Accidental Necromancer

  Accidental Necromancer

  N. E Conneely

  Copyright © 2019 N. E. Conneely

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information-storage-and-retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author. Requests for permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the author.

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  This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are made fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Second chances can be like portals to a different world, showing up where least expected, transporting you from the here to there, and never turning out exactly as expected.

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  There’s a romance in them, shrouded in heartache and mystique.

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  Death, undeath, and hauntings (of a sort) are the natural companions to second chances. The past seldom stays in its grave. Some things always seem to come back, no matter how many times you let them go. An old you must die, however metaphorically, for a new you to rise.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Also by N. E. Conneely

  New Release Newsletter

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  I could taste the blood before my tongue traced the split. My lower lip oozed from a cut in the middle of my lip where it would be clearly visible and sure to touch everything I ate or drank before it healed. Wiggling my jaw assured me it wasn’t broken, though it throbbed, as did most of my right cheek.

  Behind my back, magic pooled in my left hand. I thought the runes to shape the spell, one that would record what was said and play it back later. It wasn’t easy to cast without channeling the magic through my wand, but anger helped me focus. When the spell solidified and warmed in my hand, I knew without looking that the clear orb, about the size of a golf ball, was recording.

  Locking eyes with the man who’d punched me, a trim human in his late forties with salt and pepper hair and green eyes, I enunciated carefully in case he wasn’t as intelligent as I’d been told. “I’m reporting this. Frankly, I should arrest you myself, but that seems like a bad way to start my first full day as a special agent.”

  Colten Floyd, Assistant Special Agent in Charge of Field Investigators assigned to the Middle Tennessee region of the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, rocked back on his heels. “Good luck with that. We all know it was a training exercise.”

  “Bull. And don’t try to tell me otherwise.” I ignored the men watching us through the window and pointed at the security camera in the corner, one of more than ten in the room. “There’s video evidence of us standing here and you hitting me without provocation.”

  He shrugged. “How else was I to see if you could manifest a shield to protect you, or other agents, from physical attacks?”

  “Ask? Or better yet, look at my past weapons and field qualifications where I did just that.”

  He opened his mouth, but I didn’t stop. “You asked if I would create a shield to stop bullets. I declined. Rather than inquire as to the reason, you hit me. Nothing in that exchange demonstrates my skill as a witch. I was told you were liked by the non-humans under your command because you understood their abilities and let them use their differences to do their jobs better.

  “So far, I’ve spent eight hours indulging your desire to test my abilities rather than actually doing my job,” I said. “If you review my file, you’ll find I’ve passed the same basic qualification required of every field agent, as well as the magical qualification that is the current TBI standard. If you want to continue testing my magical abilities, take me off active duty for a week.”

  “You haven’t passed my evaluation.”

  My eyebrows shot up. If that was his attitude, I’d wasted four years at college and two years of training, during which I’d only used magic during exercises and back here for testing rather than in the field. A requirement that was just for me. They already had standards for training most non-humans, but I was their first witch, and they didn’t know exactly what to do with me.

  Or, more accurately, they didn’t trust me. “That should’ve been worked out between you and the chain of command before I graduated training and was put on active duty.” There, a nice diplomatic response he didn’t deserve.

  “We have an understanding.” The jerk smiled.

  “One that includes assaulting fellow agents?” I held my breath.

  “Training accidents happen,” he said casually. “You learn and become a better agent.”

  It only took a touch of magic to call my wand to my hand.

  Agent Floyd flinched. Now wasn’t that interesting? Maybe he did work well with other non-humans, but I doubted he’d worked with many magic users—at least not well.

  He covered quickly with a tight smile. “Why don’t we get some ice for that and call it a day.”

  I gave him a feral smile of my own. “No. We are done.” I held up the orb shaped recording spell, a third of which had gone opaque with content. “I’m taking this above you, first to your boss, Agent Smith, and then to other departments if he won’t listen. If you want me to complete extra evaluations, it goes through the proper channels, and you never touch me again.”

  He paled. “What’s that?”

  “What do you think it is?” I took a step forward.

  Floyd had retreated five steps before he caught himself. “That was a question, Agent Pine.”

  “It’s a recording spell. It has a record of everything you’ve said since you hit me. I’m turning it over as evidence in case there was some malfunction of the recording systems in this room.” I started toward the door.

  “You haven’t been dismissed.” He reached for me but hesitated an inch from my arm.

  “I told you not to touch me.” As I stepped around him, I slid my wand into the thigh sheath. My hand settled on the door handle. “You may be my boss, but you assaulted me. I don’t need your permission to leave.”

