The Unleashing

  “Of course I do.” Jace wrapped her hand around Sherri’s throat, lifted her out of the chair, and slammed her into the wall. “Because we both know what I’ll do to you if something happens to my dog.” She leaned in, making sure that Sherri could see Jace’s eyes at this moment. When they were a bright, angry red.

  The Crows didn’t think Jace had control of the rage she’d been gifted with by Skuld. But they were wrong. Sometimes, she had complete control of it and she used it when she deemed necessary. Like now.

  “Don’t we, Sherri?”

  Sherri nodded. “Yes. Yes, we both understand.”

  “Good.” Jace released her sister-Crow and smiled. “And thanks.”

  Sherri forced a desperate little smile, her hand rubbing her neck, and squeaked, “You’re welcome.”

  Chloe handed over the legal paperwork. “All I need,” she told Betty’s assistant, “is for you to knock on my neighbor’s door and serve her this. Think you can do that, Brianna?”

  “Uh . . . yeah . . . sure. Of course. No problem. That should be really easy. Uh-huh.”

  Good Lord. What had Betty done to this poor woman?

  Over the years there had been a few new Crows who came in and thought that working for the Betty Lieberman would be the best thing ever for their second life careers.

  Most didn’t last a week. One ended up in jail during a holiday weekend. Not because Betty put her there but because once security pulled her off Betty and dragged her out of the building, she began beating the hell out of the cops.

  So, yeah, Betty was the worst boss in all of humanity. But she was also the best agent in the known universe. It was when Betty agreed to sign Chloe as a client so that she could sell the movie rights to her books that Chloe had realized she’d finally made it, at least career-wise.

  No matter what, Betty always had her clients’ backs. But to work for the woman . . . ? Especially as her assistant. That was another level of hell that most normal people couldn’t handle. Yet the ones who did went on to very great things.

  Although, Chloe didn’t think Brianna would be one of those. She was a twitching mess. Still beautiful, but at twenty-six, she was starting to look more like thirty-four, and that was never good for a woman in Hollywood.

  Thankfully for Chloe, she was a book writer. And as far as the literary world was concerned . . . she was hot!

  “Now she may not be home at this hour. She has an erratic schedule. But Betty says it’s okay for you to wait until she shows.”

  “Okay.”

  “I really appreciate this, Brianna.”

  “Sure . . . of course! No problem. Anything for you. Okay.” She got to her wobbly feet. “I’m on it!”

  Wincing, Chloe also stood and ushered the woman back to the front door. As they neared it, a small group of Crows ran by them and out the door.

  “Everything okay?” Brianna asked.

  What could Chloe say with everyone acting so weird? “Doubtful.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Brianna hated this. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to help Betty’s stupid friends from her old sober house serve their stupid papers.

  She should be a VP by now. She should be running a studio. Not getting coffee for Betty “That Bitch!” Lieberman or ducking water bottles thrown at her head.

  Almost every assistant that Betty had had over the years had made it big in the industry or in any industry they chose to work in. In any country. Of course, there were a few who had given up their careers completely. One former assistant now worked on a pig farm somewhere in the Midwest and refused to even go to the movies anymore. Another woman was said to be backpacking through the Australian Outback, her family getting the occasional postcard with crayon-written conspiracy theories about Nordic gods and the end of the world.

  But that was not going to happen to Brianna. She was going to own this town and Betty was going to be the one to get her there. Even if that meant Brianna had to go home at night and stab at her pillow with a ten-inch chef’s blade, then so be it.

  Brianna knocked on the door and waited.

  You know, she really couldn’t complain. If there was one thing Betty did do right by her employees, it was paying them well. As her assistant, Brianna made more than two hundred grand yearly. And that wasn’t including the bonuses she received throughout the year for this and that.

  Brianna knocked again and waited another minute or two. But still, there was no response.

  Determined to find someone to hand this stupid stack of legal crap off to, Brianna tottered her way around the mansion. She should have slipped on her running shoes before heading over here. The shoes she currently wore were not conducive to walking and she knew that, but she hadn’t thought this would be a complicated endeavor.

  “A Harvard degree and this is what I’m reduced to,” she muttered, carefully making her way across the beautiful lawn that surrounded the mansion.

  Brianna finally reached the back door. She knocked but still no one answered. That seemed strange. A place like this always had a staff. Usually a very sizable one.

  Of course, Betty didn’t have a large staff for her big home either. There were lots of rumors why. Some said it was because she still seemed to have a strange nightlife. The one that had put her in Giant Strides in the first place.

  But Brianna thought it was strange that Betty had so many girlfriends. She was a bitch and prided herself on being a bitch. Yet these women of Giant Strides—who seemed to have a very unhealthy attachment to their rehab center—adored Betty.

  So Brianna was pretty sure Betty was a lesbian. How else could women of all races, economic levels, and looks be friends unless they were fucking?

  Still no answer! What was going on?

  Determined, Brianna tried the door. It was unlocked. She eased in, leaving the door open behind her in case she had to make a mad run for it.

  She knew this was basically breaking and entering, but she didn’t have a choice. The cops would have to understand. She worked for Betty Lieberman, for God’s sake!

