The Unyielding

  Stieg looked at the black blood that had seeped into the rug and splattered the walls. “What are you going to tell them?”

  “Rich kids out of control. They made a run for it.” Smirking, the Claw motioned to the window. “Better fly, birdies.”

  Erin grabbed Stieg’s arm and walked to the window. She opened it and pushed him toward it.

  “Shouldn’t you go first?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be watching your back.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but simply pointed.

  Stieg decided not to push it and flew out the window.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jace closed another book that had provided no help and leaned back in her chair, sighing loudly.

  “You need to eat.” Ski leaned against the open doorway, watching her. The door had been redesigned a couple weeks prior.

  “Better security,” the Protectors had said as they watched the workers to ensure they didn’t, somehow, damage their precious books. The doors were glass and slid closed, hermetically sealing the room. Of course, as often as those doors were opened and closed, Jace doubted they protected much of anything, but she didn’t bother to point that out. Not now.

  Because right now it didn’t matter.

  These days, all the Clans seemed to be doing things to keep busy. The Protectors putting in new library doors. The Isa focusing on their black bear program in Yosemite Park. The Giant Killers still planning the yearly motorcycle charity run they hosted that really sounded like a white supremacist get-together, but the last time Erin said that to Freida, she ended up with a broken nose and two black eyes.

  If they weren’t working on getting Erin over the Bifrost Bridge, they were doing other things as if life was going on as normal. Even if it wasn’t.

  “I’m not hungry,” Jace told Ski.

  He smiled—God! That beautiful smile—and said, “I’ll make you something to eat.” A man with a beautiful smile who never listened. He disappeared down the hall, her dog following him.

  It seemed Lev’s loyalties had changed.

  “They go where the food is, but Lev’s heart will always belong to you. He knows who saved him.”

  Wincing, Jace turned without standing up and there they were, crouching on the chairs throughout the library.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she said gently. “The Protectors won’t like it.”

  “We’re not staying.”

  Jace forced herself not to turn from the piercing blue eyes gazing at her. It was what her grandmother had taught her. How to handle them. Never show fear. Be direct.

  So Jace was. “Are you here to stop me?”

  “If we wanted to stop you, Jacie-girl, we would have sent the nuns. But the nuns sent us.” He smiled. “Besides, we decided long ago that fighting Crows was . . . not in the world’s best interest.”

  “You ladies cheat,” another muttered.

  “Now, now, Raphael.”

  “They do.” Raphael looked at Jace. “I have to admit, I was disappointed when you joined.”

  “Your grandmother never chose,” Michael reminded her.

  Jace’s nose twitched. “Her husband never killed her.”

  “Ah, yes. The false prophet. We have such plans for that soul. Once you ladies are done with him, of course.”

  “If you’re not here to stop me then . . .”

  “Khamael,” Michael prompted.

  Khamael walked over to Jace’s table and carefully laid a book on the wood. It was ancient and written in runes. “We’re sure you can find some Neanderthal pagan to read this.”

  “Oh, we can,” Haldor said from near the doors.

  The Protectors had come into their library without making a sound. Ski’s cat, Salka, hissed at the archangels from the top of one of the shelves.

  “Nice cat,” Raphael sneered.

  Jace didn’t want a fight, so she redirected the Protectors the only way she knew how. “I can’t read this book.”

  “What?” Bear said, pushing past Khamael like he wasn’t one of God’s assassins. “What do you mean you can’t read it?”

  “I’m still learning about runes. I’m not fluent. And these are ancient runes. We need someone with more knowledge than I have.”

  The Protectors surrounded the table, all of them except Ski studying the book.

  The archangels exited out the back sliding doors, Michael pausing long enough to wink at her before unleashing his wings and disappearing into the night.

  Ski smirked. “Nicely handled,” he said to Jace, his voice low. Not that it was necessary. His brothers were so lost in the book before them, they noticed nothing else.

  Finally, it was Haldor who said, “We can’t read this.”

  “None of you can?” Ski asked, surprised.

  “These aren’t just runes. When we try to focus, the runes move. That’s not normal.”

  “So, highly mystical. We should call the Maids. They can help.”

  “Or . . .” Jace said, letting the one word hang there.

  “Or?”

  “No,” Bear said. “Absolutely not.”

  “He’ll be here in minutes. The Maids have to drive.”

  Ski shrugged at her logic. “She’s right.”

  “Yes,” Bear admitted, “and we hate her for that.”

  * * *

  Erin grinned at the large Latin man covered in tattoos and he smiled back.

  “Erin! Hey, girl!”

  “Hey, Junior.” She went up on her toes and leaned over the counter of the small outdoor taco stand, kissing the man on the cheek. It was a carry-out-only joint, a few outdoor tables and chairs scattered around for those who didn’t want to take their food back home.

  “How’s it been going?” he asked.

  “Great.”

  He gestured at Erin. “What’s all that?”

  Not sure what Junior was talking about, Erin looked down. Saw all the black blood from the Mara. “Uh . . . it’s paint. Just came from a painting party.”

  “Have fun?”

  “Had a blast.”

