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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
IT WAS WELL PAST TWO O’CLOCK 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.”
“I wouldn’t like to think so. I suppose that makes me an idealist.”
Gerald waved his hand, dismissively. “This is all silliness anyway. Birmingham got under my skin a little tonight, but there’s no chance of a Leap Day birth. None at all.”
“I’m glad my son was born already.” Ian shuddered. “I really wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Did you really mean to pull in the entire Nightshade Gang tonight?”
Chuckle. “No. I used the Scottish Play to snare the leader, not realizing the other demons were anywhere around.”
“Well, everybody at the Institute will think you’re a hero. If you didn’t have such long legs, I don’t think you would’ve made it.”
“Not without you, at any rate. The whole episode was a clumsy accident on my part.” Gerald paused. “Did I tell you Hannah is having a girl?”
“That’s wonderful!”
“Yeah, we’re going to name her Elizabeth.”
“Maybe our kids can grow up together, and be best mates like us.”
“Jolly good.”
They clinked glasses and drained the last of the ale.
February 28th, London
Frantic, Gerald paced next to Hannah’s hospital bed as she grunted with the effort of yet another strong contraction. A white-uniformed woman came into the room to check the fetal monitors, and nodded with satisfaction. “The baby has a nice, strong heartbeat, dearies. The labor is progressing very well.”
Gerald took the nurse aside. “Where is Dr. Schaeffer? I called him before we left home.”
“He’s caught in a traffic jam, I’m afraid, but he’ll be here directly.”
“You don’t understand. We’ve got to have a C-section immediately. Is there another doctor on call?”
The nurse’s eyes widened. “The baby’s in no distress, so there’s no reason to rush into surgery, willy nilly! Dr. Schaeffer didn’t mention anything about it when he called me from his cell phone.”
“Is there any way to stop the labor altogether or speed it up?”
“You must let nature take its course!” the nurse scolded. “Now don’t fret, Mr. Arthur. Having a baby sometimes puts odd notions in our heads. Don’t pressure your poor wife any further.”
The nurse left, and Gerald returned to his wife’s side. A tear slid down her face as she reached for his hand. “I’m so sorry!”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Does anyone at the Institute know I’m in labor?”
“I called Ian. If anyone asks, he’s going to say I’m home with the stomach flu.”
Hannah peered at the analog clock on the wall. “It’s only eight. As soon as the doctor arrives, he’ll do the Cesarean and everything will be fine.”
“Yes, of course it will.”
Gerald squeezed her hand, but inside he was in turmoil. Events seemed to be conspiring against them, and he was horribly worried. Hannah had been fine up until her water broke an hour ago. At thirty-seven weeks of gestation, the baby wouldn’t be premature, exactly, but unless she arrived before midnight there would literally be hell to pay.
When Dr. Schaeffer appeared in the hospital room, Hannah’s contractions had reached a critical stage. After he scrubbed and examined her, he gave the nurse instructions to prepare for delivery.
“What about the C-section?” Gerald asked.
“Labor is progressing so rapidly there’s no need,” the doctor said. “You’ll be a father in an hour. Two at the most.”
The wall clock read just after nine, so Gerald breathed a sigh of sweet relief. Now I can concentrate on Hannah! Although he acknowledged his wife was doing almost all the work, he helped her as best he could. At long last, little Elizabeth arrived. Gerald was an emotional wreck, but the doctor and nurse were all smiles.
“Well, congratulations!” Dr. Schaeffer said. “Mr. and Mrs. Arthur, you’re the proud parents of a Leap Day baby.”
“What?” Hannah managed.
Shock. “No, doctor, it’s only ten thirty!” Gerald exclaimed.
The nurse clucked her tongue. “I’m sorry. That clock is notoriously slow. The computer monitor puts the time of birth at one minute after midnight.”
Neither the doctor nor nurse understood why Hannah suddenly burst into tears.
Disguised as a bearded delivery man, Ian arrived at the Arthur’s flat. Gerald wouldn’t let him in until he’d uttered the password phrase they’d used with one another for years.
“Cabbages and kings.”
