"You're so not. It's not like that at all."
"Then how is it? Ever since I outed myself at Jeremy's gaming party, I've been expected to answer to this Council. A group, until just recently, I didn't even know existed. Training and classes and politics. It's been nothing but one big pain in the ass. And I'm sick of it!"
Spratlin handed me another stack of games so that I wouldn't have to bend over and pick them up. Despite my mood, I was grateful.
"What bothers you the most about being a Healer? We haven't had one in many generations. It's such an awesome gift. One that any mage would be honored to have."
"Well, I'm not honored! It hurts like fucking hell!"
"So, it's the pain that bothers you."
I could tell he was honestly trying to understand and not simply belittle me. "They don't control me. It's my body, my life. I choose what to do with it. Who to save," I shoved a stack of games on the shelf behind the counter, "and who not to save."
"No one said you don't have control."
"Look at this," I shoved my wrist in his face to show him that a fourth scar had appeared on my left wrist. "This isn't there because I wanted it." Each time I sacrificed myself to save someone, a scar that looked as if it had been burned into my skin by the flames of hell appeared on my arm. Like a vertical line counting the days on a prison wall.
His eyes fell to the floor. Nothing he could have said was going to change my mind.
"And that's just a physical reminder. Who the hell knows what it's actually doing to my body. The Council does not have jurisdiction over me."
"Mackenzie." I admit, I liked that he called me by my full name. "The Council is here to protect us."
"So is the regular government. Or did you forget that I'm still human?"
That time, he looked defeated. "I know you're still human. But you have a unique gift. A gift that could really do some good."
"I can't telepathically stock these shelves while I sit back and play a game of Halo, so I disagree."
A year ago, I moved back to Blackwood after having spent the last fifteen years away. Never would I have ever thought that moving back here would trigger something in me. But there I was, discussing my death cheating ability and magic training. Sometimes I wondered if I left would it all go away.
At least the dreams had mostly stopped. Ever since I was little, after my father died, I had these dreams of falling off of a cliff and drowning in the ocean below. All the training that I was being forced to do probably had my ass so tired every night that I was too exhausted to dream. I'd take what I could get.
The chimes on the front door signified that we had a customer. I looked around but didn't immediately see anyone. "Sorry, we're closed."
No answer.
"Hey, buddy! Did you not hear me the first time?"
"I heard you, and I must ask," a very short man, I assumed to be a little person, appeared at the counter. "Why, if you're closed, is your front door unlocked?"
I shot Spratlin the evil eye for forgetting to lock the door behind him. "Can I help you?"
He reached into his pocket and retrieved a card. "I'm Detective Randall Bartlett of Internal Affairs for the Council of Mage and Magical Affairs."
I reached across and down the counter to take his card. It looked legit, but I handed it to Spratlin for clarification since he knew more about those things than I.
He didn't take the card. Instead, he nodded at me and then said to the man, "Good to see you, Randall. What can we do for you?"
Oh, goodie. Spratlin knew him.
The man adjusted his coat and surveyed the boxes. "Seems you are very busy, so I'll get right to it."
"Thanks. I like a man who tells it like it is." Again, I glanced at Spratlin. That business about not filling me in on what type of training mission we were going on was not going to be forgotten. Even when I'm playing a video game I prefer to know my objective.
"Are you, uh," he looked at the pocket notebook he was holding, "Mackenzie Adams, aka Zoe?"
Oh, dear Jesus, not with the Zoe shit again. My nickname was Zee, and for some reason, morons who didn't know how to either spell or get their facts straight liked to confuse that with Zoe. A mistake I despised more than going on suicide missions. Literally.
"It's Zee to my friends, and yes." I was sure to express that friends part. So far, he was not of that level of eligibility.
"What's this about, Randall?" Spratlin asked.
"Mr. James, Ms. Adams, there has been a murder in Blackwood."
"A murder?" Spratlin asked. Within the magic community?"
