Shelly Laurenston: Shelly Laurenston

When Skuld rode with the Valkyries, she would choose among the slain who would go to Valhalla. Now that she chose her own warriors, nothing had changed. She only had one requirement for those who wanted to commit their lives to her service…they had to be taking their last breath.

“Give it up, little man,” Yager ordered as he took firm hold of David’s hair, keeping him from running away. Yager hated chasing anybody. “And we’ll give you a quick death. We can promise they won’t.”

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 his shoulders and yanked him away from the dubious safety of the Ravens.

Yager winced in sympathy. David definitely lost hair and some of his scalp in that transfer.

“This one is ours, Yager.”

Neecy Lawrence. Second in command of the Jersey Crows. Lethal with a blade and her talons. Stubborn, tough, brutally honest, and the hottest piece of ass on the East Coast.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t yours. We’re just here to help…and get Odin’s rune.

Which I believe is somewhere on him.” Yager snatched David back.

“Look. It’s too late,” Neecy promised.

As always, she and her team wore the requisite Crow fighting gear: black jeans, black steel-‐toe boots, white racer-‐back tank 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 cold. Otherwise the Elder Ravens called them pussies.

“He’s already used the rune and given a sacrifice,” Neecy continued. “His tongue specifically. Once they use it, the prey belongs to us. And Skuld gave me orders to bring that rune back to her, so I guess you’re shit out of luck, huh?” She yanked the man back.

“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 it. I’m bringing the rune back 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?” 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. She 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. 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. Only one woman stood between her 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 rest 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 let grow long in the front lately. So long, her bangs nearly covered her gorgeous black eyes. Brown-‐skinned, no one really knew what Neecy 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 something else. 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 of her feet into his chest, sending him back into his men. The momentum of her attack sent her body flipping back in mid-‐air. When she landed, she did it silently, landing firmly on two feet.

“Katie,” she barked.

“Got him.” Katie Clark. A vicious little redhead, who died when she tried to stop a knife fight between two friends, took firm hold of David. Talons burst from her hand and she ripped his side open with one swipe. Then she dug her hand into his open flesh, ignoring his unintelligible screams of pain.

“Oh, quit whining, ya big baby. You brought this shit on yourself.”

She pulled her hand out of his body, the rune he’d given 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 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 to the ground.

A second of stunned silence followed. Yager never expected him to do that.

Actually, none of the Ravens expected him to do that. They watched silently as Mike reached down and snatched the rune from her hand. He 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 hurt 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 boy never knew when not to push it.

Mike waited for Katie to make her move and that was his mistake. He didn’t see Connie Vega, who 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 all 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.