Birth of a Goddess (Reincarnation of the Morrigan Book 1)

by Renée Jaggér

  I released the knife, and it stood quivering in the air. The next instant, the glamour fell and Redcap loomed over me, my blade in his chest. His pain-filled gold eyes locked with mine for a brief moment before he burst into flames and then turned to ash.

  I turned to the wolf once more, but the sound of an approaching vehicle led my attention to where Redcap and I had entered the veil. My heart lurched into my throat, then relief spasmed through me as a man stepped out of the car and looked at the veil before him with a perplexed expression.

  Douglas, you idiot, you’re alive. He didn’t look hurt, just confused. They’d lost the bastard, and he’d spent this whole time trying to find me. But how had Redcap known about him? My earpiece hadn’t been enough of a clue. I gathered the wolf in my arms. He was almost too heavy for me to carry, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave him here.

  I carried him to the veil and stepped out. Douglas’ expression clouded with confusion, then relief. He took one glance at my bloodied appearance and the wolf in my arms. “You did it.”

  I nodded. My eyes burned with tears.

  Douglas laid a comforting hand on my arm. “Let’s get you home.”

  Angelica Morgan

  Haiti, 2011

  The clinic smelled worse than any place I’d been yet, blood and piss and rotting things I didn’t want to discover or name.

  The mother and her child sitting by the open front door huddled together, covered in filth. I wrinkled my nose as I approached and bent down, my eyes sweeping over what little they wore. I offered the woman a warm bowl of soup and nodded. I didn’t know their language, and although many of them spoke English, there were some who didn’t. I handed the child a loaf of bread. He stared at me with wide eyes and clutched the food but did not eat it until his mother murmured something in his ear.

  I sat across from them with my back against the doorframe. To one side of us was a room filled with makeshift beds, blankets, and tables stocked with medical supplies. The women inside were tending patients who had been here since the early hours of the morning. On the other side, beyond the door, a narrow path led into the jungle. Four miles into the jungle, another path led down to the beach.

  A breeze drifted through the doorway, a pleasant respite in the balmy air. I had been sweating ever since I’d stepped off the plane. Even the nights here could feel suffocating.

  Two days ago, we had arrived. One week ago, Hurricane Irene had ransacked this place. Turned it on its head, I thought. I had put one call into my mother saying, “I’m going to Haiti. They need help. I need to do something. I’ll be back in a month.”

  My mother, of course, objected. I would be across the ocean and with people I didn’t know, but I reminded her it might be good to do some fieldwork before starting school. “You have to choose what you want to do,” she had told me many times during my last year of high school. It had always resulted in an argument. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, and I sure as hell wasn't going to university to figure it out.

  Now that I was here, sitting in one of the clinics, my eyes traveled up the wall, following a cockroach that had been inside for some time. My instincts told me to smash it, but I restrained myself so as not to startle the people in front of me. They were used to the jungle bugs. The thought of sleeping in the same room with one made me shudder.

  I glanced at the Haitians in front of me. The soup and bread were gone. I rose. “I’ll get more.” I didn’t know if they understood me, but they did understand hunger. Part of our team was rebuilding shelters or constructing new homes from the ground up. Others, like me, were aiding in the clinics. Today a woman had given birth. My tasks ranged from inventory to cleaning machete wounds to setting broken bones.

  Now there was a respite, and giving food to those lingering here sounded like a good idea. The woman and child looked well compared to others I had seen, having no broken bones and no apparent injuries. She wasn’t pregnant, or at least would not give birth anytime soon. Why they had shown up here, I didn’t know.

  My heart ached, and my stomach twisted. I clenched the second bowl of soup in my hands as I carried it over to them. The woman nodded this time, a sign of gratitude. Her son’s lips parted in a small, toothless smile.

  A moment later, we moved away from the doorway as two men and a woman approached and entered. I recognized them from the plane. They were in our group, but I only knew the group’s leader so far and an older woman I had been seated next to on the nine-hour flight here.

  A man who looked like he was a few years older than me glanced at me, then at the woman and her son. He motioned toward the back of the building, and I followed him. He led me into a back room where others from our team had gathered. The leader, a tall woman named Fiona, folded her hands and gave us the itinerary for the next day. “You’ll be split into groups of four and will go into different areas. The medical teams will provide food, water, and any medicine or medical attention needed. Take your time. Get to know people as you go. Make them feel safe. They need those who have the resources to help, but it isn’t just the supplies that make us resources. Use your hearts and your minds.”

  Hearts and minds, I echoed. What these people needed first was clean water and a warm place to sleep at night. I lost track of what Fiona was saying until I heard my name. “Robert Stern, Anita Gufford, Angelica Morgan, and Simon Lorne, you’re Group Three.”

  Someone nudged me with their elbow and, glancing up, I saw the man I had followed in here. His skin was sun-kissed to a pleasant brown. He had facial hair, but it was neatly trimmed. His brown eyes looked into mine. “Hey, that’s me.” He smiled and extended his hand. “Simon Lorne, and you must be Angelica.” I took his hand and shook it. He leaned toward me. “You don’t look much like an Anita.”

