Shelly Laurenston - Shelly Laurenston

“Next hunt…Arri comes.”

Katie blinked and turned those big blue eyes to Neecy. “Oh?”

“Yeah. So get over it.”

“Does Connie know?”

“Yeah. I told her this morning before she went out with Fran.” Another solid couple, Connie and Fran had been together since they were both sixteen. Even the lesbians had her beat.

“And we’re sure that’s wise?”

“She does. And we’re all here because of Her Blessing. She has faith in Arri. So we give Arri a chance.”

Katie sighed. “Look, don’t get us wrong. We all think Arri is very sweet in a weird sorta way. But the girl can’t fight for shit.”

Poor Neecy. Janelle knew she wanted to argue that point, but she couldn’t. Arri was a creampuff in comparison to most of the Gathering. They all knew it. And at twenty-‐five, the woman had never been out on a hunt for anything but a search for good coffee cake for Sunday brunch. Whereas Janelle started hunting six months after she arrived. Neecy started after three. Neither one had even turned seventeen yet.

Janelle pushed her empty plate away from her. “And if she can’t fight, we’ll spend most of our time trying to protect her.” Because Crows always protected their own—even the messes.

Neecy took a deep breath. “Look, we’ll take her out and we’ll see how it goes.

That’s all we have to do. But she’ll be my responsibility.”

Janelle almost said, “Just like always,” but stopped herself. Neecy took little Arri under her wing from the time the girl arrived. Pretty much what she did with Janelle even though Neecy was barely a year older than her. Her team leader sure did love the underdogs.

“Okay?” She stared intently at both women. “I’ve already got Connie’s buy-‐in on this. But I want yours.”

Janelle and Katie glanced at each other. They knew they could argue this point until the cows came home, but why bother? Skuld was loyal to her warriors, but you fucked with her at your own risk. Their goddess could be mean. Really, really mean.

“Okay,” Janelle sighed. “I’m in.”

Katie shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

Neecy pushed herself away from the table. “Great. Thanks, you guys. I have to head back to the City. Gotta get some class work done for tomorrow. Oh! And don’t say a word to Arri. I’ll tell her myself.” Good. Such a squirrelly little thing, you never knew what Arri would say or do next.

Really, she was a weird little girl.

Once they were alone, Janelle turned to Katie. “So…what do ya really think?”

Katie shook her head. “We are so fucked.”

Karl Waldgrave felt the power of his Goddess flow through him. Felt it like a caress, like a loving lick across his cock. She’d come for him a year ago. Invaded his dreams. She knew what he was and she spoke his language. The language of the Hunter. She’d given him a target. A Hunt to make him proud. A Hunt he could tell his grandchildren about.

He accepted her offer without hesitation. She liked that. She gave him whatever he needed. He already had money, so she gave him disciples. Hunters like himself. The best of the best.

“You are ready,” she whispered seductively in his ear. “You will make me proud.”

He felt her hand slide over his cock, squeeze his balls. He gasped.

“Don’t stop until you kill them all. But bring me the one I want alive.”

“I will. And I won’t stop. I won’t.”

Her lips kissed his neck; her sharp teeth nipped his ear. “Make it easy on yourself. Go for the one they look to as leader. Kill her and the rest will be so easy.”

He nodded as her hand stroked his cock over and over again.

“But don’t underestimate them. They have loyalty to only one and she has chosen them well. Understand?”

He nodded again as she brought him closer and closer to orgasm.

“Good. Now make me proud.”

He came hard at her words. Like he always did. And, seconds later, he awoke on the altar, still crouching over the sacrifice. Its blood covered him as did his own come, his own hand still gripping his cock.

He looked at the disciples surrounding him. “It’s time.”

Yager snatched up the phone, knowing it was the doorman. Without waiting to hear what he had to say, he barked into the phone, “Send him up.” He slammed the receiver down and went back to the bathroom to grab a towel.

Mike wasn’t normally early for anything, especially on a Monday. But Yager always knew there could be a first time. He wrapped the towel around his waist and finished shaving. When the doorbell rang, he frowned. Mike had a key. Bonehead probably lost it … again .

He wiped off the rest of the shaving cream and walked to his front door. “I can’t believe you lost that goddamn key again, Molinski.” He snatched the door open and froze.

Standing in his doorway, wearing a fur-‐lined denim jacket, jeans, a black T-‐shirt, and a black leather backpack was the woman he’d spent a good hour in the shower masturbating to.

“Neecy?”

She stared at him, her mouth slightly open. Then her eyes slid down his body and as soon as they got to his towel she bolted.

“I’ll come back later!”

It took him a good thirty seconds before he realized he hadn’t been hallucinating. That was Neecy Lawrence at his front door. He ran after her, catching up with her at the elevator, pummeling the poor call button.

“Neecy, wait.”

“I’ll take the stairs.”

“I’m on the thirtieth floor.”

“Okay, I’ll go to the roof and fly.”

No way. She wasn’t getting away from him that easy. She’d just gotten through the fire escape door when he grabbed hold of her wrist.

“You know as well as I do that you can’t fly in the middle of the day in New York.

They’ll just shoot your ass down.” Their gods would only cloak them at night.

During the day, they were on their own.

Yager headed back to his apartment, forced to drag the woman behind him. She didn’t exactly kick and scream, but he got the feeling it wouldn’t take much to push her over that edge.

He did manage to get her back inside, though. He closed the door and locked it, although for a wild minute there he thought for sure she’d try and bolt for the windows.

He tightened his grip on her and dragged her to the kitchen. “How about some coffee?”

“No. I don’t drink coffee.”

“Bottled water? Coke? Pepsi?” Vodka? Tequila? An entire brewing plant? Anything to get her to relax. Anything to keep her right there.

“I don’t want anything. And feel free to let me go.”

Yager stopped in the middle of his kitchen and took a deep breath. He turned around without releasing her.

“I don’t want to let you go.”

She stared up at him for a moment, then tried again to pull away. To run from him. “I gotta go.”

“You came all the way from Jersey to tell me you gotta go?”

She sighed and stopped struggling. At least for the moment. “No. I came to find out when we ended up on opposite sides.”

“I didn’t know we were.”

She tried to yank her arm back. “When you get between me and my prey, you can damn-‐well bet that we’re on opposite sides. And would you let me go!”

He did and she slapped herself in the face.

Yager winced. “Sorry.”

She rubbed her slightly wounded eye and sighed again. “Look, I know you guys aren’t gunning for us or anything…”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Bright black eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Maybe we should make a few things clear, Lawrence.”

Could she kill him? Could she possibly get away with it? Nah. The doorman could I.D. her. “Such as?”