Mackenzie Green 0.5: Catch and Release, page 1
part #0.50 of Mackenzie Green Series
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Any unauthorized reproduction or sale of this work may be subject to legal prosecution.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are a product of the authors’ imagination and not based on real events. Any resemblance to people, places, and things in real life is purely coincidental.
Catch and Release – A Mackenzie Green Novella
Copyright © 2023 by JS Kennedy Publishing Inc
Cover art by : Original Book Cover Design
All Rights Reserved
No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the author, except in case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or review.
Contact author at: J.S_Kennedy@yahoo.com
Join her mailing list @ jskennedy.ca
With hope for the future.
Mackenzie Green Series:
Catch and Release – Novella
Green Gryphon
Green Mage
Green Shadow
Contents
Map GreenRiver
Map GreenRiver
Letter to parents
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
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About Author
Glossary
Chapter 1
I had wandered far and wide in search of a place my magic liked, and when I’d arrived in GreenRiver, my powers sang in my blood and I’d seen. This was where I should. . . No needed to be. Now the hard work began.
I wasn’t sure what to think of the Skull Crushers Guild as I marched toward its main hall, the stink of sweat assaulting me. My information suggested that this group was better known for the strength of their fists and less so for their abundance of brains, it was certainly reflected in the place’s ambiance.
It was a dreary place, lacking natural light, and the stone walls seemed to close in on you. Mismatched, rough wooden furniture with no cushion in sight was crammed against bare stone walls, it fit well with the mercenaries who lounged on them. I tugged at the collar of my shirt, as if that would help keep the smothering feeling creeping up on me at bay.
Attempting to distract myself from the oppressive atmosphere, I looked around. A poor choice. My lips curled in disgust at the grime-covered floors, and my eyes twitched . . . By the old God, only two of the twelve places on the chandelier have candles. The lack of care for the minor details irked me. If one was going to run a business, one should take care of it as one would a child - with love, attention, and devotion.
On the hunt for the woman who would be the first step in creating the guild I desired, I moved towards the noise echoed in the distance. I couldn’t see where the yelling and cheers were coming from, but I had a general direction, and walked forward with my head held high, desperately trying not to show how the penetrating stares of the mercenaries made me want to squirm.
In my head, I reminded myself why I was here.
Every group has its black sheep, and if I play this right, I might just steal theirs.
A burly man rushed past me, bumping my shoulder. “Watch it!” He growled as he passed, and I stepped out of the way both to avoid being crushed, and because he was dirty and reeked of BO.
Who knows what germs he’s carrying, and this is a new suit. I brushed a non-existent piece of lint off my jacket.
Then again, simply being here is going to require me to burn my clothing down to my underthings. Such a waste. The man didn’t even pause to apologize for the near miss.
I know I’m on the smaller side for a male, but I’m hardly invisible. Curiosity overcame my disgust when the man didn’t slow.
Turning, I looked to see where he was heading in such a rush and a smile tugged at my lips when my eyes landed on a knot of people.
Over the gathering crowd, two men of similar build faced off against a third opponent I sadly couldn’t see. The bystanders vibrated with the unrestrained energy of people about to be entertained at the expense of others.
More people poured in from several directions, and the crowd grew. The closer I got, the more my nose itched with the smell. Everyone held a tankard of ale, cider, or shine, and those whose glasses were almost empty chanted the loudest as the two opposing sides yelled encouragement to the combatants. The drinking must have started elsewhere and migrated here because the crowd was far too tipsy for them to have just begun.
I elbowed my way forward, trying hard to make as little contact as possible with the surrounding people. It looks like the whole guild has gathered. My target should be somewhere around here. It became increasingly difficult to move as the onlookers surged forward, eager to get even closer to the action.
Finally, I made it to the front, and, for a moment, I simply stopped and stared. I had hoped to find the target of my quest in the crowd, but never in my wildest dreams had I expected my black sheep to be at the very center of the action.
Then again, from the glimpses I’d seen, maybe it wasn’t all that shocking.
The woman I searched for stood before me, a confident beacon despite her small stature. Reaching up, she pushed her fingers through her short platinum spiked hair, a smirk on her lips and a mischievous sparkle glittering in her blue eyes. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she was not at all intimidated by her opponents, who topped her by at least six inches and outweighed her by fifty pounds. No, if anything, she seemed excited about what was to come.
Her hands fisted, and I spotted knives strapped to her hips. Though she must’ve been itching to draw them, she resorted to taunting the men across from her instead.
“What did you say, Dirk?” Her words were light and mocking but backed with more than a little steel.
“I said, women ain’t good enough for this work. You should find yourself a man, make some brats, and tend the house.” He sneered at her and nudged his buddy with his elbow.
Moron.
The Resurgence, a world-shattering event that had destroyed synthetic material and imbued people with powers straight out of a fairy tale, blurred the lines regarding gender stereotypes. And even before magic broke the world, women were rarely forced into the roles of housewife and child-rearing.
