The Unleashing

  “Norway? I thought you were from Sweden.”

  “My family line started in Norway, then was moved to Sweden to help train new Ravens. By then the Crows had spread from Norway to Sweden, Denmark, and Finland. Of course, the Crows were different then.”

  “Different how?”

  “Angrier. It was like they wanted all the Viking men dead. And if the women and children got in the way . . . they didn’t care. After a few centuries, though, we all calmed down. But the Crows still hold to their code.”

  “What code?”

  “They haven’t told it to you yet?” He smirked. “It’s ‘let rage be your guide.’ ”

  “Rage? Let rage be your guide? That’s healthy.”

  “It’s the code of the first Crows and it still stands. I’m sure they’ll teach you more about it.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure,” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Already I’ve learned about how my body is ill-shaped for ever being an actress and how everyone seems to like my dog better than me.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “She’s already made friends and all they did with me was throw out my clipboard.”

  “What were you doing with a clipboard?”

  “That’s what you got out of what I said?”

  “Pretty much. I am glad you brought Brodie with you.”

  “Me, too. But I told . . . uh . . .”

  “Skuld?”

  “Right. Skuld. I told her I wouldn’t come unless Brodie was with me. I wouldn’t have left Big B alone. That dog saved my life.”

  “How?”

  Kera smiled a little. “By needing me. She was so sick when I found her. I had to hand-feed her the first few weeks. But then she got healthy and she needed exercise and to go outside and to be around other dogs, which meant other people. She forced me back into life. When I found her, I’d kind of given up. I was comfortable going to work, then coming home, and doing nothing more than watching TV and waiting for my next shift at whatever job I had at the moment. But that didn’t work for Brodie.”

  “Was it that bad for you? When you got out of the Marines, I mean.”

  Kera wiped her mouth with her paper napkin and stared out at the ocean again for a moment. “It wasn’t that I’d been through what some others had been through,” she finally said, looking at Vig as she spoke. “It’s just . . . I had lost a few of my friends, which was really hard. But that’s the risk you take, ya know? The risk we all take. But I was lucky. I came back with all my parts intact and when I was still in, I was with guys who respected and watched out for me. It was like having a bunch of big brothers covering my back. So, returning here and being a citizen . . . ? That was hard. For instance, I’d go out with a guy, and he didn’t understand why I insisted on not sitting with my back to the door.”

  “Why would you sit with your back to the door?”

  “Exactly! But apparently that suggested I didn’t trust the guy to watch my back, which I didn’t. He wasn’t one of my fellow Marines who had been trained just like me, who knew to keep an eye on the door even when we were having a deep discussion about something. And the few girlfriends I had before I went in, listening to them talk afterward, they all seemed so . . .”

  “Vapid?”

  She winced. “Kind of. And I hated feeling that way and I hated feeling like I was being a horrible person because I felt that way. I mean, they didn’t know any better. They hadn’t been out there. They hadn’t seen what I’d seen. Been where I’d been. But before I knew it, I was completely on my own. They didn’t want to deal with me any more than I wanted to deal with them. So it was just me and my job and nothing else. But then I found Brodie . . . and she watched my back. We were partners, ya know?”

  “Yeah. Actually, I do. That’s how I feel about all my Raven brothers . . . even the ones who irritate the fuck out of me.”

  “See?” she said, her smile wide. “I knew you got it. I could tell that when you came into the coffee shop.”

  “When you thought I was brain damaged?”

  “I didn’t mean that as an insult. Guys having their brains scrambled by IEDs, you know, Improvised Explosive Devices, happens more than anyone wants to admit. Your truck drives over one of those, and if you wake up with all your arms and legs intact, you still might get your brains scrambled. Suddenly everything looks like a threat. Even when you’re back home with your family. That’s a lot of pressure to put on a guy from some Oklahoma ranch who just wanted to help his country. And some guys . . . they break.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I never got my brains scrambled. But I miss the camaraderie of the Marines. I miss knowing there are guys around me watching my back.”

  “But you have that now.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, smiling sweetly at him. “I know you’re watching my back.”

  “I don’t mean me. The Crows. They’ll always have your back.”

  “Maybe. Sure!” She winced again. “I guess.”

  Vig’s heart dropped. “You don’t like them either.”

  “I don’t know them. But from what I’ve seen so far, they spend a lot of time at the pool, going to movie and TV auditions, and watching ridiculous reality TV. And that’s only what I’ve seen in the last few hours. And the minute I even mentioned organization, they all freaked out on me.”

  “The Crows are living their second lives, Kera. A lot of them are finally doing what they’ve always wanted to do.”

  “Be lazy and self-indulgent?”

  “No. You probably haven’t met them yet, but the Crows are agents, lawyers, bank execs. At least three of them are professors at Cal Tech, as well as actresses, models, and musicians. And every one of them has vowed not to waste her second chance.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t feel I wasted my first life, but I have no idea what I’m going to do now. I thought I’d be going back to my old job at the coffee shop, but you would have thought I said I was going back to being a prostitute. They were all so appalled.”

  “Give it time. Nothing happens overnight.”

