Hunting Season (The Gathering Book 1)

by Shelly Laurenston

  “Trust me when I say I’d have fun making him cry… So, give it.” She still had her hand out and now she wiggled her fingers.

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  He placed the rune in her palm. As she started to close her hand around it, Yager caught hold of her wrist, quickly turned Neecy around, and dragged her against his body, both his arms holding her tight.

  “Get Mike!” he barked at his team.

  Now Neecy was pissed and she showed it. She struggled to get out of his arms. “You son of a bitch!”

  “You’ve never even met my mother.” How come the angrier she got the calmer he got?

  The Crows and Ravens all dived at Mike and Connie at the same time, creating a rather interesting “pile on” while Neecy struggled in Yager’s arms. She moved one way, then another. And that’s when they both froze.

  Through gritted teeth, she said, “Yager, get your damn hands off my tits!”

  “I’m sorry… I’m grabbing your tits? I didn’t even notice.” Liar! But he just couldn’t resist. Calm, cool Neecy angry? A rare moment and one he planned to savor.

  What he didn’t love… her slamming her booted foot against his instep while yanking her arm away and bringing her elbow back to his chin hard. Yager’s head snapped back as she turned to face him.

  Neecy’s wings lifted her a bit, and she brought her leg up to kick him in the chest. He caught her foot before it could touch him, spun her over, and slammed her down onto the pavement.

  Yager struggled to ignore her yelp of pain, but he still wasn’t about to let her up.

  When she couldn’t get him to release her leg, she looked up at the sky, and he knew exactly what she planned. Man, he was starting to know this woman better than himself.

  “Don’t you dare, Neecy Lawrence!” he ordered.

  “Come to me,” she bellowed, her voice ricocheting off the alley walls.

  Both sides froze in midattack, immediately looking up at the sky. Silence descended because now they were waiting for something worse than all of them put together.

  “Goddammit, Neecy!”

  “Don’t yell at me, Yager. You started this shit.” She yanked her foot away and stood. Her team pulled themselves out of the body pile and moved behind Neecy while the Ravens helped Mike up.

  Neecy folded her arms across her chest, calm and cool once again. “Guess you better get your men out of here, Yager. I’d hate for anything to happen to them.”

  “Fine,” he snapped. “Ravens… go.” His men stared at him. “Now!”

  Three took off, but Mike wouldn’t leave. Pulling the chain from around his throat, he walked up to Yager. “Bro, let’s go.”

  Neecy grinned. “You heard him, Yager. You better go.”

  But he didn’t go. He simply stared at her.

  Mike again looked up at the sky. “Yager. I hear them. We have to go.”

  Yager heard them too, but he wasn’t going anywhere. “Then go.”

  “Without you? No way.”

  “I said go.”

  Sighing in annoyance and resignation, Mike spread his wings and took off. Leaving Yager, the Crows, and poor dying David.

  At the moment, Neecy looked bored, but he knew better. “Yager, I’m not kidding. They’re coming.”

  “I know,” he said simply.

  Her smug smile wavered a bit. “Look, you’ve got Odin’s rune… so go.”

  He continued staring at her, his arms folded in front of his chest, mimicking her stance.

  “Yager,” she pushed, the tiniest hint of panic finally easing into her tone.

  He took a step toward her. “Ask me nice.”

  The other Crows passed surprised glances, but Neecy shook her head. “Are you high? I will not!”

  He shrugged and stood there.

  “Yager, I’m not calling them off.”

  Still, he didn’t move, even though he could see David trying to drag himself away. The guy shouldn’t bother. He’d never leave the alley alive.

  “Yager!”

  What had been distant was now clear—the flapping of wings. Many, many wings.

  “Neecy,” Janelle McKenna, another one shot to death at an early age, muttered softly as she stared up at the sky.

  “Seriously, Yager. Go. They won’t hurt my girls, but you…” Neecy tried to keep her usual calm demeanor, but it wasn’t working. He could see right through it.