  I smiled. “Good to meet you, Simon.”

  He tilted his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Morgan, but you look a little young to have any medical experience.” He didn’t ask my age, at least. My brows rose. I could say the same about him. Realizing my hand was still in his, I withdrew it with haste.

  I crossed my arms and gave him a playful grin. “I’m starting school when we go back.” What I didn’t tell him was I had no clue what I was going to school for or where.

  Simon nodded. “That’s good. I’m at school to be a doctor and decided to come here to get some real experience.”

  My brows rose again, and he must have seen the question in my eyes.

  He laughed nervously and dragged a hand through his dark hair. “Not that there aren’t plenty to help in England. I just wanted to gain a wider perspective.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Me too.”

  Simon grinned. “Well, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Angelica.” When he said my name, I felt as warm inside as if I had received a hug.

  I’ve found a friend here, I thought.

  Bright and early was right. Too damn bright and too damn early.

  I groaned as the sun filled my room and the top bunk where I slept. The person under me shifted too. I’ll have to get used to this if I’m going to be working in emergencies, I told myself. It was safe to say that nineteen-year-old me was less than happy about being up at the crack of dawn.

  After getting up and dressed, however, the day passed in a blur. The town we went into was full of people needing our help. The hurricane had wiped out the farmlands beyond, and in this area, the houses were dilapidated. The people’s possessions were crushed within them, including any food they’d had. In the back of our white van was plenty of rice, beans, bread, and chicken in packs. Medical kits with everything we would need were assigned to each of us.

  “There’s a clinic at the end of this stretch,” Simon said as he handed me my kit. “We can go there after we disperse the food, and they’ll bring us more supplies this evening.”

  I followed him from house to house. The stares of the people followed us under the glare of the sun. I wasn’t used to the heat of a tropical island, and I was lookin
g forward to the spare day we would have at the end of each week to enjoy the beach and the blue ocean.

  We spent an hour or two on that street alone before we reached the clinic, which was bustling with activity. Over the next several hours, I cleaned and bandaged a number of cuts, mostly from machetes and hunting knives. Many of them were boys between the ages of five and twelve. “Do you hunt already? You're so young,” I wanted to ask one of them, but after hearing him speak in French to his friends, I doubted he would know English. I also knew the French they spoke was different from the French spoken in Europe.

  They ate bananas while I cleaned them up. After finishing one boy’s arm, Simon approached me with a steaming mug in hand. “Coffee?” he asked.

  Coffee wasn’t common in England, so I had never drunk much of it, but I took it, feeling gratitude as I did so. Simon sat next to me with his own cup in hand. “They grow their own here. The hurricane wiped out many of their farms, so buying their coffee now helps them more than ever.” I soaked in his words as I lifted the warm mug to my lips and drank. The bitter, earthy taste coated my tongue.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. “Mm, that’s good.”

  Simon chuckled. “I’m glad you think so.”

  I opened my eyes to find him drinking his again. “I want to drink this every day.”

  Simon glanced at me. “You can if you want.”

  I sipped it again and gave him a satisfied smile. “Can I take some home?”

  He laughed. “I’m sure you can find a way.” He watched me take another drink before asking, “What part of England are you from?”

  The relief team was from all over our home country. I had seen the advertisement to join on social media and signed up the next second. “Near Liverpool,” I told him.

  Simon nodded. “I go to school in Liverpool.”

  I smiled. “So will I, starting next month.” The words slipped out before I could catch them. My mother and I had agreed I would go to university near home, but no specific school had been decided upon.

  The doctor-in-training nudged me with his elbow. “Maybe we’ll run into each other.”

  “If you keep bringing me coffee, I won’t be mad about it.”

  Simon laughed before finishing his drink and going back to work.

  The next few hours passed in a blur, and before I knew it, the sun was casting blood-orange rays through the clinic’s windows. The light illuminated the sterile white walls surrounding me. We collected the rest of the food and dispersed it among those who would need to stay the night. After beds were assigned, I ate a bowl of rice and beans and two bananas. Simon fixed me another cup of coffee.

  This guy is getting on my good side pretty quickly, I thought. He sat beside me as I finished eating. I noticed the other half of our team had left in the van. “How are we supposed to get back?” I asked, alarmed.

  Simon gave me a gentle smile. “I told them we could walk back if that’s all right with you. If not, I’ll call Robert to come pick us up.”

  “No, that’s all right. Can we walk back by the beach?”

  Simon thought that was a good idea, and after rinsing my dishes and saying goodbye to the part of our team staying at the clinic overnight, we left. It wasn’t quite dark yet, and the dusk made the sky look bruised and purple. I released a deep sigh, contentment rolling through me.

  Simon glanced at me and smiled.

  “What?” I asked, catching his eye.

  “Nothing,” he responded, “it’s just...so strange to be here.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m going to go home more sunburnt than I’ve ever been in my life.”

  Simon laughed. “The weather is different, but that’s not what I meant.”

