That’s when they all walked away from her, leaving her alone in the room.
Not that Erin blamed them.
CHAPTER TEN
Katja stared at the pit bull sitting on her brother’s porch. The dog, although sitting and not growling, seemed to be in protective mode. It wouldn’t let Kat by.
But why was it being protective? Was Vig hurt? Not in the mood to get mauled, Kat told the dog, “I’m Vig’s sister.”
The dog coldly studied her for a moment before it stood and took a step back.
Shocked, but not willing to think too much on it, she walked into her brother’s house but stopped short when she saw some woman stretched out on his couch, an ice pack pressed to her crotch.
Why was an ice pack pressed to her crotch? What exactly had her brother been up to?
“Hi?” Kat prompted when the woman didn’t bother to look at her.
Another ice pack pressed to her face was moved and the woman lifted her head to look at Kat through the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut.
“Oh. Hi.” She replaced the ice pack and dropped her head to the pillow.
“Is Ludvig around?”
“Who?”
“The guy who owns this place.”
“Oh. You mean Vig. He went to the store to get stuff to make dinner and pick me up some Tylenol. Not that Tylenol will help. Death might, though.”
Kat smiled a little. “How bad is the pain?” she asked, closing the door behind her.
“Bad.”
“On a scale of one to ten.”
“Forty-five.”
“That is bad.”
“Told you.”
Kat walked over to the woman and lifted the ice pack. She gently felt around her nose and between her eyes. It all seemed in place.
“How did this happen?” Kat asked as she worked.
“I got into a ridiculous and stupid fight. I know better.”
“Sometimes people push us too far.”
“I still know better.”
“I’m Katja by the way,” Kat said, carefully returning the ice pack to the woman’s face.
“I’m Kera. Kera Watson.”
So this was the Kera Watson. Vig’s Kera Watson.
Not exactly what Kat had expected, but she hadn’t expected anything too specific. Her brother had always had eclectic taste.
Still, Kat knew Odin would not like this. Rundstöm Ravens and Valkyries dated back centuries, but if Vig made a permanent bond with this woman and had Rundstöm babies, they’d be the first who wouldn’t be Ravens or Valkyries. And they could only be Crows if they were female . . . and died. So that wasn’t a pleasant thought.
“I can give you something to help with your aches and pains.”
“I don’t know who you are.”
“I’m Katja.”
“Yes. I’m aware of your name. But that doesn’t mean I know who you are. And I don’t let veritable strangers give me something to help with my aches and pains. What if you give me meth? Or a meth-heroin combo? And then I go from a former Marine to a living-under-a-bridge drug addict with a police record.”
Kat stared at Kera for several moments before asking, “Did Vig give you something already?”
“No,” she said adamantly. “But he did tell me to make myself at home and when I wanted to start screaming from the pain, I tore his bathroom apart until I found some pain pills that were pretty delicious when taken with a couple of shots of tequila.”
“And when did you do that?”
“Ten hours ago!” she stated way too loudly.
Kat guessed that “ten hours” was probably more like ten minutes, which meant one thing . . .
Stieg was walking toward Vig’s house when he saw Vig’s sister dragging that girl Vig liked out of the door while a big pit bull barked and ran circles around the pair.
Stieg looked over his shoulder and whistled.
Rolf and Siggy caught up to him and together the three of them watched Kat Rundstöm struggle to get the fighting Crow out of her brother’s house.
“Huh,” Siggy noted. “I didn’t think Kat would have such a problem with her brother dating a Crow.”
“He’s not exactly dating her yet. I’d still call it a stalking at this point.”
“Maybe we’ve been wrong about Kat all this time. All her love of nature and animals and rescuing horses . . . maybe she’s really just a pure-Aryan-race-loving Nazi.” Siggy stepped forward. “Kat, are you a Nazi?”
“What? Oh, forget it!” She had the new girl around the waist and was holding her over some bushes, which was where the new girl commenced to throwing up. Excessively.
Panting, Kat started to drag the new girl back into Vig’s house. “No more painkillers and tequila!” she ordered.
“That was disgusting,” Rolf complained as they continued on to the house. “I hate watching cute chicks vomit. It totally kills their cute.”
“So you never plan to be with anyone who might have normal, human bodily functions?” Stieg asked.
“That’s my plan. Or at least I’ll find one considerate enough to hide all her womanly functions from me. That’s what good girlfriends do.”
Kera didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but she felt much better when she woke up.
She was still on Vig’s couch but now she was trapped between two really large men. Although she was beginning to wonder if the Ravens had any size other than “really large.”
“Feeling better?” Stieg asked her.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Good. Vig would have been whiny if you’d died on his couch.” He changed the channel on the TV with the remote in his hand.
“Dude, I was watching that,” Siggy complained from the other side of Kera.
“I’m not watching an entire show on people selling stuff to pawn stores. How is that even a show?”
“It’s full of raw emotion and true life.”
“It’s about selling their shit to pawn stores. I used to live that life. No thank you.”
Kera rolled over to her other side so she faced away from the inside of the couch. “Nice TV.”