Today, people didn’t often judge one another based on their sex, the color of their skin, or their ethnic origin. Discrimination these days tended to be expressed based on the amount of power one possessed, rather than any other genetic quirks. Humans sadly drew the short end of the stick, and unless they had power through wealth, politics, or martial ability, they tended to be looked down upon by the supernatural races.
I covered my mouth, hiding my forming smile. Anticipation curled in my belly, and I swung my head back to the woman, eager for her response.
Dirk, it seemed, had a more pre-Resurgence mentality. That, or he was a dick. Magic or no, idiots still existed.
The woman didn’t bluster at the offense, and I wasn’t surprised. Females, in my observation, tended not to let silly things like pride impede logic. It was the males of most species that preferred to let superficial insults hurled by individuals of no consequence impair their judgment, much to their folly.
Then again, it might be my upbringing that colored my perception of women. In the community I’d come from, women were considered wise and often sought out for their cool heads and sharp logic.
“Right. Just checking. Don’t want you two crying foul when I kick your sorry asses,” the woman said, her tone even. She shook out her arms, loosening the muscles.
Now that Dirk had committed himself to this idiocy, I inspected him. There was nothing that outright screamed asshole. In fact, objectively, he was quite striking. His jaw was powerful and square, his reddish-brown hair cut short. Not quite military short but close. Together, the facial features worked to enhance his overall mercenary vibe.
A jagged scar puckered the skin on his cheek, but that only heightened the intense look in his brown eyes and cemented his bad-ass appeal. If he could refrain from speaking, I’d imagine he’d be considered a catch.
Dirk looked over his shoulder at his friend. They exchanged furrowed brows, and their mouths thinned. Clearly, they’d been expecting a different reaction.
The woman, tired of waiting, or bored—it was hard to tell from her expression—crouched, extended one hand, and motioned to the pair with two fingers.
“Are you ready to do this, or do you need more time to posture? I have an appointment to get my hair done, and I don’t want to miss it.”
Dirk’s pride overrode his common sense. Eyes glinting with malice, he nudged his friend again. “Cody, did you hear what she said?”
Cody, the taller, thinner version of Dirk, grinned in return. “I think she implied that her hair was more important than us.”
The woman covered her face with a hand, obviously embarrassed at the byplay.
“Stop gabbing and get to it, pansies!” a male voice shouted from the crowd.
“Show them not to mess with us wom en, Chris!” chanted a female voice from the opposite side of the group.
“I think you’re right. We should teach her a lesson.” Dirk smacked his fist into his palm with a vicious smile.
I couldn’t help the eagerness that built inside me. I wasn’t normally a violent person, but even I was being swept up by the energy of the crowd.
“After you, friend.” Cody motioned for Dirk to start.
Dirk’s face turned serious as he took a step toward his victim. The woman, Chris, not content for him to come to her, darted forward like a cobra. Surprised at her speed, Dirk stayed flat-footed as she pivoted and struck out with a devastating roundhouse kick. Her leg arched over her head, and her aim was true. The heel of her foot connected with Dirk’s temple, and the larger man dropped.
My laughter was the only sound echoing in the hall. Though it wasn’t long before the stunned crowd reacted to the beauty of the move and roared in approval.
Cody looked at his fallen friend and then at Chris. His face went red, starting at his neck and moving up until it encompassed his entire head. Thrusting his hands out in front of him, the air thickened as rings of metal wove around his fingers, solidifying into brass.
With a bellow of rage, he charged.
His opponent nimbly dodged his punches. Graceful like a dancer, her body liquid. There one moment, gone the next. My heart fluttered at the effortlessness of it, and my pants tightened in an uncomfortable area.
I wasn’t much of a fighter, and I didn’t have the innate skill or the drive to alter that. But I could appreciate a master when I saw one. And though I was guilty at times of letting my pride dictate my actions, I wasn’t one to shy away from a strong woman. In fact, I very much appreciated one.
Chris controlled the fight for another five minutes, and her amusement increased as Cody’s frustration mounted. At one point, she laughed like a child, pure joy in the moment, but as the fight wore on, her focus wavered.
Something drew her attention, and her eyes scanned the crowd. I found myself desperate to learn what was going through her head as her eyes took on a faraway look.
Her movements slowed, showing mounting fatigue, but her breathing was steady and only a light dotting of perspiration marred her brow. Her level of precision didn’t waver. Even distracted and tired, she dominated her opponent.
Cody, on the other hand, was breathing hard, and the muscles in his arms shook after every swing.
The fun and games suddenly ended. Chris’s face became serious, and her attention snapped to her opponent with unnerving scrutiny. This was the most consideration she had given Cody throughout their fight.
