Free The Undoing by Shelly Laurenston

idea.”
    â€œWhere did she go?” he asked, looking out the door.
    Ski pointed. “She took off running that way.”
    â€œRunning?”
    â€œI could be wrong . . . but I think she’s running back to Malibu.”
    Gundo blinked. “The Bird House is like twenty miles from here.”
    â€œYeah.”
    They stared at each other a second before shrugging and going back into the house.
    Â 
    Jace was running down the sidewalk when she heard a car horn. At first, she refused to look, in no mood to field lecherous attacks from idiot men, but the horn didn’t stop. So she put on her best glare and looked over, nasty words in Albanian on her lips. But it was Danski Eriksen.
    â€œI can drive you,” he said through the open passenger window.
    With a stitch in her side and sweat pouring down her face, Jace decided that might be a good idea.
    Flying she might be good at and could do for hours, but running. . . clearly not her strong suit.
    She walked to the corner, and the car stopped in front of her. She got in and closed the door.
    The car was nice. Really nice. A top-of-the-line Mercedes. Like her father, Jace had a weakness for cars. She didn’t drive much, though. In fact, she’d only gotten her license two years back when she’d become a Crow. And she’d never driven her sister-Crows anywhere. Ever.
    Eriksen pulled back into traffic. When they stopped at a light, he brought up the Bird House address on his GPS and let it do the rest of the work.
    They drove in silence for a good twenty minutes until Eriksen asked, “So, what made you change your mind? About working for us?”
    â€œDoes it matter?”
    â€œIt might. You’re a Crow. For all I know the whole lot of you could be up to something.”
    â€œWe’re not.”
    â€œWell that’s good.”
    Jace continued to stare out the window, believing the conversation was over.
    It wasn’t.
    â€œSo what made you change your mind?”
    â€œTiming.”
    â€œAh. I see. Timing is always very important.”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œWill your sisters have a problem with you working with us?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œAre you worried?”
    â€œNo.” But she was worried this conversation would never end. Why wouldn’t it end? Was he going to insist on talking to her while she was working, too? She doubted that. They needed the translations done, so she doubted Eriksen or any of the Protectors would waste precious time by insisting on painful chitchat.
    Jace knew that almost all of her sister-Crows would take this time to get to know someone as handsome as Danski Eriksen. Except that Jace didn’t really have anything to say. Nothing of importance anyway.
    And she’d promised herself two years ago, when she’d landed in her Second Life, that she would never force herself to indulge in “small talk” ever, ever, ever again.
    Even for someone as adorable as Danski Eriksen . . . who was still talking.
    Studying everything around her outside of the car, Jace made her move.
    Â 
    Ski heard the passenger door close, and he looked to see the seat beside him empty.
    â€œDid she combat-roll into the street?” he asked absolutely no one.
    Hitting the brakes, Ski stopped his car and jumped out, gazing over his roof while ignoring the honking horns and cursing coming from the drivers around him.
    Mouth open, he watched Jacinda Berisha run across the Pacific Coast Highway—managing somehow not to get mowed down by anyone—and run up John Tyler Drive.
    â€œThank you!” she yelled out as she kept running. Running like the devil himself was behind her.
    â€œMove your car, asshole!”
    Annoyed, Ski snapped his head around. The female driver squeaked in shock, and Ski realized he was not keeping control of himself. It was never good to show the Unknowing—as they were called by the Clans—what his kind truly was. They simply