"I'm afraid so."
I suddenly became very uneasy. Why would a detective barge into my store late at night in the hopes of finding me here to tell us that? "Does the Council always send detectives to personally fill in the community of murders and goings on? A group email or newsletter would have sufficed."
Spratlin looked at me as if I'd just ran over a cat and didn't even blink. Actually, one time I accidentally hit a small dog and cried all night over it. When I later found out it didn't make it, I swore it would never happen again. And then I drank myself to sleep. "What? I'm still new to this, remember?"
"Who was it?"
"Her name was Alise Carter. She was found dead last night around midnight."
"Oh, shit," I turned to Spratlin. "That's one of Alexa's lap dogs, er, friends." I quickly corrected myself when I remembered the detective was staring at me. My hand covered my mouth. "Oh, my God."
The man looked at his notes, "The culprit was described as having long brown hair."
"So, there was a witness," stated Spratlin. He touched my arm to signify he would take it from there. "What happened exactly?"
"I'm not at liberty to give any details."
"Why not?" I blurted out.
He tucked his notebook back inside his jacket pocket and straightened himself. "Ms. Adams, I am here to give you official notice by the Council of Mages and Magical Affairs that you are hereby under suspicion of murder."
3
The light from the monitor had burned my retinas to the point that I had to look away. Rubbing my temples and eyes only temporarily eased the pain. I'd been at it for hours. Thank goodness for Jeremy who had handled the store all day. I couldn't concentrate on customers, not with being a murder suspect and all.
My neck and shoulders ached. I closed my eyes and imagined Spratlin giving me one of his world class massages. He'd probably go for it if I hadn't been such a butt to him yesterday.
I clicked the mouse and continued my search. The Council had not issued a statement yet, so no official details. I could browse the Council message board, but I wasn't interested in hearsay. I searched one more time for recent murders in Blackwood and scrolled down the page a little further, thinking maybe the Council buried the story.
The headline: MAN WHO WAS RECENTLY SAVED FROM DROWNING WAS MURDERED. I clicked the all too familiar picture.
"Oh shit." I rubbed my temples again.
That was the guy I first saved.
I jumped when my phone rang. "Hello?"
The lady on the other end replied, "Hi, Ms. Adams, this is Pamela from Ravencrest Coven for Mages and Magical Creatures. I see here that you haven't officially gone through new magic users orientation. I'd like to invite you to an open house next Tues-."
"I appreciate that you have to do your job, so don't take this personally, but I'm really not interested." With cell phones, it was difficult to slam the phone down in someone's ear, so I just punched end call really hard.
A few seconds later it rang again. It was the same number.
"I'm sorry, we must have been cut off. This is Pamela from the Ravencrest Coven for Mage-."
"We weren't cut off. I don't know how to make it any clearer without being pissy about it. I don't want to go to your orientation, and when I hang up, don't call me again. If you have a problem with that, tell your supervisor, or supreme magic advisor, or whatever the hell he's called to take it up wi
th me personally."
Jesus, they're a pushy bunch. I out myself as a witch and everyone in town is suddenly interested in me. It wasn't just Spratlin's coven. Three months ago, no one gave a shit what I did. Never would've thought I'd miss that.
I went back to reading about the drowning man. An image from that night flashed through my mind. I remember being on the beach. The man staring at me from several yards away. I continued to read. Thomas Johnson, 38, found dead at his home in Colinshire Estates. Suspect still at large.
Damn.
Typing Thomas Johnson into the search bar retrieved several news headlines. I skimmed through one that mentioned a wife and two kids.
Double damn.
Thoughts of growing up without my father were still fresh. Even though it happened when I was eight, some days it still felt like yesterday. My heart ached for the kids. And his widow.
Curiosity was strong, and I typed his name on various social media sites until I came across his profile. He was a special needs teacher and an outstanding citizen. Why is it always the good ones?
