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"I wish you wouldn't do this." I replied softly looking at the back of Priest's head. He was in a large black coat his curly hair combed and smooth. He was running a sharp blade against his cheek at the moment. His son Amsterdam, was behind him watching him as well. Priest turned to face us now and I merely stood behind the boy. He looked at his child and gave him the knife. Just as Amsterdam moved to wipe it on his pants, Priest stopped him.

"No son. Never. The blood stays." he said and I looked down thinking he would not answer me. "Go son leave us for a moment." I then looked up at him and watched as the boy left us. His intense eyes started at me and I did not look away this time, like I normally did.

"You have fought so many times…I am afraid this may be your last." I replied. Priest took a step towards me and my look of fear only grew.

"Angeni, if I do not do this, my people will never be free…your people, the African Americans, will forever be tortured and seen as second class." he told. I shook my head.

"This is about your people, but I know it is about me too." I replied with tears in my eyes. Priests put his warm hands on my cheek and I leaned in to his touch, his embrace.

"As long as I am alive he will never have you." he stated and I felt his warm lips push against mine and I leaned in returning it. It was deep and passionate as well as forbidden and disgusting to others. I kissed him as if it were the last time I would ever taste his lips. He pulled back and walked around me towards the door and met with Amsterdam before leaving down the hall. My name is Angeni, it means spirit angel to my people. My mother is African and my father is Native American. I came to New York with my parents when I was fifteen. They died of sickness and I was left poor and wandering the streets. I was dirty and covered with bugs when he found me. Priest Vallon, an Irish man. He was like my angel. He took me into his home and his wife, Madeline helped take care of me. They bought me clothes and made sure I got a decent education. Although I could never forget my heritage. Madeline died of sickness and so I helped take care of their son Amsterdam. It was an honor to help raise him. As time grew I found out that Priest was in a large gang called the Dead Rabbits. He had told me much hatred had grown since Irish immigration started coming to New York as well as the civil war. His gang was against a group called The Natives, led by Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting. He was an actual butcher as well. They were born New York men who did not like others coming into their homes and taking up opportunity with the jobs as well as living like Americans. Priest told me to always stay away from him and people who walked beside him.

I didn't know much about anything for I was a child taking care of Priest's child. As I grew up I began to realize how much Priest cared for me and how much I cared for him. I was seventeen now and knew I had fallen in love with the Irishman. But it was not long until I caught the eye of the butcher…

Two months before the fight…

Priest had instructed me to go down to the butcher's store to only buy meat and leave. The butcher we normally went to had closed down leaving Bill with all the customers. I was a black dress that flowed to my ankles, my hair was in two long braids down my cheek. Many people knew I was Priest's friend and so they never bothered me, those who did were never seen. But I always kept a blade on me. Priest taught me a few things on how to defend myself. I slowly came upon the Butcher's store and took a deep breath entering the store. There were many men inside working and cutting up meat and once they saw me they froze, glares piercing their eyes. They hated me already. In the back I saw Bill 'the Butcher' hacking at a pig and I slowly began to confront him. As I did a short bald man stopped me.

"Hey no niggers allowed in here. You get your meat from the back." he said and I stared at him growing a bit nervous. If I replied rudely then I would surely be dragged out, beaten, and lynched.

"Is that anyway to speak to a woman, Charles?" I heard Bill ask his large cutting blade hacking into the pig. He kept his eyes on it until he looked up at me, I could see his glass eye from here. "Even if she is an Irish nigger's nigger." I felt my chest tighten a bit and after those words were said the man known as Charles stepped back. I heard the anger and bitterness in the Butcher's words but I pushed them back since he was somewhat giving me permission to enter his store. I slowly moved up to his cutting table and paused. I was almost stunned at how tall and strong he looked. He just hacked away at the pig and I stared at him.

"Speak before I rip your tongue out rabbit whore." he threatened and I looked up at him. I almost did not have the courage to speak.

"I wish to buy some of your pig." I replied and he glanced up at me.

"So Vallon was too afraid to come down here himself to get his own fucking pig huh? Had to send a woman, much more a nigger." he said and I looked down for a moment before looking up at him.

"Is his money of less worth then your money Mr. Butcher?" I asked and he looked up at me now before placing his knife down and rubbing the blood on his hands on his black apron. He leaned over the table and looked at me now with a polite smile that hid his true satanic side.

"You don't talk like no nigger around here. You don't dress like them or act like them." he stated. I blinked at him my eyes sometimes wondering over towards his glass eyes.

"Not everyone is the same." I said and he grinned.

"Now that's where you're wrong. This use to be the perfect place for good clean American men to live and start families and make a living. But you monkeys and Irish and other sea bitches travel here and demand to be citizens." he said and I was unsure of what to say to his words for I did come here on a boat.

"This land boasts of opportunity to the world…but when the world wishes to test America on its words… they bully everyone and push us out." I replied and he grinned, his perfect curved mustache bending with his grin. He leaned back and began to cut on the pig.

"You got sand girl. But that's to be expected from Vallon's whore." he said and I glared.

"I am NOT his whore." I said almost loudly and now everyone, who was once talking, now grew quiet and Bill looked up at me with almost amusement and then began to laugh loudly causing the men around us to laugh. He started to pull the organs from the pig.

"Oh you are amusing. A nigger with sand." he said before calming his laugh and looking over me for a moment. "But you don't look all nigger. What are you girl?"

I tensed and looked away for a moment.

"I am Native American and African American." I said and he snorted.

"So the red monkeys and the black monkeys are breeding now." he told and laughed a bit.

"And what is your name madam?" he asked and I sighed softly.

"My name is Angeni." I replied and he gave a crooked look.

"The fuck does that even mean?" he asked and I was wondering why we were still talking.

"It means spirit angel." I replied and he laughed once more setting the organs of the pig in bags.

"Oh I thought angels were white." he said and I looked away for a moment.

"Please sir. I would like to buy your meat now." I replied. It was silent for a second and I looked over at the butcher to see him smiling at me even more.

"Oh so you want the butcher's meat huh?" he purred and I felt like this conversation was moving somewhere else. I knew Priest would send men to find me.

"Pig meat." I corrected and he smirked.

"How disappointing. Never had a nigger before." he said and I wondered what he even meant by that. Besides I was seventeen I did not know anything about men…I only knew about Priest. He gave me bags of meat and I handed him the money Priest had given me, but the Butcher shook his head.

"Oh no little monkey, I don't want payment from Vallon, just payment from you." he stated sharply and I tilted my head unsure of what he meant.

"I don't understand." I replied and he smirked.

"Run along little monkey, back down your rabbit hole." he said and I blinked with confusion before walking out and leaving to Priest's home…

Ever since then the Butcher always gave me these looks and stares whenever Priest and I were in the same area as him. Priest knew the Butcher wanted me and he was not going to give me up. I turned and left out the room following the large group of warriors ready to try and reclaim their freedom.

Author's notes.

Hey yall so its been a while since I wrote fanfiction and I had been watching gangs of new york and thought I would come back with this test fanfic most of you know my pairings are white men/black women so if you don't like don't read. Reviews are appreciated.