“Thank you. Vig did not appreciate it nearly as much.”
She glanced up at Stieg. “He didn’t want a TV?”
“ No. ”
“Why did you buy him one then?”
“Because we wanted a TV. All he does is sit around and read or whittle. I mean, who fuckin’ whittles in this day and age?”
“He wants to learn woodworking,” Siggy countered.
“Then learn it while watching TV. There’s just some things a man needs. TV, video games, and beer.”
“Is that really all a man needs?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
“Are you awake?” a woman asked, leaning over the back of the couch so she could see Kera’s face.
“Oh.” Kera blinked at the woman staring at her. “I thought I dreamed you.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard that before.”
“This is Kat. She’s a Valkyrie and Vig’s sister,” Stieg said before continuing to change the channels, much to Siggy’s annoyance. “And because she’s a Valkyrie, it always feels like you’re dreaming when you see her.”
“You’re Vig’s sister?”
“Yeah.” She came around the couch and crouched in front of Kera, studying her eyes.
Kera stared at her for a moment before announcing, “You are perfect looking.”
“Awww. Thank you!”
“I wouldn’t call her perfect—owwww!” Stieg rubbed the side of his head. “Especially when she hits like a dude!”
“You only feel that way because both sides of her face are symmetrical.” Siggy reached across both women to get the remote but Stieg punched his hand away. “But that doesn’t actually make her face perfect. Not even close.”
“It’s comments like those that ensure that when you die, I’m going to drag your sorry carcasses back to Valhalla from the back of my horse.” She stood, placing her hands o
n her hips. “Okay, so a note about being a Crow. Do not, in any way, shape, or form, mix drugs and alcohol. Your metabolism and DNA changes make your body a healing wonder and the first thing your body will attempt to do when you mix drugs and liquor is expel anything like that from your system so it can get back to the process of fixing you.”
“But my crotch hurt so bad.”
Both Stieg and Siggy looked down at Kera, their eyes wide, but Katja quickly explained, “She got in a fight.”
“Amsel twat-kicked me.”
Stieg snorted. “Yeah. I’ve gone a few rounds with her. She’s a nasty little fighter. Lucky for me . . . so am I.”
“Aspirin or Tylenol should work just fine for you after a battle or a street fight with a nasty redhead. It’ll tide you over until your body heals itself. Anything more severe, like lacerations or open wounds, I’m assuming your Clan’s own healers can take care of. Or you can always call in Holde’s Maids. Their Clan has the best healers. But they are bitchy.”
“Hags.”
“You’re saying that just because they’re old women who heal others?” Kera asked Stieg.
“No. Because they’re hags. They even call themselves hags. Even the young ones. It’s weird.”
“They like causing pain,” Siggy added. “Especially to the Crows.”
“Why the Crows?” Kera asked, placing her feet on the floor and sitting up. “What did they do? Why does everybody hate them?”
The two Ravens and one Valkyrie stared at Kera.
“What?” she finally asked.
“Why do you keep saying ‘them’ and ‘they’?” Katja asked. “When you should be saying ‘we’ and ‘us’?”
“I just got kicked in the twat by one of them. I don’t think they count me as part of the gang.”
“Stieg used to fight everybody when he got here.” Siggy reached across Kera to again try to get the remote, and again was rebuffed by Stieg’s fist. “He was a total asshole.”
“And you were all rich douche bags.”
Katja patted Stieg on the shoulder. “He was kind of rough when he got here.”
“Because that’s where I was raised. In the rough part of town.”
“How did you get here?” Kera asked.
“First I was in foster homes in the Valley, but I kept getting bigger . . . and bigger. And then I topped six-four but I was only thirteen, so no one really wanted to take me in.”
“Because you were tall?”
“Because I was six-four, two hundred and thirty-pounds. All of it muscle and bad attitude.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So I went to a group home and then a couple of Raven Elders showed up when I was about sixteen.”
Siggy smirked. “He told them to fuck off.”
“Yeah. I did. Then Odin showed up. Told him to fuck off, too.”
Katja laughed. “Odin was so mad.”
“I didn’t care. They left me to rot for sixteen years and suddenly they show up and act like I’m supposed to be grateful.”
“So what changed your mind?”
“They bought me a car. It was a really nice car.”
Kera patted his knee. “Of course.”
“What’s that tone?”
“Men are so easy. With the promise of a nice car or a pretty girl with a slutty side . . . you guys will happily hand your souls over to a god.”
“You handed your soul over to a god.”
“I had a knife in my chest and I was dying in an alleyway. It’s not like I had a lot of choices. Besides, I was worried about—” Kera stopped and looked around the room. “Where’s my dog?”
“Three Crows showed up and took her.”
Kera’s mouth dropped open. “And you let them?”
“They said they were going for a run and wanted her to go with them. They didn’t ask about you.” Stieg glanced at Kera. “I think they like the dog better than you.”
“Yeah,” Kera was forced to agree. “I think so, too.”
Vig didn’t mean to take so long getting food, but he’d had trouble deciding what to cook for Kera. Was she a sauce person? Did she like a lot of vegetables or was she more meat and potatoes? Should he get a good wine or go with a solid craft beer?