  Something black sailed by him and he felt pain rip across his neck. He knew there’d be blood. He didn’t care. Another came by, tearing past his cheek. Another line of blood, he bet.

  “Jesus, Yager,” Neecy whispered.

  “Ask me nice, Neecy,” he ordered. “Ask me nice or I’m staying right here until they’re done.”

  Through gritted teeth, she barked, “Fine. Go.” This time another emotion crossed her face. The emotion of annoyance. “Please,” she spit out.

  Yager smiled. A grin that had Neecy Lawrence glaring at him. “I knew it,” he sighed happily. “I knew you liked me.”

  Then he unfurled his own wings and took off.

  He pushed through the flock of real crows—and even some ravens—that Neecy commanded. They were heading toward David and would leave nothing remaining of the man but his shredded clothes.

  And, as Yager headed back to the Ravens’ Jersey safe house, he could hear Neecy yelling at him from that alley.

  “I hate you, Will Yager! And the longboat your ancestors rowed in on!”

  Chapter Two

  Denise “Neecy” Lawrence landed on the club’s roof. The Gathering booked the place for the night, so she knew the roof doors would be unlocked so those flying in would have a handy entrance.

  “Do it again, Connie!” Katie begged. “Do it again!”

  Neecy stifled her growl as Connie stared up at the sky and shook her fist in the air. “I hate you, Will Yager. I hate you!”

  That performance prompted fresh howling laughter from the rest of her team, and she wondered how bad it would look if she kicked their collective asses… probably really bad.

  “Okay. Let it go,” she told them, knowing that if she showed them how very angry she truly was, she’d never hear the end of it.

  To be honest, it would help if she knew what the fuck was going on. Yager had always flirted with her. Had always shown her some interest over the many years they’d known each other. But in the last twelve months or so he’d suddenly become relentless. She could only guess he was looking to slum it a bit. Unlike Yager, Neecy didn’t have a fine Nordic-American family upbringing. Mostly because she never had a family.

  Some homeless guy found her in a Dumpster over on 118th Street. A sickly brown baby who, in the end, no one wanted. She was in a Catholic orphanage until she turned nine and then she started making the foster-home rounds. Smart and quiet, she didn’t last very long with any of her foster families. She’d made them paranoid. They’d always thought she was plotting—and that was probably because she was.

  Growing up, Neecy always knew there was better out there and she’d become obsessed with finding it. When she turned fifteen, she thought she found her way out. A nineteen-year-old drug dealer who was thoroughly impressed with how well she managed the pothead college kids who came his way. Her brutal honesty and directness made her a surprisingly well-respected dealer in her own right. In the end, though, it was that same honesty that got her blown away. The bastard didn’t even blink when he pulled the trigger.

  And she didn’t blink when she testified against him in court. The best part was when he first saw her alive. He knew he’d killed her. With the tiny tank top she’d been wearing that day, she couldn’t have been wearing a vest. Plus all that blood spouting from her arteries and chest had been kind of a giveaway, too. And yet there she was… turning state’s evidence against his evil ass.

  He’d really wanted her dead then. From Rikers, he sent his boys on the outside to take her down. They had found out she was living in Jersey with some women. Not hard to discover since she�
�d refused protective custody, to the utter bewilderment of the cops. The night before she would finish her testimony, twenty of her old boyfriend’s guys showed up, armed to the teeth and ready to shoot, gut, and rape everything and anything they’d found in that house with Neecy.

  That was also the night Neecy called on her crows for the first time… but only for the remains.

  His screams in court the next day were like music to her ears as she calmly walked up to the stand. To this day he still lived in the mental ward of the little Alabama prison the authorities had transferred him to.

  Ever since then Neecy had worked hard to make up for the person she once was. Worked hard to prove to Skuld, her sisters, and, most importantly, herself that she was better than that little drug-dealing piece of trash she once was, hanging out at college parties and raves.

  She would never stop working to prove that.

  Which meant that Wilhelm Yager was nothing more than an unnecessary distraction to her goal. Because the one thing Neecy could say about all her second-life boyfriends… they always knew better than to get in her way. And they always knew she’d never love them.

