Ashen Rayne (Shadowlands Book 1)

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Ashen Rayne (Shadowlands Book 1) Page 1

by Skye Knizley




  The right of Skye Knizley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him/her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it was published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, items, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by: Dreams2Media

  Edited by: Elizabeth A. Lance

  Book design by Inkstain Interior Book Designing

  Text set in Cochin LT.

  Copyright© Skye Knizley 2015

  Smoak™ Smoak and Ash™ and Shadowlands™ are trademarks of Skye Knizley

  All rights reserved.

  ENCOMPASS, INK

  VAMPTASY PUBLISHING

  None of what you are about to read ever happened. Even if it had, it would be classified somewhere and sharing the following tale would result in several court-martials and a stack of lawsuits longer than your arm.

  Besides, nobody can do this stuff for real.

  That’s why it’s called fiction.

  Probably.

  Imagine if you will, two eight-year-old girls playing in a sunny Florida backyard.

  One of the girls is chubby, with blonde hair in long pigtails and purple eyes that seem to see everything. She is wearing a hand-me-down sundress that once belonged to her older sister and a pair of white sneakers. Her face is very serious, except when the other girl laughs. Then she laughs, too.

  The other child is taller than the blonde and very thin. She has so much dark hair it hangs around her like a curtain, almost hiding her tank top, worn jeans and Converse sneakers.

  The girls met an hour ago, and though they haven’t said a word, they’ve been playing like friends of old, sharing toys and building castles in the sand. There comes a pause in the play, accompanied by the rattle of a snake hiding amidst the sand and rocks the children have been toying with. The taller girl continues building in the sand, stacking rocks and blocks to make an archway for their latest creation. She hasn’t heard the snake or her new friend’s warning cry. She hasn’t heard anything. She’s been deaf from birth.

  Without apparent thought, the blonde girl picks up the garden trowel, borrowed from her mother to dig in the sand, and removes the snake’s head with a single blow. The dark-haired girl jumps at the motion and spies the snake lying not far from her bare ankle. She smiles her thanks to the blonde girl, who smiles back, oblivious to the screams of her approaching mother.

  Now imagine this bright afternoon as the catalyst for a friendship that will last decades and become a legend in its own right.

  Two girls, light and dark. Serious and silly.

  Smoak and Ash.

  Shadowlands.

  TEN YEARS LATER…

  She could hear a rhythmic beeping getting louder as consciousness found her, and she grew stronger. The beeping was joined by the sound of her own ragged breathing, the squeak of shoes on waxed linoleum and the beat of her heart. Then her sense of smell returned.

  Pizza? Why do I smell pizza? the girl wondered.

  “Open your eyes, SK. I know you’re awake,” a familiar voice said cheerfully.

  Smoak opened her eyes. A foggy white ceiling hung somewhere above her. After a few seconds, it cleared and she could see the dots in the tiles and the sickly green frames holding everything in place. She could also see sunlight streaming across the ceiling. It was late in the day, almost evening.

  When she had her bearings, she turned to the left. A thin young woman of perhaps seventeen sat on the windowsill, a pizza box next to her. The girl had long brown hair pulled back in a bandana, and she was wearing a Seabreeze High School tee shirt over skinny jeans and Converse sneakers. The girl smiled at Smoak and opened the pizza box.

  “I knew Corleone’s would wake you up. Feel like a slice?” she asked.

  Smoak tried to speak and her mouth exploded in pain. She groaned and reached up to feel the wire and pins holding the left side of her face together.

  The other girl immediately jumped up and moved to Smoak’s side. “Shit, you can’t open your mouth at all? Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I thought…”

  Smoak lowered her hand and took the girl’s in hers. She squeezed and let go, speaking with American Sign Language.

  It’s okay, Ash. You didn’t know, and I couldn’t have. I can have pizza later. Are you alright?

  “Am I alright? Aside from my best friend being almost beaten to death and a cop waiting at the end of the hall to talk to you, yeah I’m peachy,” Ashley replied. “I should be asking you if you’re okay. What happened? The cops found two dead men at work.”

  Smoak held up five fingers.

  There were five, she signed. Five of them. They came in to rob the shop while I was closing up. One of them knocked me out and dumped me into the pit.

  Ashley sat on the bed. “SK, they found you outside with a bloody half-inch drive in your hand. You were nowhere near the mechanic’s bay.”

  Smoak nodded, wincing at the pain it caused.

  Dumping me in the pit was a mistake. When I woke up, they were still trying to open the safe. I grabbed the drive and climbed back out. I got two before someone hit me from behind. All I remember after that was being hit, over and over. And then here.

  “Then the other three are still out there somewhere,” Ashley said. “At least the cops were smart enough to figure out it was a robbery gone wrong. Dad says they still want you for questioning, and you could be brought up on manslaughter charges. If you are, he will defend you, no charge.”

  Smoak closed her eyes.

  The two I hit are dead?

  Ashley laughed. “Not just dead, girl. You beat the crap out of them. I’ve never seen you that pissed. You really beat them to death over some of Paulie’s money?”

  Smoak shook her head.

  No. Because of what they did to me.

