Dancing With Raven (The Young Shakespeareans Series)

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Title Page

Dancing with Raven

The Young Shakespeareans series
book one

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S. G. Rogers

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Idunn Court Publishing

Copyright Information

Dancing with Raven, Copyright © 2014 by S. G. Rogers

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

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This book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.

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Idunn Court Publishing
7 Ramshorn Court
Savannah, GA 31411

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Published by Idunn Court Publishing, July 2014

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This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this book can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.

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Published in the United States of America

Editor: Kathryn Riley Miller

Cover Design: Lex Valentine

Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the dancers within us all.

Introductory Quotation

Genesis 6:1–4

(New King James Version)

1
Now it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born to them,
2
that the sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves of all whom they chose.
3
And the LORD said, “My spirit shall not strive with man forever, for he is indeed flesh; yet his days shall be one hundred and twenty years.”
4
There were giants on the earth in those days; and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of men and they bore children to them. Those were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown…

…otherwise known as the
Nephilim
.

Chapter One

The Prohibition

February 15th, London, Leap Year

I
T
W
AS
W
ELL
P
AST
T
WO
O’C
LOCK
in the morning. Gerald Arthur longed to score and thereafter get home to his pregnant wife. Dressed in a black trench coat, he glanced at the green-eyed beauty loitering nearby in the deserted London Underground platform. Most men would have fixated on her ample breasts and the sculpted thighs left bare by a tiny miniskirt, but Gerald knew she wasn’t what she appeared to be. He pretended not to notice the long tail undulating from underneath her skirt, or the fangs rendered dazzling white by the woman’s dark red lipstick. This particular demon was responsible for the death of over a dozen hapless men just in the past year, but tonight was to be her last night on Earth.

With a swish of her tail, she crooked a finger in his direction. “Fancy some company, lad?”

Although he nodded, he eased backward. The demon’s tail contained a sting so lethal, if it should pierce his skin he’d be dead within the hour.

“Don’t be shy,” she said.

His partner had asked him merely to flush her out so he could bag the kill, but Gerald was impatient to get on with it. “What’s your name?”

“Whatever you want it to be, luv.” The tips of her forked tongue moistened her full lips.

Gerald’s fingers tightened on the pair of pure silver throwing stars nestled in his hands. “How about I call you…
Macbeth!”

The demon’s eyes flashed red and her lips pulled back. “
Nephilim!”

When she launched herself toward Gerald, he hadn’t counted on her stride being so long in her spiky-heeled boots. Nevertheless, his aim was true; the throwing stars pierced the demon’s throat and sternum. With a howl worthy of a banshee, the demon burst into ashes. After the motes settled, Gerald bent to retrieve his weapons. A shiver of apprehension alerted him to danger. He glanced up to discover a gaggle of scantily-clad demons loping toward him, clearly bent on revenge.

The whole Nightshade gang! Blast it, I should have stuck to the plan!

He darted off, hurtling up a horrendously long staircase, two steps at a time. The pack of demons followed, the click of their heels making staccato noises as they climbed. Up ahead was the Tube exit, where his partner waited. When Ian spotted him and his pursuers, his laughter echoed off the tiled walls. “Best lay tracks, Gerald!”

“I’m glad my predicament is such good sport!”

“Get down, you bloody idiot!”

At the next landing, Gerald dove to the ground, barking his shins and elbows in the process. Silver-tipped darts whizzed over his head, launched from the compact crossbow which was standard issue for Shakespearean Institute demon hunters. A glance over his shoulder revealed a huge cloud of ash where the pack of demons had just been slain. He drew a deep breath of relief.
That was too close.

Still grinning, Ian came to help him to his feet. “I didn’t know you could move that fast. You should’ve seen the look of panic on your face!”

“We all get more than we bargain for from time to time,” Gerald mumbled.

“Which is why it’s important to always follow the rules,” a distinctive voice rang out.

Startled, Gerald turned to see the director of the Shakespearean Institute, the demon-hunting organization comprised of Nephilim.

“Lord Birmingham! What brings you here tonight, sir?” Gerald asked.

Birmingham dangled a set of car keys from one finger. “Since it’s late, I brought a car around. Thought you two might like a lift back to the Institute.” He tossed the keys to Ian. “Why don’t you wait for us?”

Gerald and Ian exchanged a glance.

“Yes, sir.” Ian ambled off.

When he was out of earshot, Birmingham put his hand on Gerald’s shoulder. “You were to flush
one
demon out tonight, not use yourself for bait for the entire Nightshade gang. It was brave, but foolish.”

“Er…yes, sir.” Gerald cast about for a change of subject. “I haven’t had the opportunity to congratulate you on the birth of your grandchildren.”

“Thank you. It’s a bit of a thrill, I confess.”

“Twins, weren’t they?”

“A girl and a boy, healthy as can be. Speaking of which, I understand your wife is due at the end of February.”

“No, she’s not supposed to have the baby until the third week of March.”

“Babies have their own timetable, you know. It’s a Leap Year, and therefore imperative the child not be born on February twenty-ninth.”

“Hannah and I both understand the prohibition, sir. Don’t worry.”

“But I
do
worry. It’s my job to make sure eighteen years from now we don’t have the Apocalypse.”

“Nobody wants that. Plans are in place to prevent a Leap Day birth.”

“I’ll be monitoring the situation. If it becomes necessary, I’ll be forced to take preventative measures.”

Stunned, Gerald gaped. Birmingham, seemingly oblivious, strode toward the car.

After they checked their weapons in at the Institute, Ian and Gerald stopped at a dingy tavern. In a dark corner booth, Gerald told his partner about his brief conversation with Birmingham. Ian peered at him, bemused. “
Preventative measures?
I wonder what he meant by that?”

“I’m afraid it can mean only one thing.”

Leaning closer to avoid being overheard, Ian lowered his voice. “You don’t think Birmingham would hurt an innocent baby, do you?”

“I can’t guarantee he wouldn’t.” Gerald took a long sip of beer. “The man is a stickler for rules, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Look, I understand the demonic sacrifice of a Leap Day-born Nephilim on his or her eighteenth birthday brings about the Apocalypse. I really do. But it seems to me the Shakespeareans ought to protect such a child, not kill it.”

“I couldn’t agree more. The Shakespeareans are supposed to fight evil.” Gerald sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re not capable of great evil ourselves.”