I continued to read through his posts on his social page from previous weeks. I almost choked on my Coke when I read the one about being saved from drowning. But that wasn't the worst part. He admitted in public that he wanted to commit suicide that night, but a stranger stopped him.
It was an odd feeling knowing I stopped someone from ending their life. Was he bitter about it, or had it encouraged him to seek help?
I took a screen shot of the post. Surely I was seeing things and I wanted proof tomorrow if I wasn't dreaming. Looking at the photos of him and his family, he looked so happy. His wife and kids were gorgeous, and it sounded like he really enjoyed his job. What would make him want to end it all? And what are the odds that he would be murdered not too long after his attempted suicide?
My head hurt from the flood of information. I unlocked my desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of tequila. A shot or two would help drown the thoughts. No pun intended. Numb would've been a better word.
The alcohol was taking affect warming my toes and soothing my nerves. There was still one person I needed to look up. Searching through article after article, I finally landed on one that mentioned that day. Her name was Emma Miller. I exhaled. Knowing her name didn't make it any easier.
I punched in her name and scanned a few profiles. It was surprisingly easy to find information on her. The things people shared on social media was mind blowing. Emma was a fifth grader, and she went to Blackwood Elementary. A local girl.
Knocking on the store door startled me. Apparently my store was turning into a popular night spot. From my back office I could see that it was Gaylin. I checked my watch on the way to the door. Ten-thirty. Jeremy had locked up hours ago. I felt exhausted, but tried to put on a happy face for my best friend.
"Hey! You're out late."
"I tried to call first. Spratlin told me you were here."
I looked down at my phone. "Oh, sorry. I turned it off after these annoying calls from the coven. Can I report them for harassment?" I went and stood behind the counter and leaned across it.
Gaylin watched me closely as she moved closer to the counter. "So, how are you really?"
"You mean in spite of me finally opening my dream game store and not being able to enjoy it because I'm being forced to go through magic training and join a group of people who I'd normally never be caught dead with? Just peachy!"
She looked around and motioned toward the shelves. "How's it going?"
"Not bad. We haven't really begun advertising yet, but it's going okay."
"When is the grand opening?"
"In a few weeks. Inventory should be fully stocked by then." I had put all our friends on notice to volunteer for the big day. Fortunately, all my friends are gamers, so offering them free pizza and a chance to mingle and play games with customers was a no-brainer.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but you look-."
"Like shit?" She would never say it so colorfully, but she nodded. I rolled my neck and shoulders. "I feel like it, too."
"It really takes it out of ya, huh?"
I knew she wasn't talking about opening a new store. "Yeah." Her head dropped to the floor. I asked, "Hey, how does it feel from the other side?"
A couple of months ago, at my Great Coming Out party, Alexa, my sworn enemy, tried to kill us all at a gaming party. She succeeded in burning Jeremy's house down with a Inferno Vortex spell, and almost killed Gaylin. Despite my desire to stay anonymous, I sacrificed myself to save Gaylin, and thus cemented the life-long feud with Alexa.
Gaylin looked up at me. "I thank God every day I'm still alive. And also thanks to you."
I smiled. "You would've done the same for me, or anyone else." Then, I tried to make light of the situation by offering my wrist and pointing to the third one. "Wanna see my scars? That one's yours."
Her eyes were intense as she lightly touched the scar that was put there in exchange for my life for hers. "Does it hurt?"
"Eh, the tenderness goes away in a day or so." Some people had tattoos; I had life scars. Literally.
She withdrew her hand like she had touched fire. My Spidey senses were tingling with the notion that she wasn't sure how to deal with what happened. I respected that. "I still can't believe I never knew all my friends are witches."
"Well, not everyone is. But most are."
I wondered who among the party that night was just as surprised as me.
"Listen, the reason I came by so late was to tell you about Alise."
"Alexa's friend? Yeah, I heard."
"Oh. Okay. Well, good. I just didn't want... I wasn't sure if..."