Gerald’s expression as he let him in was tense. “Is Birmingham on to us?”
“I don’t think so.” Ian glanced down at the luggage stacked nearby. “Looks like you’re ready?”
Hannah was pacing in the living room with the baby in her arms. Ian’s heart broke at the dark circles under the beautiful woman’s eyes.
“How are you getting along?” he asked.
A shrug. “As well as could be expected, I suppose.”
“You pinched the charts from the hospital, I hope?”
“Of course,” Gerald said.
“Good. There’s nothing we can do about the doctor or nurse, but we don’t want any written records of Elizabeth’s birth.”
Ian emptied his brown leather satchel onto the table. Three passports and a large quantity of American currency fell out.
Hannah gaped. “My heavens, can you afford this?”
“My parents have a large estate in Surrey, and I don’t have to work a day in my life if I choose. Trust me, I won’t miss it.”
“You might be filthy, stinking rich, but we’re grateful for your generosity all the same,” Gerald said.
“Truly, we can’t thank you enough,” Hannah said.
She set the baby down in a Moses basket so she could examine the passports. From his inside coat pocket, Ian produced a note and handed it to Gerald. “When you get to Los Angeles, go to this address.”
Gerald read the name on the paper. “Misty Savannah? Isn’t she a pop singer?”
“The very same.”
“What’s your connection with her?”
“When my mother studied nursing in the States years ago, Misty was her roommate. They’ve kept in touch ever since. I know she’ll help you in any way she can, and there’s no way Birmingham can trace you to her.”
“Is she Nephilim?”
“No. Tell her only that you’re old friends of mine.”
Hannah glanced up from the passports, which were open in her hand. “You do beautiful work, Ian.”
A whisper of a smile curved Ian’s lips. “I was a forger in another life, I think. Your new names are now Ann, Charles, and Victoria Moss.”
“Victoria? I like that,” Hannah said. “We’ll call her Tori.”
“As soon as it gets dark, drive north to Scotland. Take a flight from Glasgow. Don’t use credit cards or your cell phone,” Ian said. “In fact, you should probably leave all that stuff here. When you get to America, change your accent and your appearance as much as possible. Say nothing that would connect you to your former life. Are you prepared to do all that?”
Hann
ah lifted her chin. “We’d do anything to protect the baby.”
“We’re grateful to you, Ian,” Gerald said. “More than we can express.”
“You’d do the same for me.” Ian hunched his shoulders, feeling suddenly awkward. “I guess this is good-bye, then. I’ll try to visit you every so often.”
As Ian stared at his friends, moisture pricked the back of his eyelids. He’d known Gerald since they were children, and he regarded him almost like a brother. The two men exchanged a hug, and Ian deposited a kiss on Hannah’s cheek.
“Godspeed, my friends.” With one last nod, Ian left.
Chapter Two
City of Demons
Los Angeles, California. Almost eighteen years later…
AT THE END OF CLASS, the students sank into graceful reverences. A chorus of “Merci, Madame!” followed, but before the students had finished clapping, the lithe, gray-haired instructor held up her hands.
“Ladies, I have an announcement. The Saltare Ballet Theatre is coming to Los Angeles for a summer engagement. On the first Saturday in February, Mr. Saltare will be holding auditions for local dancers. If selected, you’ll be invited to take class with the company in the spring and perhaps perform in the corps.”
Gasps of excitement ensued.
“For those wishing to audition, applications are available in my office.” Although Madame Martine addressed all her students, her proud gaze rested on Tori Moss. “I expect to have a good showing from my pupils!”
As the class broke up, girlish chatter turned elegant aspiring ballerinas back into normal teenagers. Tori was immediately flanked by her two best friends.
“We’ll all audition,” Tori said. “Agreed?”
“I’ll go, but I’m not holding my breath,” Deborah said.
“Me neither,” Jenny said.
A dreamy smile lit Deborah’s face. “Even if it’s just for the summer, joining SBT is a fabulous opportunity.”
“Wouldn’t it be awesome if the three of us made it into the corps?” Tori asked.
Dancing With Raven (The Young Shakespeareans Series) Page 1