  Ashley paled. “What did they do? Smoakie what happened?”

  Smoak felt tears building behind her eyes, and she tried to build up the courage to tell her friend. She raised a hand to answer when the door to her room opened and a man entered. He had blonde hair and a dark tan that he’d matched with a linen suit and pink tee. Smoak thought he looked like a Miami Vice extra.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Higgins. How is Miss MacKenna?” he asked.

  “Hi, Detective Murphy,” Ashley replied. “She’s awake.”

  The detective smiled and moved to join Ashley next to the bed as she watched his face closely.

  “Good afternoon, Miss MacKenna. How are you feeling?” Murphy asked.

  Ashley snorted. “She can’t talk, her jaw is wired shut.”

  The detective frowned. “When you brought her a pizza, I assumed she could open her mouth to eat.”

  Ashley shrugged and held Smoak’s hand. “We were both wrong. She can’t eat a bite or make a peep. Sorry.”

  “I see. Can she sign? Your father said you two have been friends your whole lives.”

  Ashley frowned and muttered, “Thanks, Dad,” before answering in a louder voice. “Yes, she can sign. I can interpret for you, and I read lips pretty well.”

  “Tell her I’m Detective Murphy of the Ormond Beach Police,” Murphy said.

  Ashley rolled her eyes. “I’m the one who’s deaf, Detective. She can hear you just f
ine.”

  The detective flushed and looked away for a moment. “Right. My apologies. Miss MacKenna, can you tell me what happened at the Lube and Go last Friday night?”

  Smoak made a quick sign of affirmation, but said nothing else.

  “What did she say?” Murphy asked.

  “She said yes,” Ashley said with a grin. “That’s all.”

  “I can see this won’t be easy. Miss MacKenna, I meant, will you tell me what happened that night, right here, right now. It needs to go in my report.”

  Smoak shook her head.

  Not a chance. Not without Mr. Higgins.

  “She says she wants her lawyer, my dad,” Ashley interpreted.

  “Miss MacKenna, you aren’t currently being charged with anything,” Murphy pressed.

  Currently not charged, with the possibility of manslaughter. I’m not saying anything until Mr. Higgins is here. And my mom, if she will come.

  “As you wish, Miss MacKenna. I’ll come back after arrangements have been made,” Murphy said after hearing Ashley’s translation. “In the meantime, get well.”

  Smoak watched the detective leave. When he was gone, she turned back to Ashley.

  “Are you sure about this, Smoakie?” Ashley asked.

  Yes. I’m not taking any chances. I already did a week in Juvenile for breaking that quarterback’s nose and collarbone. I’ll pass on going to prison.

  Ashley shrugged. “The Christian Academy quarterback shouldn’t have patted your ass while you were making out with his girlfriend. He should have waited his turn like a good boy.”

  Smoak glared at Ashley, who giggled.

  “Yeah, I know you’ll get me back for that one. But, for now, you can’t even stick out your tongue.”

  Smoak raised her perfectly good middle finger and rotated it for Ashley’s viewing pleasure.

  Ashley smiled, then her face fell and she collapsed on the bed, hugging her friend tight.

  “I missed you, SK. I thought you were gonna die. You were so still and pale, no one could wake you up. Not even me.”

  I’m too stubborn to die, Ash.

  “You’re not a superhero, blondie.”

  Smoak hugged her friend with her good arm and said nothing. She knew she wasn’t a hero.

  Smoak met with Attorney Richard Higgins the following morning. He was a short, balding man with a handlebar mustache that hid a scar on his lip he’d gotten helping Smoak pull his wife from a wrecked car two years previously. He was wearing a well-tailored grey suit that matched his eyes, a blue shirt and a tie Smoak was certain she’d given him as a Father’s Day gift. She had known him since she was eight years old, and he was as much of a father to her as her own blood, sometimes more. Which made it hard to face him after what she’d done.

  He sat next to her on the bed while she explained, at length, most of what had happened that night. There was one detail she kept to herself because she couldn’t handle saying it twice. Otherwise, she told him everything, wincing inside at not telling him the whole truth all at once.

  When she was finished, Attorney Higgins patted her arm.

  “Don’t worry, munchkin. It sounds to me like a clear-cut case of self-defense. You couldn’t have known you were capable of killing those men. You were doing your job and trying to stop them. I don’t think there will be any problem. Are you ready to talk to the detective?”

  Smoak nodded and tried to smile. She managed a grimace of pain, but she knew Higgins could tell what she was trying to do.

  He squeezed her arm again. “Are you sure? Maybe your mom will…”

  Smoak shook her head. You know she won’t. They disowned me, remember? If they aren’t here by now, they aren’t going to be.

  “If you’re sure, Smoakie, I’ll get Murphy, and we can wrap this up.”

  Smoak nodded and watched him stand and move to the door. Murphy was sitting outside, clipboard in hand. She heard the two men exchange words and saw Murphy stand. The two men came back in and sat in chairs on either side of her.

  “Miss MacKenna, thank you for speaking with me,” Murphy said. “You aren’t under oath, but I will be recording our conversation, is that alright?”

  Smoak nodded and signed the affirmative.