  “What do you need?”

  “One meat lover’s taco for me. And three for big boy here.”

  Junior stared at Stieg before replying, “Even I only eat two.”

  “Trust me.”

  “Okay.”

  “And two extra-large Cokes and chips.”

  “Got it.”

  The food arrived and Erin pulled money out of the back pocket of her jeans. She handed it over to Junior and walked away before he could give her any change.

  “You’re the best,” he told her, laughing.

  “I know!”

  Stieg found an empty table and sat down. “I need more than three tacos,” he warned her.

  “You haven’t even unwrapped the food yet.” Erin sat across from him, tore open a bag of hot chips, and took the caps off a bowl of salsa and another of guacamole.

  With an annoyed sigh, he opened the bag Erin had handed him and unwrapped the first taco. He stared at it. “Okay,” he said after a long moment. “This might do.”

  “Told ya.”

  Junior’s tacos weren’t like generic tacos that tourists could find all over LA. He made the shells himself and they were wide and long. Then he filled each one up with three different kinds of marinated meat, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and sauce. Erin was sure Junior’s food had caused more than one Los Angeles resident a heart attack immediately after eating.

  A risk Erin was willing to take because they were so damn good.

  They ate without speaking, both hungry after their battle.

  Stieg was working through his last taco when Erin asked, “So . . . are you okay?”

  He grunted around the food, nodding his head.

  She laughed, working on the chips and salsa. “I don’t mean about the food. I mean are you okay?”

  He paused midchew, his gaze locked on her. “Am I wounded?” he asked around a mouthful of meat, cheese, and tomatoes.

&nb
sp; “Not that I’m aware.”

  “Then why are you asking?”

  “I don’t know. I just . . . I . . .” She looked away. “Stop staring at me! It was just a question.”

  “A question you’ve never asked me before in the history of the universe.”

  “All right, all right! I’m sorry I asked.”

  He narrowed his eyes like he thought she was going to cut his throat, but kept eating.

  Her phone buzzed and she glanced down at the text. “Finish up. We gotta go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Protector house.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re not going to ask?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Erin slammed her hands on the table. “Because I don’t feel like it.”

  “You sure are getting snippy.”

  “Could you please finish inhaling your food so we can go?”

  “Snip-py.”

  * * *

  Stieg was surprised when he found his Raven brothers at the Protector’s house. It was not like they were welcome. Ever. At all.

  But Rolf Landvik was already sitting in their library, appearing cool, calm, and bored out of his mind. Siggy, much to the horror of the Protectors, had his feet up on the table. And Vig stood brooding. Something the man was very good at.

  Erin’s Strike Team and Chloe were also there, still in their battle wear. An argument was well underway, but it wasn’t with the Crows or even with the Ravens. Not even Chloe and Josef bothered to argue about their divorce these days, the pair seeming to have decided that ending Ragnarok was more important than whether Josef would get spousal support from Chloe’s book royalties.

  No, this particular fight was between the Protectors and Bear.

  The back glass doors slid open automatically and Stieg paused so he could stare at them, wondering how they worked. But he didn’t have time to figure it out because Erin came back grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room.

  “Bear, give him the book,” Ski ordered.

  It was the first time Stieg ever remembered the man looking that angry. Most things rolled off his back. Stieg did recognize the expression on Bear’s face, though. The man had made up his mind, and it seemed nothing would change it.

  He held an old looking book to his chest, both his big arms wrapped around it to keep his brothers away. “I am not giving that barbarian this book. It’s clearly precious.”

  “Bear, we’re Vikings. We’re all barbarians.”

  “I don’t care—and what is she doing here?” Bear suddenly yelled, pointing at Erin.

  Erin stopped. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Yet.”

  “Jace told me to come here.”

  “And I’m telling you to leave, fire starter.”

  Stieg was getting pissed. He stepped in front of Jace and dared, “Talk to her like that again, Ingolfsson, I’ll start burning books myself.”

  “Or,” Kera cut in, her hand against Vig’s chest—probably the only thing keeping him from leaping over the table and yanking Bear’s testicles off—“we can all calm the fuck down. Right now!” She let out a breath. “Now, Jace . . .”—Kera suddenly looked around—“Jace? Where’s Jace?”

  When all Kera received was shrugs, she stalked over to the table Rolf and Siggy were sitting at and slammed her fist against the wood three times. “Jacinda Berisha! Get out from under that table right now!”

  Jace appeared. “I thought I dropped—”

  “Stop lying,” Kera ordered, stepping back so Jace could stand and not collide with her.

  “I didn’t mean to cause a fight,” Jace explained. “I just thought we should all be together doing this.”

  “Ingolfsson’s insane, so you shouldn’t have invited him,” Rolf teased.

  “I am not insane. I just don’t trust you.”

  Kera looked down at the floor, took a breath. “Okay, Bear . . . what could we do to make you feel more comfortable about letting Rolf look at the book?”

  “Nothing.”

  Kera rubbed her forehead with her forefinger. “Bear,” she warned, “I will use my talons and rip that goddamn book out of your hands . . . or you can work with me here.”