  I knew he hadn’t meant that, but I was trying not to think about how heavy I felt being here. At last, I allowed myself to confess. “I feel free and burdened at the same time.”

  To my surprise, Simon’s eyes lit up. He turned from where he watched the waves crashing on the sand and squinted at me. “I know precisely what you mean.”

  I sighed, remembering the last conversation with my mother before coming here. She had objected so much that I had called my brother, begging him to keep her company while I was gone. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble, Ang,” he had told me drily.

  I had grinned at him. “You know I always get out of it.”

  My brother had rolled his eyes and told me I owed him one. My brother would like you, I thought as I looked at Simon. I barely knew the guy, but I knew he and my brother were cut from the same cloth. Meaning, if I get in a bar fight, Simon will pull me out. The thought warmed me.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking into my thoughts.

  The sky was darker now, so I suggested we get off the beach and into a better-lit area. We were still a mile from the bunkers where we were staying. “I’m thinking about how I never think about my feelings, but here I am,” I responded. I added a laugh so as not to feel on edge.

  Simon produced a small smile. “You know, acknowledging your feelings is a good thing.”

  “Oh, I never have a problem acknowledging them.” I grinned. “Especially if someone pisses me off.”

  Simon’s brows rose. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, then.”

  I sighed once more. “I just meant that I feel as though there is something more for me than just...school and a job and boyfriends and drinking and all that crap. You know?”

  Simon laughed. “You must have had some shitty jobs and shitty boyfriends.”

  “And shitty drinks,” I added. “School was okay.”

  He nudged me with his elbow. “Just wait until you start it again, but I know what you mean. There is more for you. I know it.”

  I rolled my eyes but smiled. “You don’t even know me.”

  Simon’s expression became serious. “I know someone who needs guidance and has potential.”

  I stiffened. He wasn’t much older than me. What made him think I needed guidance? I wanted to ask, but I refrained. He was just trying to be nice. “I don’t even know if I’m going to school,” I told him.

  Simon’s brows rose. “You told me today that you’ll be at uni in Liverpool.”

  I shrugged. “That’s what my mother says I should do, but...” My voice trailed off; I was uncertain how to finish the thought.

  Simon finished for me. “You don’t know what you want.”

  I nodded.

  Simon swept his hair back with his hand. “Well, if I get any say in it, you’d be great in the medical field.”

  I frowned. “I don’t want to go to school for a long time. I want to be on my feet but not enclosed. You know?”

  Simon snapped his fingers. “You could be a paramedic or an EMT. Those positions don’t require a lot of schooling, and you get to be ‘out in the field,’ so to speak.”

  His words gave me pause and sparked both interest and curiosity. “I would be doing similar things to what we’ve been doing here, right?” I asked. Simon nodded. I nudged him with my elbow. “So, Doctor Man, is there more for you?”

  Our steps slowed as our place for the night came into view. The streets were quieter now. “Yes, of course there is. There’s more for all of us.” He gave me a weak smile and scratched his head. “I just didn’t know how much until I got here.”

  I tilted my head, examining him in the moonlight, then grinned.

  He shifted, uncomfortable under my teasing gaze. “What?”

  “Nothing.” I shrugged. “Just don’t think I should be with a man I just met while it’s dark outside.”

  Simon smiled. “Let’s go inside, then.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “There were countless trumpeters and horn blowers, and since the whole army was shouting its war cries at the same time, there was such a confused sound that the noise seemed to come not only from the trumpeters and the soldiers but also from the countryside, which was joining in the echo.”

  —Polybius of Rome, 20
6-126 BCE

  My flat was blanketed in darkness when we returned.

  I stumbled inside, blood still covering my clothes. Douglas trudged behind me. I sank onto my sofa, dazed. “What are we going to do with him?” the researcher asked in a soft voice. He sat beside me. We had left the wolf in the back of my car. He was enormous and had barely fit.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat as tears threatened to spring to my eyes. It had been like losing a part of myself, somehow. I responded to Douglas in a far-off voice, “I’ll bury him at Gran’s.” I clenched my fists, wishing I could drive my blade into Redcap again, but no matter how many times I killed him, my heart would still hold this deep ache.

  I rose, wobbling a little, and added, “I’ll have to drive up.” Couldn’t take a dead wolf on a train. In silence, I made my way to my bedroom to change clothes and take a long, scorching shower. I knew Douglas had questions, but I hoped he could wait to hear what had happened.

  I scrubbed every inch of my body as if I could rid my skin of everything that had just happened. I scraped off the blood. The slashes on my back from the phouka’s claws stung under the water.

  I wondered if the scars I had collected so far could be erased. Not that I was self-conscious about them. They were just another thing I might one day have to explain. Gran had fought in wars, I remembered, and although she looked ancient without her glamour, she did not look battle-torn.

  Once I finished, I found Douglas awaiting me in the living room. I lifted my eyes to meet his, no longer afraid to show him what the night had done to me. His brows furrowed in concern. I gave him a grieved smile. “You must be wondering why I was covered in blood and have a dead wolf in the trunk of my car right now.”