  Murphy clicked on his recorder and placed it on the bed.

  “This is Detective Murphy of the Ormond Beach Police Department speaking with Kamryn Smoak MacKenna and her attorney Richard Higgins in regards to case OB-1138-187. Attorney Higgins will be translating as Miss MacKenna can speak only in sign language. Miss MacKenna, can you tell me in your own words what happened on Friday, June 11? Specifically after closing the Lube and Go.”

  “My manager, Paulie, had to go home early and left me in charge,” Higgins translated. “It’s usually quiet on Friday night anyway. We closed at eight, and I let the two mechanics on duty go home while I stayed to cash out the register. I left the back door unlocked, so they could get changed and leave. I had just finished locking the deposit in the safe when I heard the door open. I left the office to see who was there, expecting a customer to be looking for an oil change.”

  “What did you find when you left the office?” Murphy asked.

  There were three men in the bay and two between the door and me. I didn’t recognize any of them. I politely let them know we were closed, and they attacked me. I tried to fight them off, but one of them hit me with something and I fell unconscious. I woke up in the mechanic’s pit, partially undressed.

  “Wait,” Higgins said. “Partially undressed?”

  Smoak nodded and looked away.

  Yes, sir. My lower half.

  “Jesus Christ! Smoak, why didn’t you say something? Murphy, was a kit run on her?”

  Murphy checked his notes and shook his head.

  “No, it doesn’t look like it. There was no indication of….”

  “Bullshit,” Higgins growled. “She’s a child and the female victim of a vicious beating. A kit is protocol!”

  Murphy’s face darkened. “There was no indication of sexual assault, and with Miss MacKenna’s history of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and always coming out on top, I didn’t think it was necessary.”

  Higgins stood and leaned across the bed.

  “You, Detective, are an idiot. I’ve known this girl since she was practically a baby. She’s saved my daughter’s life half a dozen times. Hell, I consider her my second child. You neglected possible evidence because she has one blotch in her file. This is all on record, and I will make sure your captain hears how you've neglected your duty!”

  “That is your right, Attorney Higgins. I acted in accordance with my instincts and my conscience is clear. Can we finish the interview, now?” Murphy asked.

  Higgins looked as if he wanted to say something more, but Smoak stopped him with one hand.

  Please, Mr. Higgins, let’s just get this over with.

  Higgins sat back down. He didn’t look happy, but he agreed. “Continue. But this isn’t over, Detective.”

  Smoak waited for both men to calm down before she continued. When I woke up, I could still hear the men. It sounded like they were taking money out of the safe. I pulled myself together, took a half-inch drive off the tool rack and climbed back out of the pit. When I got into the bay, the men were leaving. I chased them out and confronted them in the lot. I remember two of them going down and then nothing but pain. I woke up here.

  “Why did you pursue the men if they were leaving?” Murphy asked.

  Smoak turned her purple eyes on Murphy. If you woke up bloody, beaten and violated, wouldn’t you?

  “So you wanted revenge?” Murphy asked.

  Smoak’s eyes narrowed. No. I wanted them stopped. They were fleeing with stolen money, and if they’d done this to me, they would do it to another girl. Maybe another girl the same night. They needed to be stopped. So I tried to stop them.

  “I see,” Murphy said. “So you were defending a hypothetical ‘next victim’.”

  “I think
she’s said enough, Detective,” Higgins said. “Florida case-law is clear. She was acting in defense of herself and the business that employs her. The so-called victims were found on the property, just outside the door. This is a clear self-defense case. If you don’t see it that way, charge her. Charge her or go away and leave her alone. She’s been through enough.”

  Murphy glared at Higgins for a beat, and then reached for his recorder.

  “Thank you, Miss MacKenna. I agree with your attorney. This was self-defense, and I don’t see any reason to charge you with a criminal act. I wish you a speedy recovery.”

  Murphy gathered the rest of his things and stood, nodding once at the attorney before heading toward the door. Higgins watched the detective leave, his face red with anger. Once the door had closed behind the younger man, the attorney turned back to Smoak.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, munchkin? Why didn’t you tell your parents?” he asked.

  Tears rolled down Smoak’s cheeks, mingling with the blood around the pins in her jaw.

  I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell you. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t say it more than once. Please don’t be angry.

  Higgins took her hand and held it gently, his other hand wiping her tears away as if she were his own daughter. “I’m not angry at you, kiddo. But I’m going to make sure that idiot never works anything but parking meters if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Five weeks later, Smoak stood in front of the mirror, brushing out her long blonde hair, her purple eyes staring at her reflection from deep black pits. The scars on her jaw stood out, red and angry, but she’d been assured they would fade over time. The bruises on her ribs, stomach and thighs had already gone; the ones on her psyche would take a lot longer.

  She sighed, stuffed the brush in her duffle and dressed in the clothes Ashley had brought for her—a pair of jeans, a “Sharks Varsity Cheerleader” tee and her purple Converse sneakers. She then began tossing items from the closet into her bag. It didn’t take long. The last two items in the closet were her torn clothes from the attack, cut to ribbons by the emergency team. She ran her finger over the bloodstains and tried not to remember how they’d gotten there.

 

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