  There was only one thing she truly loved these days… and man could those bitches get on her nerves!

  “Why don’t you just go out with him and get it over with?” Janelle asked as she headed toward the rooftop entrance, her dark blonde curls bouncing around her face. That sweet, dimpled face and those big, fat blonde curls hid one of Neecy’s best and most vicious fighters. Like the Ravens, Janelle preferred using her bare hands more than the blades all Crows learned to use. And neither Clan used guns. Not Neecy’s choice, but an edict from their gods. Whatever.

  “Once he finds out how truly unpleasant you are, he’ll definitely leave you alone.”

  “I am not going to date Will Yager. End of subject. And I am not unpleasant. I just don’t gush, and…”

  “Act like a girl?”

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  “Well it may be end of subject for you, maybe… but definitely not for him.”

  Neecy pushed past Janelle and pulled open the roof door. “I am not talking about this anymore. Let it go or I’ll make you wish you’d let it go,” she promised. Calmly.

  Neecy didn’t yell. In fact, only one person ever got her to yell and, if she could, she’d rip the wings from his back.

  The team headed down the stairs leading into the main part of the club. This was one of The Gathering’s favorite hangouts. Owned by Shifters, beings that could change from human to animal in a heartbeat, it was the one place the Crows could go and unfurl their wings in peace.

  Still, they didn’t come here unless they rented out the place. The Shifters hated them.

  “Abominations.” “Acts against the gods.” “Freaks.” Just some of the terms tossed their way by the holier-than-thou dogs, cats, and whatevers that roamed the tri-state area.

  The Shifters tolerated the Ravens, but barely. Yet they outright hated the Crows. Not surprising. As direct descendants of Odin’s elite guard, the Ravens were born with their wings.

  The Crows, however, only got their wings after they pledged their allegiance to the Viking goddess Skuld… and died.

  Skuld only chose from the dying.

  The music was pumping hard by the time the women got to the main floor, but Neecy could still hear the Crows over it. They were loud bitches. Loud, annoying bitches—and she couldn’t imagine her life without them.

  Stripping off her wool sleeves and dumping them on the pile by the exit door, Neecy passed two Shifter bouncers. Wolves, probably. She didn’t know or care. To her they were all cranky dogs and cats with attitude. Like show animals. She patted them on their big chests as she walked by, loving how they flinched.

  Janelle wasn’t as kind. Another street kid like Neecy, Janelle waited until she was between the two big bruisers before she extended her nearly six-foot wings, slapping both men in the face.

  The women’s laughing became hysterical at that point. Man, the Shifters really hated when they were around.

  Neecy walked out into the main area and the entire room exploded into cheers. It wasn’t just the Jersey Crows present tonight. The Alabama Crows were passing through town, heading toward Philly. Hence the party.

  Although Crows didn’t actually need a reason to party, they loved coming up with them.

  Once they’d thrown a party for Neecy when she got a B in geometry. Math being her worst subject, it seemed only right.

  “Well, well, well,” Neecy said, laughing. “The country cousins have come to town.”

  Serena, leader of the ‘Bama Crows, tackled her from behind. A bottle of tequila in one hand and a beer chaser in the other, Serena lived to party—and she had a thing about using hacksaws on her prey.

  “Darlin’ little girl! How are you?”

  Neecy turned around, reached down, and embraced the woman. Because Neecy was six-one, she had to reach down to embrace almost everybody.

  “Serena. I’m so glad you guys could come tonight.” She hated the need to shout over the loud music. Clearly she was inching up in age. Her desire to party lessened with each passing day.

  “If there’s one thing in this life that I’ve learned, darlin’, it’s to never pass up a Jersey Crows party.”

  “Yeah. But I’m just sorry you guys can’t stay longer.”

  Serena hooked her arm through Neecy’s and dragged her toward the bar. “I wish we could, too. But those Philly gals are waitin’ on us. And they are a cranky bunch of bitches, let me tell you.”

  Pushing Neecy into the bar, Serena slammed her bottles down. “Barkeep! A bottle of Russian vodka for this little lady right’chere.”