She was nervous. It made me a little more anxious than I already was. "What all do you know about it?"
"Oh, I don't know any details. I mean, there's all sorts of wild rumors, but," she waved her hand around.
"But? What's the wildest rumor you've heard?"
"Well..." She hesitated.
"Come on, you can tell me."
"I don't know. It's pretty crazy. I wouldn't want you to think I believe such crazy talk."
I looked at her with all the seriousness I could muster. "I know you. You believe the best in everyone even to a fault. Trust me, it stays between us. I'm not gonna go around spreading rumors you've heard."
"I heard that it was you. That you killed Alise."
I blew out a long breath. "Yeah. Might as well tell you. Just keep in mind this isn't public knowledge yet. But yes, I'm the Council's number one suspect."
"It can't be true!" She covered her mouth in shock.
"Well, of course it's not true! I mean, yes, I'm a suspect, but no, I didn't do it."
"Oh, thank God."
"Wait, you didn't think it was me, did you?"
"Of course not! I just needed to hear you say it."
"Well, I didn't. As much as I don't like any of them, I wouldn't kill, or have them killed." I walked out from behind the counter and motioned for her to follow. "I read a headline tonight about another murder."
When we reached my office, I clicked back to the article on Thomas Johnson's death. "This man was murdered in his own home last night. Interestingly, he's also the first person who I saved."
"What?"
"It happened a few months ago. Right after I was fired. I thought it was just another crazy dream, until I noticed the scar." I rubbed my wrist. "He may have been my first, but if I had to choose, yours is definitely my favorite."
Gaylin read the article and sat there quietly.
"Anyway, I'm not real sure what to make of it."
When she finally spoke again, her words sent a chill down my spine. "Do you think someone knows?"
"I don't know." The little girl. I decided not to tell Gaylin about the little girl. Then said a silent prayer that no one else knew.
I suddenly remembered I didn't lock the door, so I walked to the front of the store. Upon returning, I saw Gaylin quickly switch back to the article about Tho
mas Johnson. Had she seen the info on Emma, too? Chills suddenly ran down my spine.
4
My eyes slowly opened and focused on the desk in front of me. I was still at the store. I rubbed my eyes and checked the time. Only eleven-thirty? It felt like I had been asleep for hours. Then I noticed the light coming in through the front of the store. Oh shit, it was daylight. I had been asleep for hours.
When I reached to turn off the computer monitor, I saw the article I was reading and remembered what I had discovered the night before. After learning about Thomas Johnson, that the man I saved from drowning had been murdered, I was trying to find information on the little girl from the arcade.
After what Gaylin said last night, I was concerned that Emma might be in danger. I needed to talk to Spratlin. He could help convince the Council to protect her. I grabbed my keys and flew out the door.
It was a gorgeous day. The usual southern humidity hadn't yet taken over the summer days. I revved my bike and had half a mind to just keep riding. Drive away from all the hubbub. Go some place where there was no magic, no being investigated for murder. Was magic everywhere? Were there places without it? The thought of what all I still had to learn was overwhelming.
Ahead of me was a gray sedan. The person in the passenger seat tossed a water bottle out the window causing me to have to dodge it. If there was one thing I hated, it was people who litter. The light turned yellow, so I moved into the middle lane and pulled up beside the car. The punk kids to my left were blasting their music and oblivious to the world.
To my right was a lady in a truck with the window rolled down. She was smoking. "Excuse me! Can I bum a smoke?" She nodded and handed it to me. I know I'm not supposed to use my magic in public, but I quickly zapped the cigarette with my lightning to lit it up. Now, I find the habit a disgusting one, but I would make an exception in this case. "Thanks."
I took one, long drag off the cigarette then turned to the car on my left. "Do you let people throw their trash on your living room floor?"
He gave me a who-the-hell-are-you-look, and said in a smug tone, "No."
Wanted Witch (Daughter of Darkness Book 1) Page 2