Reborn: Daughter of Darkness Prequel

by Val O. Morris

  When he didn't run away screaming, I thought maybe there was something to him that was special. Don't let my bickering with him fool you. I do think he's special, I just don't want to be traipsing around a sewer system practicing magic on gross demons because it's what I'm supposed to do.

  Okay, I seriously need to stop the snarky eye rolling. Can you tell I have issues with authority? My mother always said I did. My newfound abilities did have their perks. It was just that I didn't like being told I now have to report to a group of witches once a month and go through the official training. The only club I like being a part of is my gaming clan. And we get to together a helluva lot more than once a month.

  Speaking of, I pulled out my phone and set a reminder to talk to Jeremy about 'game night' at the store.

  "Put that away," Spratlin hissed when I bumped into him.

  "What? I'm running a business here."

  "You're gonna run into the business end of a demon if you don't watch where you're going."

  "Really?" I stifled a laugh. "That's all ya got?"

  His turn to give me the eat-shit-and-die look. "Official training is not the time to be playing on your phone."

  I glared up at him. "Look, Dad, the Council is just gonna have to accept that I have a life outside of their little club."

  "Coven."

  "Whatever. And if they don't like it, they can kiss my a-."

  "Shhh," he held up a finger. "I hear crying."

  "Yeah, it's my soul crying for release."

  "No, I'm serious." He turned back around and picked up the pace as we continued down a narrow corridor. "Stay quiet."

  "Yeah, there's an idea."

  The sigh he let out told me he was as frustrated with me as I was with my training. I didn't mean to take it out on him. It was true that we tend to hurt those closest to us. I knew it wasn't Spratlin's fault, and he did say he was trying to make it easier on me by being my Magic Mentor. Yes, that was actually what they called it. No eye roll needed.

  I was frustrated because everything was changing at once. Suddenly, I had no job, yet I had nine lives, figuratively, then I signed my life away to open my own business, and now I was in training to quote, 'better understand and control my magical powers'. It was a lot to take in.

  We came to a small crack in the wall. A passage just big enough to slide through if we stayed prone against it. Cool air escaped from the crack and the crying was a little more clear. Spratlin jerked his head toward the crack, as if I didn't already know that was where we were headed.

  We soon stepped out of the narrow passage and into a small empty room. There was another opening against the far wall. As we approached, the most foul funk of blood and torture overtook our senses. It made the sewer smell like grandma's cooking by comparison. Gagging, it took every ounce of control not to spill my guts. Literally.

  Spratlin waved his fingers under my nose. "Better?"

  Ahh, the smell of fresh cut strawberries. See? Magic did have its perks. I wondered what else he could do with those fingers. Whoa! I do not know where that came from. Now was certainly not the time to be thinking about that.

  Having not seen the next room until now, blood and torture was an eerily accurate description. Illuminated by candlelight, dark dried blood stained the walls leaving behind the remnants of the innocent lives that it likely belonged to. Bones, both tiny and human-sized lay scattered around the corners of the room. On one end was an altar. Various papers were discarded on top of it.

  "This is not good," muttered Spratlin. The worried look on his face concerned me.

  "Do I even want to know what this place is?"

  "No. Keep your guard up."

  Another good idea. He was full of them today.

  "What exactly are we supposed to be looking for?"

  "The Council said that I'd know it when I found it."

  Great. Always wanted to go on a wild goose chase. My hand lazily flipped through the book that was open on the altar. Upon a closer look, I saw that it was in a language I didn't understand, but the demonic-looking symbols piqued my interest. I closed the book. The title jumped out at me. "Necromancy? What kind of spells are your friends casting?"

  "Hmm?" He took the book from me. "This isn't anything from our coven or the Council."

  My eyebrows raised at his confidence. "What makes you so sure?"

  The crying was much closer. A black drape hung behind us dividing the room, or hiding something, which was probably more the case since the crying was coming from that direction. I threw caution to the wind and yanked back the curtain. Sometimes I hated when I was right.

  "Oh, God." My hand covered my mouth.

  A twisted, guttural sounding voice replied, "Nooo. No God here."

  Behind the black curtain was a disgusting-looking demon that made my insides twist when it spoke.

  "At long last, we meet, Lady Mackenzie." And then it ran off dragging a small boy behind him.

  "After him!"

  As we ran through the corridors of the never-ending sewer, seriously, where the hell were we? Wait, bad choice of words.

  "Lady Mackenzie?" I repeated as I huffed after Spratlin and the demon. "How the hell did he know my name?

  "This is so not good."

  Now he officially had me worried. "Why? What's wrong?"

  "That was no low-level demon."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because low-levels only grunt. They can't speak."

  "Well, since it can, let's catch it and ask it what's going on."

  "Probably not a good idea. Ya know, the whole habitual liars and being minions of hell thing."

  The boy cried out again. We fled through the passage that the demon ran through. We chased after the crying sound as fast as we could, splashing through more tunnels. At the first fork, we made a hard right. The cries continued to echo. I silently hoped our ears weren't playing tricks on us.

  We entered into this huge underground cavern. "There he is!" The demon was several yards in front of us and was now carrying the boy in its arms.

  "When I stun him, grab the boy!"