  Brianna continued to move through the house. It was as she expected. A rich person’s house, but with a lot more gold things. The woman who owned the place must be a fan of gold. Gold and white. Bright white.

  It was almost overwhelming.

  And how did one keep this white furniture so bright and clean without a full-time staff?

  Brianna went deeper into the house, but she didn’t know why. She didn’t know why she kept going. Why she kept looking. Why she kept—

  Brianna looked behind her, but there was nothing. Nothing behind her.

  She crept down the hallway until she reached the ballroom. She pressed her back against the door and leaned in, craning her neck, trying to look into the enormous room. It was dark in there, the windows blocked off by long, thick, dark curtains.

  Brianna closed her eyes. She was being stupid. She had to go. She had to run. She’d just have to tell Betty she’d failed and deal with the repercussions. Shouldn’t be too bad. Her doctor had told her he had a new anti-anxiety drug he was going to prescribe for her.

  Her mind made up, Brianna turned and took a step—

  “Are you leaving us?” a woman asked from inside that ballroom.

  Brianna stopped moving. She stopped breathing.

  “Brianna . . . ?”

  Brianna took in a startled gasp. Her name. The woman knew her name!

  “Do not be afraid. She told us you would be coming. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Brianna still thought about making a run for it, but now she saw two males at the end of the dark hallway. They wore robes with hoods that covered their faces. She knew she couldn’t get past them.

  “Brianna?”

  Hands shaking, Brianna stepped into the ballroom. The group stood in a semicircle. All of them waiting. For her.

  “Um . . . hello. I . . . um . . . was sent to give you these papers.”

  A woman walked toward Brianna and took
the papers out of her hand. She opened the manila envelope and looked inside—grinned.

  “It’s working beautifully,” the woman said to those behind her. “They’re doing just what we need them to do.”

  “You’re in a legal fight with Giant Strides just to get me here?”

  The woman blinked, then laughed. They all laughed.

  “No, of course not. That’s ridiculous. We’re simply tormenting them. Distracting them from the obvious.”

  “Oh.”

  “What’s happening with you is that you were sent to us by a god.”

  “O . . . kay.”

  The woman put her arm around Brianna’s waist. “You don’t understand, child. You were chosen for a very special purpose.”

  “Is this some kind of weird . . . sex cult?”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re not going to have to fuck anyone here. Instead,” she said, leading Brianna toward the group, “we’re going to offer you the world.”

  They arrived at the studio lot and a small entourage of people met their limo. A cup of hot, perfectly made coffee was handed to Yardley, and the director came out to greet her with hugs and air kisses. The whole thing had Kera frowning, which she didn’t realize until Erin jabbed her in the ribs.

  “Ow!”

  “You’re acting like you’re seconds away from storming the beach at Normandy. Take it down a notch.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” She tried to relax her face, but that only made Erin laugh.

  “Devon,” Yardley said to the director, “these are my friends from the sober house. I was wondering if you can get them some passes for the day. They’re raising money for a very important charity that’s important to me, and I want to help them.”

  “Sure. Of course.” He snapped his fingers at some poor underling and sent the kid off running. “We’ll have those passes in a few minutes.”

  “Great. Thanks, babe.”

  “Sober house?” Kera asked when the director turned and began to bark orders at everyone.

  “Oh, just tell them you work there. No offense, gorgeous, but no one would believe for a second you can afford to reside at Giant Strides.”

  “Told ya,” Erin tossed in.

  “Yes. I’m well aware how poor I look.”

  “Not poor. With the right makeup, wardrobe, and sex tape you, too, could be part of a wealthy reality TV family. But there’s an air of clean living about you that makes you seem very . . .”

  “Poor?”

  “Human. Like you care about people other than yourself, which is totally uninteresting to the media world.”

  “Don’t you care about other people?”

  Yardley smiled. “I didn’t use to. But death has a sobering effect.” She kissed Kera on the cheek. “Now you go out there, gorgeous, and you get your charity off the ground. And you help her, mentor.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  Yardley walked away, and a gang of people swarmed her.

  “That many people around me would make me crazed,” Kera whispered.

  “She loves it. They all do.” Erin smirked. “But I’d start cutting people, too, if anyone I didn’t know got that close to me.”

  The intern ran up to them with two passes to wear around their necks. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you,” Kera and Erin said together.

  The boy stared at them as if they’d given him a million dollars. “You’re welcome,” he said, as if he’d never been thanked before. “You’re very, very welcome.”

  “Well . . . that was heartbreaking,” Kera muttered as she put the pass on, noticing that the kid, as he walked away, kept looking back at her and Erin like they glowed.

  “Welcome to Hollywood. One day that boy will either crumble from the stress or become a studio head who treats his people worse than he was ever treated. There is no in-between for this crowd.”

  “And I’m going to get money out of these people for a charity to help vets?”

  Erin grinned. “You’d be amazed how easy it is to get money out of soulless people.”

  “Easy to get money out of people you call soulless?”

  “Soulless people who want the world to think they’re not. It’s like shootin’ narcissists in a barrel.”