  “Well, it would help if Kaspersen would get his big feet off our table.”

  “Get your feet off the table, Siggy.”

  “And maybe the Ravens can go into the kitchen. Away from our precious library.”

  “Are we really listening to this idiot?” Vig asked.

  “Sacred space!” Bear suddenly bellowed.

  “Fine.” Kera motioned to the other Ravens. “Gentlemen, could you please?”

  “Unbelievable,” Vig complained while Siggy got to his feet.

  Bear pointed at Erin again. “And she needs to leave completely.”

  “But I really haven’t done anything.”

  “Erin, please—” Kera turned toward her sister-Crow but stopped speaking and gestured at her. “What is this?”

  “Mara blood.”

  “Again with them?”

  Chloe pointed at Erin and Stieg. “They’re not the only ones,” she said, holding up her phone. “I’ve been getting texts all night from the other Strike Teams.”

  “Okay. We’ll deal with that later. Erin, just go.”

  “Because Bear said I had to go?”

  “Because Bear is holding the book that we need. Now go.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Erin spun around and stormed out, and Stieg immediately followed her.

  Once Erin was outside, she unleashed her wings, but before she took off, she noticed Stieg. “What are you doing?”

  “Following you.”

  “Why?”

  “No idea. Maybe because you look so irritated.”

  “I am irritated. I’m the one risking everything and they’re kicking me out because Bear said to kick me out. How is that cool?”

  “Want me to beat him up? He bugs me, so I don’t mind beating him up.”

  First Erin frowned; then she smiled. “You beating up Bear Ingolfsson is like me beating up Jace’s puppy—cruel and unusual.”

  “Look, why don’t you come back to my place? Your backpack is still there anyway. And something tells me, Erin, that if you go back to the Bird House the way you’re feeling right now, you’re just going to start some shit.”

  She snorted. “Yeah. I will.” She glanced off. “Do you have ice cream?”

  “No. But that little store next to my place is open late. We can always buy some.”

  “Chocolate?”

  “Okay.”

  “All right then.”

  “See?”

  “See what?”

  “Startin’ shit.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “What if I’d said no to the chocolate? What if I’d insisted on butter pecan? Or strawberry?”

  “Ew.”

  “See? Startin’ shit.”

  She laughed and waved him off. “Just go.”

  * * *

  With the rest of his Raven brothers safely put away in the kitchen, Erin out of the house, and everyone calm, Rolf stared at Bear Ingolfsson and asked, “Can I see the book now?”

  Grudgingly, as if he was handing his only child off to Lucifer himself, Bear placed the book on the table in front of Rolf. “Be careful,” the Protector warned, making Rolf want to hit him.

  Rolf didn’t even open the book. He simply laid his hand on it and closed his eyes. He didn’t read runes as much as they “spoke” to him. As much as they led him down the path to knowledge.

  And these runes not only spoke to Rolf. They screamed.

  “Write this down,” he ordered. But even with his eyes closed, he sensed that no one was actually doing anything. “I’m waiting,” he barked.

  “I don’t do secretarial work anymore,” Maeve complained. Before her untimely death and subsequent Second Life, she’d done temp work. Now, of course, she ran her own very lu
crative medical website specifically built for the hypochondriacs of the world who were sure they were dying any second.

  But none of them had time for this.

  “In about twenty minutes, I’m going to get a migraine that could kill a small elephant. We need to get this done . . . now.”

  Maeve’s sigh was dramatic but he could hear movement as she sat down near him at the table and the clattering of computer keys as she began working on a laptop. “All right,” she muttered, resigned. “Go.”

  Rolf began, the runes still screaming, and he quickly realized that giving himself twenty minutes before one of his rune-related migraines took over might have been a little too generous.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Erin took a quick shower while Stieg took his goat for a walk. Because that’s what modern-day Vikings do apparently. Walk their goats.

  By the time Stieg got back, Erin was on his couch, wearing one of his ridiculously big tank tops and watching one of her favorite movies on cable.

  Stieg stood behind the couch, staring at the TV until he asked, “What is this?”

  “The greatest movie ever made.”

  “Citizen Kane?” She looked at him over her shoulder and he added, “I like that movie.”

  “No. This is not Citizen Kane. This is Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “This movie has everything. Sex, drugs, rock and roll, bad acting. I mean really bad acting. It’s brilliant.”

  “I find your taste disturbing.”

  “Yeah. You and everybody else. But you people just don’t understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “True art.”

  Stieg rolled his eyes and walked to the bathroom. Erin had turned back to the TV when Stieg’s dirty shirt covered her head.

  She squealed and yanked it off. “Not cool, dude! I just washed that damn Mara blood out of my hair!”

  Scrunching up her nose, she tossed the shirt to the floor and went back to her show. She could hear the shower go on in the bathroom while Hilda got on the couch with her. Erin reached over and petted the animal until a pair of filthy jeans hit her in the head. Quickly followed by the man’s nasty drawers!

  “I’m gonna kill him,” she snapped, throwing his dirty clothes aside. She jumped off the couch in time to see a naked Stieg slam the bathroom door in her face.