“Apparently.”

Stieg mulled that over for a few seconds before he shrugged and said, “Yeah, okay.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Sitting in the trees, the Crows stared down at the house that Brodie had led them all to. They stared . . . and stared.

“This can’t be right,” Erin finally said.

“But why would she bring us here otherwise?” Kera asked. “If this wasn’t the place?”

“It would actually explain a lot,” Tessa pointed out. “The harassment, the lawsuit . . . the Mara being at our house.”

“But do you really think some ridiculous rich people would spend their time trying to raise Gullveig?” Annalisa asked. “She’s mentioned, like, once in the Eddas.”

The Crows looked at each other and said together, “Yeah, they would.”

“Chloe,” a male voice whispered. “Chloe. Psst.”

Chloe’s eyes crossed, she sighed, and finally demanded, “What?”

“Don’t snarl at me, woman,” Josef snapped.

“Don’t ‘woman’ me!”

Brodie growled and Kera realized why. “Chloe, look.”

It was the strangest thing Kera had ever seen. The Mara were crawling out of the dirt around the yard and onto the outside of the house.

“They traveled underground.” Erin glanced at Kera. “That’s so weird. It’s like they’re moles.”

“We’re definitely in the right place.”

“Yeah, but . . . what the fuck are they doing?”

“Whatever it is,” Vig said, “I’m guessing your annoying neighbors are definitely involved . . .”

Simone slipped off her robe and stood naked in front of the crowd of her richest friends. She’d had a lot of plastic surgery done—especially on her ass and tits—before any of this got serious, so she knew she looked good.

Smirking, she raised her arms in the air, about to repeat the words she’d forced herself to learn over the last few days. It was some Old Norse thing and she didn’t understand a word of it, but none of that mattered. What mattered was the power she’d have once she’d become one with Gullveig.

But their victim or sacrifice or whatever Simone was supposed to call her kept yelling behind her gag. It was distracting!

“Shut up!” Simone snarled at Brianna. “You’re being such a pain right now! Waaa, waaa, waaa! That’s all you do!”

Simone let out a sigh and faced her friends. Now, it was true, Simone could have spent her money to get all this together, but . . . why? When she knew people with money? Why should she have to spend her own money to bring an ancient goddess into this world? What if it didn’t work? Then she’d have spent her money for nothing.How was that fair?

Blocking out the screaming and whining coming from behind her—such an annoying whiner!—Simone intoned the words she’d forced herself to phonetically learn and waited for the power of Gullveig to flow through her so that she could kill the sacrifice and make herself one with the goddess.

And Simone . . . kept waiting. And waiting.

After more than thirty seconds—she was rich! Why should she wait for anything?—Simone glanced at her assistant. “What’s happening?”

Darrbee—God, she really loved that girl’s name—pushed her glasses back on her nose and quickly flicked through the book.

“Um . . . uh . . .”

“Well?” Simone pushed, starting to feel very foolish with her arms up like this.

“We did everything we were supposed to. We offered her gold and jewels. We sacrificed that poor goat. Our human sacrifice is wearing that Bring-a-man necklace.” She skimmed the pages a little further. “You spoke the weird words . . .” Darrbee shrugged. “I don’t understand it. You did everything you’re supposed to do.”

Simone dropped her arms. “Give me the damn book,” she snarled, snatching it out of Darrbee’s hands.

“Uh . . . Simone dear,” one of her idiot friends interrupted.

“What?”

“Do you smell that?”

Rolling her eyes, Simone looked down at the woman. “Smell what?” she snapped.

“Gas?”

Simone sniffed the air and yes. She did smell gas.

Tossing the book back to Darrbee, Simone grabbed her robe and pulled it back on before walking down the steps of the stage and across the ballroom. She reached the double doors and pulled on them. When nothing happened, she pulled again.

“Dammit, Darrbee. I thought I told you no locked doors!”

It wasn’t that Darrbee didn’t answer that bothered Simone. It was the deafening silence.

Slowly, Simone turned. Her assistant still stood on the stage, a small smile on her face. Then that small smile turned wide . . . then wider . . . then it split her entire face, revealing triple rows of nothing but small, bright black fangs.

Without a word, Darrbee’s body flipped up and, like a parasite, she attached herself to the ceiling. Then, in seconds, she was across the room and out an air duct. The problem was, the air duct was sealed closed once she’d gone through.

“Smoke!” someone yelled, pointing at another door that wouldn’t open.

Simone refused to panic, even while everyone else did. Instead, she marched across the room to the large glass doorways. She grabbed two of the bigger men and motioned to a metal end table.

“Use that to break the glass!” she ordered.