  Jace had spent a couple of hours trying to track down Brodie, with absolutely no success. The dog was gone.

  She stood high on a ridge overlooking one of the nearby beaches. She really hoped that Brodie hadn’t gone down there. If the Claws of Ran knew she was Kera’s dog . . .

  No. She wouldn’t think like that. The Claws of Ran were assholes but they wouldn’t fuck with a dog just because it was a Crow’s pet. There were lines the Clans didn’t cross. No one fucked with the Giant Killers’ Harleys or the Valkyries’ horses or Holde’s Maids’ goats. So, Jace reasonably believed, no one was going to harm a Crow’s pet.

  “Hey, Jace.”

  Jace turned at the voice, let out a sigh when she saw it was just Stieg Engstrom. “Oh. It’s you.”

  “Who did you think it would be?”

  “No one.” She again stared down at the beach.

  “You’re not going down there, are you? The Claws will—”

  “I know. I know.”

  “Coffee?” he asked, holding out a cup from the nearby Starbucks.

  “Are you hitting on me?”

  “No. You’re cute but I tend to piss people off and with your rage issues, I’m pretty sure you’d just kill me. I do like that you don’t talk much, though. I enjoy that in a friend.”

  Jace abruptly faced Stieg. “If you were a dog, where would you go?”

  “Did you lose that puppy already?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Where would I go if I were a dog?” He shrugged massive shoulders. “I guess I’d go home.”

  “Home.” Jace slapped her hands against the sides of her head. “Of course! Home! You’d go home!” She gave Stieg a quick hug and ran back toward her car, yelling, “Thank you!” over her shoulder.

  Annalisa whistled and the crow flew down and landed on her shoulder.

  “Have you seen the new girl’s dog?” she asked. The bird stretched out its wings and shook itself all over. A “no.”

  “What about the others?”

  The bird lifted its head and squawked loudly several times. The crows in the trees responded, cawing back at them. When they were done, the bird on Annalisa’s shoulder stretched out its wings and shook itself all over. Another “no.”

  “Okay. Well, if you see her—”

  Her phone vibrated and Annalisa pulled it from her front jean pocket. The text was from Jace, telling everyone to meet at the Bird House.

  Annalisa brushed her head against the crow. “Thank you, sweetie.”

  The bird squawked and took flight, going back to the trees. Annalisa watched until the bird was safely on a branch, then turned to head back to the house. But she stopped and looked down on the mansion of Chloe’s nemesis. Betty’s assistant, Brittany or Tiffany or whatever adorable name she had, walked out of the front door, stumbling a bit on her ridiculous heels. She stopped, got her balance, smoothed out her extremely short business skirt, and walked toward the town car waiting for her.

  Annalisa quickly sent a text to Chloe, and she received an immediate answer back.

  She’s doing me a favor. Nothing to worry about.

  But that didn’t explain why the girl was just now leaving, Annalisa pointed out in a second text.

  That bitch probably just got home. I told Brianna to wait until she arrived.

  Satisfied with the answer, Annalisa ran back to meet with Jace and the others at the Bird House.

  Vig was sitting on his porch, using a carving knife to whittle a piece of wood. He wasn’t sure yet what he would make, but he was really enjoying the simplicity of what he was doing. He found whittling calming.

  “Hey,” Stieg said as he and Siggy walked up to Vig’s house.

  “Hey, hey.”

  ?
??The Crows lost your girlfriend’s dog.”

  Vig watched the two men as they stomped up his stairs, Stieg briefly stopping to place a Starbucks cup beside him.

  “What?”

  “Yeah. They were all over town trying to track it down. And Jace spoke to me. Not just a word, either. But, like, full sentences. It was kind of weird.”

  “Where the hell is Kera?”

  “Off with that redhead. I’m going to play video games.”

  “The redhead has a name,” Vig snapped, but if Stieg heard him, he didn’t reply.

  “You going to call Kera?” Siggy asked.

  “And tell her the Crows lost her dog? I’m trying to get them together, not pull them apart.”

  “For sex?”

  Vig gawked at his Raven brother. “What?”

  “You said you’re trying to get Kera and the Crows together. For sex?”

  “No. Not for sex.”

  “Why not? That could be kind of interesting.”

  Vig went back to his whittling. “Go away.”

  “Okay. But you know I’m right.”

  Kera didn’t have to say a word. She simply held the clipboard she’d stuffed in her backpack—much to Erin’s initial annoyance—and, when Erin gave her the signal, she pretended to write on it.

  Erin did all the heavy lifting and Kera soon realized that Erin could get whatever she wanted simply by opening her mouth and talking. Apparently if people weren’t Crows, they were “fair game” to Erin Amsel.

  They received no cash, but the checks were piling up nicely, even though Kera had no idea how much they’d made since numbers were never mentioned out loud. Instead, Erin would watch her fair game write out a check and as soon as the number portion was being filled in, she’d wince or crinkle up her nose . . . and suddenly the pen would pause and the number would change.

  It was fascinating!

  Kera firmly believed there were con artists everywhere. In the military, in big business, at school bake sales. But for the first time, she saw the benefit of having them around, because Erin was really good at what she did.