And now, as he walked up to his house, he realized what all that indecision had cost him. Privacy.
It was hard enough finding privacy when one was a Raven. The brothers tended to encroach whenever they felt like it. But that was one of the reasons Vig loved his house. He hadn’t really wanted to get an apartment or a house somewhere else. With his business, it helped to be easily found by the other Clans. Plus his sister was helping him set up an online business for the non-Clan, battle-re-creation types. And the Valkyries had territory near the Ravens. So it all worked out . . . except now.
Now it was not working out.
A metal table that Vig had created a few years back had been pulled out from his storage shed and several random chairs placed around it. Stieg and Siggy sat on either side of the table. Rolf sat at one end and Kera at the other. Someone had broken into Vig’s Swedish beer stash and his wheat crackers. Which was just a weird combination.
“Good. You’re back,” Siggy announced. “I hope you brought a lot of food. We’re starving.”
Vig stood at the table, glaring down at his Raven brothers. “I didn’t bring enough food for all of you because all of you are not invited.”
“That seems kind of bitchy.”
Vig kicked the table and it slammed into Siggy’s chest.
“Motherfu—”
“Shut up, Siggy,” Kat ordered, quickly walking around the table and grabbing Vig by the arm. “With me,” she ordered him.
Kat pulled him up the porch and into the house. “Let them stay,” she said.
“I don’t want to. This is my chance to—”
“No.”
“No what?”
“No, this isn’t your chance to nail your little Crow to the wall in an orgy of Viking sex.”
“But—”
“No.”
Vig put the bags down on the kitchen table. “Why not?”
“She’s been through a lot. All she needs right now is a friend.”
“Can’t we be friends and—”
“No. Besides, Vig, she just recently stopped wearing an ice pack on her crotch. Give the girl some time.”
“That’s fine. But why do I have to let the idiots stay?”
“Honestly? Because you’re too intense. Especially when you’re locked on a target. The guys distract her from . . . you.”
“Now you’re just hurting my feelings.”
Kat hugged Vig. “I know. And I’m not trying to. Just let the guys be the guys and you will look like the smart, quiet, deep-thinking one. She’ll like that. Siggy’s ability to balance stuff on his nose and Stieg’s talk of his car-stealing days will not lure this woman anywhere. She’s got a code, that one. She’s not straying from it.” She brushed her hand against Vig’s jaw. “Besides, any woman you spend more than five minutes with will need to get along with the Ravens.”
“How’s she doing with that?”
“So far, great. But ten years in the military, learning how to handle a bunch of horny, misogynistic American males probably helps. A lot.”
Dinner was simple but delicious. Just the way Kera liked it. Nothing too complicated with a lot of heavy sauces or too much seasoning. Instead, Vig went for chicken, lightly seasoned, green beans and potatoes, and a green salad with a vinaigrette dressing. Perfect and just what she needed after a shitty day.
And God, such a shitty day. But Vig and his Raven brothers—Kat had a date so she’d left while Vig was cooking—were trying to help. They understood how hard it must be not to be born into this life but to be dragged into it suddenly. Then expected to just “get it.” To just understand all that was going on and be okay with it.
It was a shame her “sisters” couldn’t quite grasp that. Especially since they’d all been through the same
thing.
As the four of them chatted and the sun began to set, the activity picked up.
Kera kept looking up when she heard the sound of wings overhead.
“So you only work at night?”
“We only go into battle at night,” Vig replied. “Odin will only hide our wings—and by extension, us—at night.”
“Does that go for all the other Clans?”
“Just for the Protectors. They also have wings. But the Valkyrie horses and the Valkyries themselves travel whenever they have to.”
“Because who knows where in the world a battle might happen,” Rolf added. “The Valkyries have to be ready to go whenever Odin needs them to, so they can collect his warrior souls.”
“When do you think I’ll go into battle?” Kera asked, reaching for a bottle of water that was in a basket of ice under the table.
“Tomorrow maybe.”
Kera was so surprised by that reply, she rammed the back of her head into the edge of the table when she shot back up.
“Ow!”
“You okay?”
“What do you mean tomorrow?”
“Your wings are out. That means you’re ready.”
“What if I don’t think I’m ready?”
Stieg stared at Kera and asked, “At what point have the Crows showed you that they care about what you think?”
“Thanks, Stieg.”
“Just being honest. Because the Crows aren’t going to care. They’re going to throw you in the pit and you will sink or swim on your own. More coffee?”
Kera shook her head.
“You’ll be fine,” Vig told her. “Everything you need to survive in battle is already within you. Just have faith.”
Brodie’s bark came from the trees surrounding the house and she suddenly charged out. Her tongue was hanging out and Kera was betting she was exhausted but happy.
As she petted her dog’s soft fur and accepted all those kisses on her face, a female voice from somewhere on the Raven territory yelled out, “Thanks!”
Kera shrugged and yelled back, “You’re welcome!” Although she had no idea who the hell she was talking to.
“Do you have dessert?” Siggy asked Vig.
“Yeah.”