Chapter One
New Jersey
One thousand years later…
Glass shattered as a grown man threw himself out of a
fifth-story window. Will Yager closed his eyes and turned
his head to protect himself from the spray of glass. He knew
the man threw himself out that window because that’s what
any sane person would do in a similar situation.
“You can run, David,” a female voice from the man’s
apartment taunted as the man landed hard at Yager’s feet.
“But we’ll find you.”
“Don’t leave, sweetness! I wasn’t nearly done!” another
female voice laughingly added.
The man at his feet—“David”, Yager guessed—struggled to
crawl away. The only reason the man’s back hadn’t snapped
like a twig when he landed was due to the little item he’d
recently stolen. Which was the only reason Yager and his
team were even here on a Saturday night.
Why people insisted on stealing from gods, Yager would never
know.
Reaching down, he grabbed David by the neck and lifted him
to his feet. “Where exactly are you crawling away to, little
man?”
“Trust me.” Yager’s protégé, Mike, chuckled behind him.
“We’re much nicer than the women you just ran from.”
That was true. The Gathering didn’t do rescue missions or
help those in need or involve themselves in the politics of
gods. In fact, The Gathering only answered to one god. A
Fate called Skuld, the Veiled One. A goddess who once rode
with the Valkyries when she got bored, Skuld knew the
future, could bring the dead back to life, and believed in
wisdom. She’d created The Gathering more than a thousand
years ago when Yager’s people still raided monasteries for
sport. Like Odin, she wanted her own warriors, but unlike
Odin, Skuld didn’t choose from the finest Nordic stock.
Instead she chose from the descedents of the girls his
people had stolen. Girls thrown over warriors’ shoulders and
carried away to a cold and foreign land they knew nothing
about. Mike probably put it best when he observed of the two
groups, “The Ravens look like an ad for Hitler Youth while
the Crows look like a big box of crayons.”
In the early days, when Skuld rode with the Valkyries, she
would choose among the slain who would go to Valhalla. And
now that she chose her own warriors, nothing had changed.
For those who wanted to commit their lives to her service
and to The Gathering…they had to be taking their last breath.
“Give it up, little man,” Yager ordered as he took firm hold
of David’s hair and held him in place like he used to hold
his childhood teddy bear. Yager hated chasing anybody. “With
us you’ll get a quick death. But I can promise you won’t get
that from them.”
David shook his head but didn’t speak.
“I’m not even going to ask why you’re here, Yager,” a female
voice calmly stated.
David squealed as strong female hands gripped the man’s
shoulders and yanked him away from the dubious safety of
Yager’s men. Of the Ravens.
Yager winced in sympathy when he realized David definitely
lost hair and some of his scalp in that little transfer.
“This one is ours, Yager.”
Odin help him. The delectable Neecy Lawrence.
Second-in-command to the Jersey Crows, Neecy was lethal with
a blade and her talons. She was also stubborn, tough,
brutally honest, and the hottest piece of ass on the East
Coast. Neecy also made his life a living hell because she
wouldn’t admit the truth—they were perfect together.
“I didn’t say he wasn’t yours, Neecy. We’re just here to
help…and to get Odin’s rune. Which I believe is somewhere on
him.” Yager snatched David back.
“We’re not doing this again,” Neecy promised.
As always, she and her team wore the requisite Crow fighting
gear: black jeans, black steel-toe boots, white racerback
tanks so their wings were unencumbered, and the brand of
their goddess burned deep and black onto their necks. And
because it was the middle of January, tightly fitted wool
sleeves that went from the palms of their hands to their
upper biceps.
The Ravens’ fighting clothes were similar except for the
sleeves. Viking males just had to deal with the freezing
Northeast coast cold. Otherwise the Elder Ravens called them
pussies.
“Besides, he’s already used the rune and given a sacrifice,”
Neecy continued. “His tongue specifically. And you know the
rules—once they use it, the prey belongs to us. And Skuld
gave me orders to bring that rune to her, so I guess you’re
shit out of luck, huh?” She again yanked the man to her.
“Actually you are, baby.” Yager grabbed hold of David by the
neck and pulled him back. “I don’t care if he’s already used
the damn rune. I’m returning it to Odin. You can have the
carcass for all I care.”
“And Odin can go to hell for all I care. And stop
calling me baby.” Neecy took David back, ignoring the
whimpering sound he made.
“Why do you always have to be so difficult?” he asked,
because really…couldn’t they just get married and work the
rest of it out in bed?
Neecy gave that tight smile of hers. The one that told him
she was losing her patience. “You haven’t seen difficult,
Yager. But trust me when I say I can get difficult.” She
wasn’t bragging or uselessly threatening either. Neecy
Lawrence didn’t need to. Her reputation preceded her.
