited for Josef to come in, then slammed the door shut.

  “All right, what do you want?”

  “The Giant Killers were in here last night because they thought you stole something from them.”

  “You know what?” Chloe asked as she walked around her desk. “That is such fucking bullshit.”

  “It better be.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “They got something important taken from them, I’m not sure what. But there’s a lot of Thor’s power behind it, so he’s not happy.”

  “We don’t have anything of theirs. We have our own shit to deal with.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Chloe gritted her teeth. “Yes. I am sure.”

  “Don’t snarl at me, Chloe. It was just a question.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t, but Rundstöm was all freaked out about it.”

  Chloe jerked a little. Of all the Ravens who might care what happened to the Crows, Ludvig Rundstöm was the last person she’d think of. Ever.

  “What does he have to do with it?”

  “I don’t know. But the Killers can cause you problems.”

  “After what the new girl did to them last night, they may want to stay the fuck away from us.”

  “Look, I’m just giving you a heads-up. A lot of shit has gone missing from the other Clans. Important shit. And they’re all looking at you guys.”

  “Of course they are! Why would they look at anyone else? It has to be us. It has to be the dirty, nasty, multi-ethnic Crows.”

  “It’s not about race, Chloe. They just don’t like you. As people. And let’s face it. You wallow in their dislike. You love it.”

  Yeah. She kind of did.

  “If you want my suggestion—”

  “I so don’t.”

  “—I’d call a meeting of the Clans. Get this shit out in the open.”