Ten minutes was an eternity in battle, especially a one-on-one bout. The combatants were constantly engaged with one another and there was no chance for a break or to catch your breath. Few fighters could last over fifteen minutes, and Cody was not in what I would consider peak physical condition. Adrenaline could only carry him so far.
Chris chose her moment well and thuds sounded in quick succession: eyes, throat, solar plexus, groin.
Hunching over, Cody cried out. His hands, not knowing where to defend, uselessly altered between his eyes and his man-bits, too late to protect either. I winced in sympathy. The man deserved it, that wasn’t in doubt, but it was guy code to cringe when another guy took a hit to the sac.
Breaths heaving out in wheezing gasps, Cody tried to moan and failed as his diaphragm spasmed. Dropping to his knees, he flinched when Chris walked over to him.
She’d barely broken a sweat, and reaching over, she placed a single finger in the middle of his forehead. With the gentlest of pushes, Cody toppled. He stayed down.
“Tell me again how a woman isn’t fit for this line of work!” She nudged him with her toe and muttered, “Asshole.”
Ladies and gentlemen, my black sheep.
Chapter 2
I waited. When tailoring a job offer to an unknown asset, it was good to see what their natural environment was like. It was important to create a contract that was lucrative enough to entice them away without making it seem like a scam. I had no desire to end up on the wrong end of a misunderstanding.
Her guildmates departed now that the action was over. Some congregated to one side, and coins exchanged hands. A few others, laughing, went over to taunt Dirk and Cody.
I looked away from the latter, angry at the sight. It was one thing to pick a favorite when there was conflict, but the two men were helpless. It wasn’t right to go after them when they couldn’t defend themselves.
I scanned the crowd and watched as the rest of the spectators ignored the plight of their fallen brethren. Is no one going to offer to assist them? That didn’t seem right. A guild should be a family. A place you know you are welcome. Where someone will help you up when you fall or pat your back in sympathy when you lose. Where someone is always in your corner.
Skull Crushers, it seemed, were not what I dreamed of when I thought of a guild, and a pang echoed through my chest. I rubbed it, willing the ache to ease.
My guild will be better, I vowed.
My people-watching ended when I spotted Chris edging out of the room. She had almost made her escape when a red-headed giant stormed into the area from the opposite direction. All chatter ceased, as if the air had been sucked out of the room.
“Christine!” he bellowed.
Viking blood must run in his veins because he was that large, with scraggly hair and a bare chest with strips of leather crisscrossing the expanse to secure his weapon. A double-headed axe peeked over one shoulder.
“What the hell, bitch?” He waved a meaty arm between her and the two downed guild members.
To her credit, Christine didn’t seem intimidated by the mountain of a man who towered over her. She stared up at him in silence for a moment, popping a bubble with gum I hadn’t noticed her chewing.
Chuckling to myself, I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. If he was someone in charge of the guild, this would provide valuable information.
“Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Dumber thought that because I have a vagina instead of a penis, I wasn’t to be treated as a paying, contributing member of this guild.” Chris planted her hands on her hips.
Big Red ran a hand down his face and carded his fingers through his beard.
“Listen, sunshine—“
He didn’t have time to say anything else as Chris stood on the very tips of her toes and pointed one of her tiny fingers right in his face.
“I keep telling you assholes, call me Chris.” She waved her hands in the air, clearly having fought this battle before and lost. “Chris. It’s only five letters. How hard is that to remember,” she snarled.
I had to admit, even without my brief glimpse into her future, or the gut sense of how important she was going to be, this, right here, would have caught my attention.
Hell, if I played my cards right, maybe she would be open to getting a drink with me in a more personal setting after we talked business. A guy could dream.
Big Red held up his hands in a condescending, placating manner. “Sorry, sorry.” His tone indicated otherwise.
Chris caught the insincerity, and her eyes sparked with rage. Big Red took a small step back, his eyes widening. People began filtering back in, anticipating round two.
Gaze darting from side to side, he found no help in the crowd. I chuckled. Everyone was too wrapped up in this new opportunity to bet, and no one wanted to be the one who interfered and changed the odds.
When he’d first stormed in, Big Red had exuded such an air of command, I assumed he was the Guildmaster. If he was, then this display of cowardice caused my already dismal view of Skull-Crushers to tank even further. I gave this coward ten seconds before he bolted. Huh, he only lasted five. Chicken.
“This is your final warning, Christine.” Big Red said, then hurried out of the room.
Chris shook her head and muttered under her breath.
Dirk and Cody groaned and regained enough sense to crawl out of the way.
Assured of her place as top dog, Chris turned her startling, azure eyes to me. Walking over to where I still leaned against a wall, she crossed her arms and asked, “Enjoy the show?”
I was impressed. She had noticed a stranger in the crowd while in the middle of a fight. Perhaps, while our eyes had not met, that is what drew her attention during the fight. If so, her awareness of her surroundings was incredible.
