Yager winced. Goddamn horny Mike. Out of principal, he should leave Mike Molinski to the not-‐so-‐tender mercies of the Crows.
“So, trust me when I say I’d have fun making him cry…now, give it.” She still had her hand out and now she wiggled her fingers.
Yager 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 turning Neecy around, and dragged her against his body. Both his arms held her tight.
“Get Mike!” he barked at his team.
Now Neecy was pissed and she showed it. She struggled to get herself 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 this 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, 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 into 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!”
“Come to me,” she bellowed, her voice ricocheting off the alley walls.
Both sides froze in mid-‐attack and immediately looked 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 up. Her team pulled themselves out of the body pile and again stood behind Neecy while the Ravens helped Mike up.
Neecy folded her arms across her chest. “Guess you better get your men out of here, Yager. I’d hate for anything to happen to them.”
“Fine,” he snapped. “Ravens…go.” They 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 and the Crows and poor dying David.
Neecy looked bored, but he knew better. “Yager. I’m not kidding. They’re coming,” she pushed again.
“I know,” he answered simply.
Her smug smile suddenly wavered a bit. “Look, you’ve got Odin’s rune…so go.”
He stared at her, his arms folding in front of his chest, mimicking her stance.
“Yager,” she warned again.
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. He shouldn’t bother. He’d never leave the alley alive.
“Yager!”
Finally, Yager heard it. The flapping of wings. Many, many wings.
“Neecy,” Janelle MacKenna, 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, “Fine. Go.” And another emotion passed her face. The emotion of annoyance. “Please,” she spit out.
Finally, he 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 throng 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 Raven’s Jersey safe house, he could hear Neecy yelling at him.
“I hate you, Will Yager! And the long boat 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! Do it again!” Katie begged.
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 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.” If she showed them how very angry she truly was, she’d definitely never hear the end of it.
Yager always flirted with her. Always showed her some interest over the many years they’d known each other. But in the last year 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 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 made them paranoid. They always thought she was plotting—mostly 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 pot-‐head 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 wore that day, she couldn’t have been wearing a vest. Plus all that blood was kind of a giveaway too. But there she was…turning state’s evidence against his ass.
He really wanted her dead then. From Rikers, he sent his boys to take her out.