She’d come to Skuld early. Only sixteen when she woke up at
the Bird House, the name for the Jersey safe house many of
the Crows called home. She woke up from dying. The last
thing she probably remembered was her drug-dealer boyfriend
pulling the trigger. Six bullets to the chest—a gift for
warning two undercover cops they’d been made.
Fifteen years later and she ruled the Jersey Crows. In fact,
only one woman stood between Neecy and Skuld. Didi handled
the politics while Neecy handled everything else. Always so
serious, always so determined, Neecy never took her oath to
her goddess lightly and she demanded the best from all the
Crows. A ball-buster she may be, but a fair one.
He took a step toward her. “Neecy.”
“Back off, Yager.” Her wings, glistening blue-black from the
streetlight, spread dangerously away from her body even as
she remained outwardly calm.
Man, he’d never known a woman more beautiful than Neecy.
Short, short straight black hair she’d lately let grow long
in the front. So long, her bangs nearly covered her gorgeous
black eyes. Neecy was brown-skinned and tall, but no one
really knew what she was. Even Neecy. Rumor was someone
found her in a Dumpster when she was barely a day old. She
could be black, Brazilian, Cuban, or a mix of all three or a
mix of something completely different. Yager didn’t know or
care. He only cared about one thing when it came to Neecy
Lawrence. Making her his.
Sighing, he said, “I don’t want to fight you.”
“I know, Yager,” she responded softly. “I know.” Then she
punched him in the face.
Dammit! He should have seen it coming. The calmer she got,
the worse the damage. She only managed to snap his head to
one side, but that gave her enough time to use her wings to
lift her body into the air so she could slam both her feet
into his chest, sending him slamming into his men. The
momentum of her attack sent her body flipping back in
midair. But when she landed, she did it silently and firmly
on two feet.
“Katie,” she barked.
“Got him.” Katie Clark. A vicious little redhead, who’d died
when she tried to stop a knife fight between two friends,
took firm hold of poor, growing-balder-by-the-moment David.
Talons burst from Katie’s hand and she ripped his side open
with one swipe. Then she dug her hand into his open flesh,
snorting at his unintelligible screams of pain.
“Oh, quit whining, ya big baby,” she snapped. “You brought
this shit on yourself.”
She pulled her hand out of his body, the rune he’d given up
parts of himself for held tightly in her bloody fist. Katie
dropped him to the ground like old garbage. Now that the
rune was gone, Yager knew that David felt every ache, every
pain…he felt it all.
“Got it!” Katie cheered.
“Good,” Neecy barked. “Go!”
Katie spread her wings and her feet left the ground. But
Mike charged past all of them, grabbed her around the legs,
and slammed her back down.
A second of stunned silence followed. Yager never expected
him to do that. Actually, none of the Ravens expected Mike
to do that. They watched as he reached down and snatched the
rune from Katie’s hand. Mike shrugged. “What did you expect
me to do?”
Quick to recover, Katie slammed her foot into his knee. She
didn’t use her heel—a six-inch metal spike—so Yager could
only guess she didn’t want to permanently damage him. Mike
still dropped to one knee, though, with an angry grunt of pain.
Katie rolled back and out of his way, quickly coming to her
feet.
“You’re going to get your ass kicked, little boy,” she growled.
“Oooh. A chick threat,” Mike mocked, still kneeling in front
of her. “I love those.” The kid never knew when not to push
it, did he?
Mike waited for Katie to make her move and that was his
mistake. He didn’t see Connie Vega, who’d died when a drunk
driver hit her bicycle, standing behind him. She kicked him
between his shoulder blades, slamming his big body to the
ground. She put her knee against his back while she wrapped
a chain around his neck and pulled.
Mike gritted his teeth and tossed the rune to Yager, who
caught it easily and stared down at Neecy.
She held her hand out. “Give it, Yager.”
“Nope.”
“I’ll let Connie have fun with him if you don’t give it to
me now.”
He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t hurt Mike and we both know
it.” Believe it or not, the Ravens and the Crows were on the
same side.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I wouldn’t kill Mike, but
I wouldn’t think twice about hurting him.”
He couldn’t help but smile. Mike drove everyone crazy, but
the Crows still treated the twenty-seven-year-old like their
baby brother. “Neecy, come on…”
“Exactly how many times do you think I’ve had that
conversation with one of my young sisters, explaining to her
that the reason Mike didn’t call was because he’d already
fucked her and was done?”
Yager winced. Goddamn horny Mike. Out of principal, he
should leave Mike Molinski to the not-so-tender mercies of
the Crows.
“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!”
Finally, Yager heard it. 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!”