  While he was still forming a retort, I yanked open the door, turned my back on him, and left. The door slamming closed let me take my first full breath since he had hit me, though it did nothing for my throbbing face.

  In the hall, the two men who’d been by the window were now moving away from the door to give me space. I vaguely recognized the one in front, having seen him around during training. With the quintessential military hair cut leaving a sandy fuzz on his head, the easy confidence with which he moved, and muscles that didn’t stand out but were there, he struck me as ex-military. The man behind him turned and peered through the window.

  “Do you need help?” Ex-military held out a hand but wisely didn’t touch me.

  “You can come with me to report this to Agent Smith.”

  Going to Special Agent in Charge Tim Smith to accuse Floyd of assault on m
y first day was bold, even with the recording. A witness could be the difference between things being swept under the rug and a full investigation. Given Floyd’s statements, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were numerous complaints against him.

  His eyes cut to the door behind me. “Lead the way.”

  “Thank you…” The badge around his neck was twisted. Since he’d made a point by looking at the door, I figured introductions could wait and started walking.

  “Keep an eye on him, will you?” Ex-military asked the other guy.

  I didn’t hear a reply, but that could’ve been because of the pounding of my heart or the anger that was growing now that I was out of immediate danger. My fingers tightened around the recording spell, which was still active. I let it continue. It could only help my case if whoever ended up with the recording could hear a continuous track from my conversation with Floyd to their own voice. Coupled with the video, it should be enough.

  Enough for what, though? I was hardly making friends by reporting a senior agent, and one who was my boss, on my very first day. Narzel, the evil trickster he was, must’ve been paying special attention to me today.

  “I didn’t catch your name.” He lengthened his stride until he was beside me.

  “Kelsey Pine, but you already knew that.” He’d been at the window long enough to see me cast the recording spell and summon my wand. Besides, there wasn’t anyone in the TBI, as we affectionately shortened the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation’s name, who didn’t know me. I was the only witch on staff and the only witch under direct police employ in the entire state. Everyone knew me.

  “Wayne.”

  “Nice to meet you, Wayne. I appreciate the help.” That was if I still had a future with the TBI or any law enforcement agency after this. If I was fired, the clan would take me back; their entire purpose was to organize and control witches. It wouldn’t do to have us mingling with the rest of the world too much, driving down the price of magic. But the idea of going back to the clan, admitting defeat, and living with their rules left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  No. Floyd wouldn’t be the end of this dream. I hadn’t defied my clan, dodged a lifetime of casting the same spells, lost friends, and given up a guaranteed job to be fired on my first full day out of training.

  “It was the least I could do after standing there like an idiot after he punched you.” Wayne rubbed a hand across his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you out of there. There’s no excuse for my inaction.”

  “Have you ever seen anyone being assaulted in this building before?” Our headquarters wasn’t open to the public. There were exceptions, but we weren’t a police station or a jail. Most of us were more investigators or subject matter experts than police.

  “No.”

  “Then you’re forgiven.”

  “But,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “I’ve been trained to act, not stand around and puzzle over events with my buddy.”

  “Walking down the hall of a safe building chatting with a friend should be a time you can let your guard down. Besides, being a witness is useful in this circumstance.” Saying those words absolved me of my guilt as well. Spending a day training with another agent shouldn’t have ended this way. I could be angry at Floyd for being an ass, but any self-directed anger was undeserved. “As I said, you’re forgiven, and if that isn’t enough, do twenty more push-ups tonight as penitence.”

  Wayne snorted. “When I was still in training, two people in forensics started arguing about what some odd marks on a bullet casing could mean. They were nose to nose and flinging insults at one another. There was also some hair pulling.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, I know what you’re thinking, but no.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “One guy yanking on another’s ponytail.”

  I stopped and stared at him. “You’re kidding.”

  He held up his hands. “By the earth, it’s the truth.”

  An image of two guys in lab coats yanking each other’s hair while bickering popped into my mind. Once I started giggling, I couldn’t stop. Tears leaked out of my eyes as I came down from the adrenaline high I’d been on.

  With it went most of the anger, leaving fatigue behind. I wiped away the tears as my thoughts settled. My face ached. Floyd deserved to be reported, but it would’ve been easier if I was still angry. The adrenaline would’ve carried me through the complaint. “You made this harder.”

  “I know it feels that way now.” He shook his head slightly. “It’s better to have a clear mind. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “I don’t know you well enough to trust you.” I pushed off the wall and resumed the trek to Smith’s office. “But a coherent complaint is more likely to get action than an angry rant, so thank you.” Though it would’ve been fun to indulge in an angry rant.