  Kera finished her sandwich and stared past the protective glass a few minutes before she suddenly asked, “Are you friends with the guys with the big hammers?”

  Vig briefly choked on the potato chip he’d just eaten. “Good God, no. The Giant Killers are not friends of the Crows or the Ravens. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you said their hammers were created by you.”

  “Yeah . . . ?”

  “But why would you sell weapons to your enemies?”

  “We’re Vikings.”

  And yes, Vig assumed that explained everything until Kera said, “I don’t really know what that is supposed to mean to me.”

  “Vikings weren’t just brutal raiders, we were also traders. We traded with each other. We traded with other cultures if they had something we wanted. It was a huge part of our society, as was the raping and pillaging when necessary. And it still is today. Well . . . the trading is still part of our society.”

  “Did the rise of feminism cut down on the whole raping and pillaging thing?” Kera asked, smirking.

  “It definitely helped.” He laughed. “And yes, those hammers you took from the Killers . . . those were created by me, and I charged a fortune for them.”

  “I do love your work.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is that a family thing?”

  “It is. Do you have a family thing?”

  “Yeah. Insanity. At least on my mother’s side.” Before Vig could get further information on that statement, Kera asked, “Do you ever worry you’ll get killed by your own weapon?”

  “I don’t worry about getting killed. Death is a part of life. We all could die at any time, but to die in battle, in service to Odin . . . that I don’t waste time worrying about. Instead, it will be an honor.”

  “Wow. You are so very Viking.”

  Vig grinned. “Yeah. I am.”

  He had such a nice smile under th
at beard and hair. Not that she minded the beard or his thick, black hair.

  Actually, the more she talked to Vig, the more she didn’t mind anything about the man. Who knew she could be so wrong about a person. Kera had always prided herself on being able to look deeply into people without resorting to a lot of the usual bullshit people hung on each other. But she’d been wrong about Vig. He wasn’t broken. He wasn’t destroyed by a cruel society.

  He was just an introvert with an aversion to shaving.

  And he liked her.

  Liked her, liked her. The way a guy likes a girl.

  God. What was happening to her?

  “What?” Vig asked, gazing at her. “Why are you smiling like that?”

  “Because I’m pathetic.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ll find your way with the Crows. I never would have asked for this for you, Kera, if I didn’t think you could handle it. If I didn’t think you’d thrive at it. You were meant to be a Crow.”

  “I’m not sure whether I should be insulted by that statement or not.”

  “Not. Crows are amazing.”

  “They’re little black birds with tiny legs. It’s not like we’re eagles or hawks. Ya know, birds of prey.”

  “Crows are better. They’re smart. Wicked smart, as my sister would say. They’re the only birds known to use tools. Who can actually reason and problem solve. You know what eagles can do? Look majestic and dive-bomb rats.”

  “For a Raven you have a high opinion of Crows.”

  “Every raven is a crow, but not every crow is a raven.” When Kera only stared, he added, “Ravens are from the crow family. The Corvidae.”

  “So every Marine is part of the U.S. military but not every guy in the military is necessarily a Marine?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I like that.”

  “I like you,” he suddenly said, gazing at her with those penetrating dark eyes. “I like you a lot. I want to date you. At least to start. Then I’d like to have sex with you, but I want to start with dating. When you have time. I know you’re just starting in this life and I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

  When Kera only stared at him, he said, “I made you uncomfortable.”

  “Actually . . . no. You didn’t.” She was just shocked. It felt like ages since a guy had hit on her and her first reaction wasn’t to punch him in the face.

  “You still think I’m crazy, though?”

  “Yes, but a crazy who no longer makes me worried for the safety of you or society at large.”

  Vig chuckled a little. “Okay.”

  “Trust me. I consider that a good kind of crazy.”

  “So, since you think I’m a good kind of crazy, we can date? When you’re ready, I mean?”

  “Now that I know I wouldn’t be taking advantage of a homeless vet who really needs my help . . . I think yeah. We can date.”

  “Excellent,” he said nodding. “Definitely excellent.”

  Kera started to grin at Vig’s obvious—but nonthreatening—exuberance, but ended up jerking away from the protective glass when she heard something slam against it, her hand immediately grasping a knife from beside her plate.

  There was a woman pressed against the glass. Blond, deeply tanned, and gorgeous, the woman was drenched and dressed in a wet suit. She peered at Vig through the window and smiled.

  “Ludvig,” she said, raising her voice enough to be heard over the waves below. “So near my precious ocean. Did you come to see me?”

  “No, Rada. Just having lunch with a friend.”

  The woman glanced at Kera and her lip curled. “Another Crow. Like rats in the pantry . . . they just keep coming.”

  “Be nice, Rada,” Vig gently warned.

  “So what’s this one’s name?”

  Kera glared at the woman and sneered, “New girl.”

  “Fitting.” She looked back at Vig. “Tell her how it all works, Vig. I’d hate for her to find out what it’s like to be fish bait.”

  Kera didn’t know why, but the threat had her diving at the glass, the restaurant’s butter knife brandished as a weapon. But the beautiful surfer was gone.