  “No. No. No.” Neecy shook her head at the bartender. “Bottle of beer. That’s it.”

  “What kind of drink is that?”

  “One that will hopefully keep me out of the gutter… unlike the last time you guys came to town.”

  Yager gritted his teeth as one of the Valkyries, Shawna somebody, gently worked the salve into his battered flesh.

  Damn woman and her big feet of fury. She had no qualms about kicking the shit out of him. Or calling down those goddamn birds of hers. According to legend, Skuld endowed all her warriors with several things: strength, speed, wings, and talons. But some of them received a special skill on top of all that, which belonged only to them.

  For Neecy, it was the ability to call flocks of real crows and ravens to do her bidding. Feared throughout the tri-state area by the Norse Clans, her birds were relentless, brutal, and loyal to her beyond anything Yager had ever seen. No flying south for these birds. They endured the cold just so they could be near her. Kind of like Yager himself.

  “Is it me or does that woman really detest you?”

  He looked at Mike Molinski, who had somehow become the baby brother he never had… and started to realize, he never wanted. “Why do we keep having this conversation?”

  “Because you insist on being the one to deal with her. I can do it.”

  No way would he let Mike anywhere near her. One, because Neecy really would squash the idiot into the ground. Mike was still learning it wasn’t all about strength. He may be stronger than most Crows, but The Gathering—and Neecy in particular—went beyond strength with downright craftiness and evil. And the second reason… well, he didn’t want anybody else touching her. At least anybody with an actual penis.

  It wouldn’t be the first time a Crow and a Raven got together. Some did it for fun. One-night stands or light dating. Others married, had kids. It wasn’t that big a deal. In fact, it made sense. Both groups had big black wings. Both groups were the warriors of Norse gods. True, Odin didn’t like it much. He liked his warriors “undiluted”. Pure Norse blood. Yager’s god could be as bad as the Sicilian Mafia.

  “I can handle her.”

  “Not unless you really start hurting her. I don’t see her pulling any punches. Unlike you.”

  He did pull punches. He couldn’t help himself
. Besides, The Gathering wasn’t their enemy. Every once in a while they may end up on opposite sides, but that was down to the gods. Releasing his aggression on Neecy would only have her responding in kind, which meant all bets would be off. That would be an ugly and brutal fight he’d like to avoid.

  Especially when fighting was the last thing he had in mind when it came to her.

  Tussling maybe, but never fighting.

  Chuckling to himself, Yager pushed the woman’s hands off his ribs. What’s-her-name had stopped handling his wounds and now simply handled him. But he had no interest in her. Lately, he had very little interest in any woman but Neecy Lawrence.

  Yager remembered when he first saw her. They were both sixteen, and Skuld had just called Neecy to The Gathering. He’d accompanied one of the Elder Ravens to the Bird House to meet with their leader at the time. A strange little woman called Mitzy. When the conversation touched on things they believed Yager too young for, they sent him off to explore the house. He stumbled upon Neecy in the backyard.

  Since Neecy wasn’t born with wings she had absolutely no idea what to do with them. He watched her jump up over and over again trying to take off. Getting more and more frustrated in the process. Then she sneezed, her wings extended and caught a breeze, and the next thing he knew she had trapped herself on the roof. When he went up there to get her, Yager thought for sure she’d be grateful for his help… she wasn’t. He made the mistake of suddenly “appearing” on the roof beside her—the Ravens could sometimes move so fast people often didn’t even see them until they were right in front of them.

  That’s what happened with Neecy. All he got out was “Hi” when she screamed and kicked him in the face. She broke his nose and sent him right off the roof. He landed in front of the Elder he’d accompanied, bleeding and trying hard not to cry. Unless you really wanted to suffer, you never cried in front of the Elders.

  Since then, Yager had never stopped thinking about her. But with him going off to Caltech and MIT for his degrees, he only saw her a few times a year at joint Raven-Crow-Valkyrie functions, but to be honest, she never seemed too interested, and he was too young to care.