  “That’ll do for now.”

  As the distance between us and Smith’s office shrank, I started rehearsing what I would say. My future could depend on this conversation, and striking the right tone was vital. Factual, but firm. Smith had respected that in the past, and hopefully it would be the right method for this conversation.

  We reached Smith’s office door. Wayne looked me over from head to toe, his eyes resting briefly on the spell. “Ready?”

  I sucked in a deep breath and nodded. My heart rate picked up, and suddenly, Wayne’s earlier insistence that laughter would help made sense.

  He rapped on the door. A muffled acknowledgment was all Wayne needed to open it. He motioned me inside.

  It took more than the usual amount of encouragement to get my feet moving. Under the best of circumstances, Agent Smith was intimidating. I’d seen brick walls that appeared fragile next to him. At a few inches over six feet, he was nearly a foot taller than my own 5’5”. He had the bulk too, with shoulders that looked like they could hold up the world and the muscles to go with them. Sitting behind a department issue desk, he looked like a myth that had gotten a little lost.

  He shoved a stack of papers to the side and looked up. Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips. His eyes locked onto my split lip and puffy cheek. Smith looked past me to Wayne and then back at me. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “Split lip. I think the rest is just bruised, but I’m no doctor.” My hands shook a little, but I held out the spell anyway. “Will you accept this recording? It’s evidence of what happened. It’s also still active, but if you accept it, I can make it stop so you can listen to it.” Some of that was babbling, but I hoped he would understand.

  Smith held out his hand. “I am willingly accepting a recording spell from Agent Pine, who will now end the recording so it can be reviewed.”

  I set the orb in his hand and fed a bit more magic to the spell. “Haglaz.” It stopped recording, and the orb turned from clear to a soft blue, with the bottom third darker than the rest.

  He set it down on the desk and motioned for the two of us to take seats. “What happened?”

  Chapter Two

  The vinyl seat was cold, or maybe that was just me. The words I’d rehearsed seemed far away. Fatigue and nerves vied for dominance. Looking at his intense brown eyes, I got right to the point. “Agent Floyd hit me. He called it a training accident. When I showed up this morning, he told me that all agents assigned to him did a training review. We went through a bit of everything, firearms, policies, procedures, basic field magic, and then he took me back to the range. It was just us. He said he wanted me to demonstrate some offensive and defensive magics. We went through a few drills.

  “Then he asked if I could create a shield that would stop a bullet. I said no. He punched me. I created that recording of the rest of our exchange. He said since I refused to create the requested shield, hitting me was the only way to see if I could create a shield to stop a physical attack. After a short exchange, I told him I had the recording and was reporting him for assault. Wayne and another person witnessed the assault.” With that, I hunched against the chair. Whatev
er happened next, it was out of my hands.

  Smith picked up his phone and poked a few numbers. “Ice and a medic in my office, please. Also, see if anyone from evidence collection can come this way with a camera. No, it isn’t that serious.” He hung up the phone and pushed away from his desk. He pulled a blanket out of a filing cabinet and draped it over me before returning to his seat. “I want documentation, not because I doubt you but to prevent anyone else from questioning your integrity.”

  I nodded as the impact of those words sank in. I was being protected. I would be able to wake up tomorrow, come to work, and do my job.

  “Harris, what did you see?” Smith asked.

  It took me a moment to realize Harris was Wayne’s last name.

  “Agent Barnes and I were walking down the hall when we passed the indoor range. I looked over to see Agent Pine and Agent Floyd talking. Floyd appeared unhappy with the conversation and Pine was calm. Then he punched her in the face. To my regret I was too surprised to immediately rush in. I checked with Agent Barnes, who also saw the assault. At that point we realized Agent Pine did not need our assistance. She had a recording orb in her hand, which I don’t think Floyd could see. They had a short exchange, only a minute or so, and she showed him the orb before leaving. At that point I offered to come add my testimony. Then we came directly here.”

  “Is that everything?”

  “No.” Agent Harris glanced at me before focusing on Smith. “When Agent Floyd struck Agent Pine, she lost her grip on her wand, and it ended up on the floor several feet away from her. Later, she used magic to call the wand to her hand. Agent Floyd flinched. When she showed him the orb, he backed away. I believe him to be afraid of active magic and magic practitioners, either in general or of Agent Pine specifically. Nothing in the interaction I saw gave me a reason to believe Agent Pine had threatened Agent Floyd with magic, but I couldn’t hear the exchange.” His voice was factual through the entire report.