  Horrified, Kera dropped back into her chair, tossing the knife onto the table.

  “What the fuck is wrong with me?” Kera asked.

  “You mean other than Rada being a bitch?” Vig asked casually around the last bite of his sandwich.

  “I don’t care what kind of bitch she is. I tried to attack her.” Kera pressed her hand to her upper chest. Felt her heart racing beneath her fingers. “I don’t do that, Vig. I’m the calm, rational one. I was known for that in the military.”

  Vig shrugged. “She kind of asked for it, though.”

  “What are you saying to me? I’m acting like a crazy person.”

  “No. You’re not. You’re acting on instinct. Rada’s not a friend of yours. She’s the leader of the Claws of Ran, another of the official nine of Clans.”

  “Who the fuck are they?”

  “Ran is the goddess of sea and storms and her nine daughters used to drag men who ventured out onto the ocean down to the sea floor in honor of their mother. But, after a while, as children like to do, her daughters got bored and went off to do their own thing. So Ran started her own human Clan. They’re all surfers and fishermen. Male and female. And Rada runs the Clan on the Pacific Coast. There’s another leader for the East Coast.”

  “How many Clans do I have to worry about again?”

  “Nine. Officially.”

  “And unofficially?”

  “That varies. Just trust your instincts. You’ll be fine.”

  Vig gazed down at his now-empty plate.

  “You’re still hungry, aren’t you?” Kera asked, her heart beginning to slow down, her unwanted rage beginning to taper off.

  “I’m starving. I’m getting another sandwich. You want one?”

  “I think one giant roast beef sandwich with extra meat is all I really need.”

  Vig shrugged and stood. “Okay.”

  Kera watched him walk back into the restaurant and then it hit her. The restaurant was on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and the deck was right on the edge. So Rada could not have been standing on anything. Instead, it was just her hands pressed up against the glass. How the woman got up there and stayed up there—Kera had no damn idea.

  Then again, maybe she didn’t want to know.

  These days, there were a lot of things she was guessing she didn’t want to know.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Vig walked Kera back to the Bird House. As they neared the front door, she stopped and gazed at the roof. “That is a lot of birds up there.”

  He looked up and saw the crows and ravens that perched protectively around the Crows’ main home. The Ravens had a few of their own, but apparently they weren’t nearly as entertaining as the Crow Clan.

  “They have your back, too.”

  Kera faced Vig. “What if I never get along with them? What if the Crows never accept me?”

  “You can always transfer to one of the other Crow units. They’re all over the States.” Vig took a step closer. “But then I’d be kind of miserable. You know . . . if you left. And then who knows how bad my thousand-yard stare might get. I might start terrorizing fast food workers, gas attendants . . . crazed cops with itchy trigger fingers.”

  Kera laughed, her smile bright. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Just give it a chance. That’s all I’m asking. Before you make any decisions.”

  “For you, I’ll give it a shot.”

  “Thank you.”

  They were silent for a moment, gazing at each other, until the front door opened and two Crows walked out with Brodie.

  “Oh, hey! You’re back,” they said to Kera. She glanced at the pair, smiled, turned back to Vig, and that’s when her eyes grew wide. She spun around and stared down at her dog.

  “What is she wearing?”

  One Crow grinned. “Oh my God! Isn’t this amazing. The collar”?
??which was pink—“is studded with Swarovski crystals. It’s fabulous, isn’t it? And it was a little pricey, but don’t worry. That’s on me. But they threw in the leash—”

  “It’s retractable.”

  “—and the tutu! For free!”

  “You have my dog in a tutu.”

  “It makes her look much less intimidating. Pit bulls have such a harsh reputation that we thought making her pretty would work to her benefit.”

  Kera held out her hand. “Give me my dog.”

  “But—”

  “Give me my dog.”

  The Crow silently handed over the retractable leash.

  Kera held it up in front of the women.

  “Retractable leashes are shit. If you’re taking my dog out for a jog, you’ll use a proper leash or you’re not taking out my dog. Do I make myself clear?”

  “But it matches her collar.”

  “Do”—she barked loudly, the crows on the roof squawking in response—“I make myself clear?”

  Eyes wide, the two women nodded.

  “And no tutus.”

  “She looks darling—”

  “Ever! No tutus ever!”

  “But it also matches her collar and has Swarovski crystals on it.”

  “I don’t care if it’s made of mithril, you are not to put my dog in a fucking tutu!”

  Vig leaned down and asked, “Mithril?”

  “Quiet,” she warned him before refocusing on the two Crows. “Have I made myself clear?”

  “Very,” one snapped back, “but you weren’t very nice about it.”

  “You put my pit bull in a tutu. You’re lucky that the only thing I did was not be nice to you.”

  The women stomped off and when Kera turned to face Vig, he quickly reminded her, “You already promised you’d give this a shot.”

  Her mouth had been open, about to speak, but now she shut it. Her nose twitched. She wanted to argue with him.

  “You promised,” he said again. “And as a Marine . . . you would, of course, honor your commitment.”

  Now she glared at him. “Fine,” she said. “But that was a little bit devious.”