  Spratlin always had a plan, and whether I liked it or not, I could not disobey his orders or the Council would have my head. And maybe even his. And his was too cute to lose. We were gaining distance on the demon. Finally, we rounded a corner, and the demon was holding the boy up in the air with one hand and fire formed in the other.

  Spratlin doused the demon with a blast of Aqua Beam.

  The demon dropped the boy, and he scrambled away.

  Spratlin continued to blast the demon with a steady stream of water, but the demon was able to make ground towards the boy.

  The little boy ran into a corner of the cave.

  My eyes grew wide. There was nothing to protect him if the demon got off a shot.

  "Fuuuuuck!" I whined. I knew where this was going. Straight to Sacrifice City. Not nearly as fun as Paradise City.

  The demon used his magic to fight back.

  Spratlin pushed harder. "I can't hold him forever!"

  I bolted for the boy. I knew what I had to do, and I wasn't about to disappoint that little boy's family.

  Spratlin's Aqua Beam was weakening. The moment the Aqua Beam disappeared, the demon shot a spray of Fireballs at the boy.

  "Now, Mackenzie!" Spratlin yelled.

  My legs were about to give out, but it only took another second before I grabbed the boy and shielded him from the blast.

  I said a silent prayer as the Fireballs pounded my back.

  Chapter 2

  My video game store was located in the heart of town square, and the next day, Spratlin and I went there to stock shelves. I was happy to be back in my element and not in the sewers chasing demonic creatures.

  "Here, let me," Spratlin said as he picked up a big heavy box and carried it to the area behind the cash register.

  Normally, I would've balked. I don't like other people doing things for me that I was perfectly capable of doing myself. However,
after a death and rebirth, my body rejects almost every ounce of movement. My muscles felt like they were being stretched by a thousand minions of hell and the soreness was worse than a trip to the gym after a long winter's break.

  And, too, because Spratlin owed me one for lying to me.

  As I bent over to grab a few games to stock the shelves, a jolt of pain coursed through my legs and back. Just breathe, I reminded myself as I cursed that damn gift once again. Sometimes we receive gifts we didn't ask for. Unfortunately, the gift of Healer wasn't one I could return, receipt or no.

  Spratlin must've noticed me flinching because he asked, "Do you want me to get Jeremy? This'll go much faster."

  I shook my head. No, I did not want him to get Jeremy; I wanted Spratlin to pay for lying to me. "No, he's been working his ass off while I've been doing my training. I gave him the night off."

  "That was thoughtful of you." He smiled and continued, "I was hoping it was because you wanted to spend the night alone with me."

  Yes, because stocking shelves was so romantic. "Oh, I do, but only to punish you with carrying heavy boxes." I knew they weren't that heavy even for me, and especially not for him, but that wasn't the point.

  "Punish me? What'd I do?"

  Holding a handful of the most popular new game, I glared at him. "You know why."

  "For not telling you we'd be training in the sewers?"

  Wow, sometimes guys really were clueless. "You tricked me. You knew damn well that was a rescue mission."

  "I don't understand. You knew it was training."

  "Yeah, training. What the hell gives you or the Council the right to send me on a sacrificial mission without consulting me first? Let me rephrase that. A suicide mission." Because that's ultimately what the Council planned for me to do. Sacrifice my ass.

  "It's not like that."

  "Then, please. Enlighten me because I feel like I'm being groomed to be the Council's lackey."

  "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."

  Continue Zee's journey... />
  * * *

  Limited Time $.99 Pre-order Available Now: www.valomorris.com/wwkin

  Note From the Author

  I listened to a lot of Lady Gaga and Halestorm while I wrote this book series. Make of that what you will. Gaga has a can-do attitude and hard work ethic that are inspiring (and anyone who can name drop three Hitchcock movies in one song has my blessing!), and Halestorm (a rock band with a kickass female lead singer) has bitchin' riffs and rock anthems that make me want to throw my fist (or horns) in the air and take on the world. Music has a way of getting into my soul, and both of these musical artists really got me in the mood to write my main character. Zee is a badass who goes after what she wants and doesn't take shit from anyone. She's who many women, myself included, aspire to be. Lady Gaga and Halestorm's music helped me get in touch with my inner badass.

  I let Zee kick the shit out of the inside my brain for several weeks before I finally called mercy and gave in. I was nearing the end of book 2 in my Zombie Boy series, and I couldn't just toss that aside and bend to her will. But Zee is a tough bitch. Like I said, she kicked and screamed inside my head wanting to get attention and have her voice heard until I couldn't take it anymore. To me, that's a sign of a fun character to write.

  Zee is a tough character, but she certainly has her flaws. Her issues with authority make her reckless, and she's a bit of a hothead when dealing with relationships. She can burn a bridge and hold a grudge with the best of 'em. She might get a little of that from me. She's also strong-willed and determined. If there is anything she has taught me, it's to go after what I want and don't take No for an answer.

  I'm all about dreaming big. My senior year of high school, I put a quote in our yearbook that read: "Achieve your goals; become your dreams".

  That was 21 years ago. I'm still dreaming.

  * * *

  Val

  Aug 2016

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my editor, Jessica Mauldin. Your assistance is appreciated more than you know!