I continued staring at the people on the picture box; absorbing in their laughter, their smiles, and the way they showed affection for one another. I’d never yearned for something so much. I wanted to experience this, wanted to feel what they felt. “Sarah,” I called to her again.
“Yes, Kenina,” Sarah sighed.
“Do you have a family?”
“I do have a family,” her voice seemed to fall. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s late. You should get some sleep.”
I’d never seen Sarah act this way. I wonder what her problem was. Deciding to drop it all together, I pulled the blanket up to my chin and continued to watch Jack’s picture box until my eyes became heavy.
Seven
Over the next few weeks, Sarah and I both healed from our injuries. I tried to push away the weird feelings I got that night when Jack helped me take off the jeans, but every time he entered the room, those same feelings seemed to find their way back. Even ignoring him wouldn’t keep them away.
There was something about Jack, something exciting. It was like the room seemed to light up every time he walked in, even though we fought constantly. About everything. The funny thing was, I couldn’t even fall asleep at night, visions of Jack’s green eyes, dark hair, and soft complexion invaded my mind, but I blamed my lack of sleep on his sofa.
Living with Jack was no doubt difficult, I found it hard to keep the fire contained inside me on many occasions, but I knew sending Jack up into a puff of smoke wouldn’t help me blend into the mortal world. Besides, for some reason, deep inside, I didn’t think I could ever hurt Jack.
***
A sweet scent lingered in the air around me. I slowly opened my eyes, still expecting to see golden walls, velvet blankets, and a servant or two dashing around my room even though I’d been in the mortal world for what seemed like forever. But that wasn’t the case at all. Instead, I was surrounded by the same bland wooden walls, a wooden floor, and Jack’s picture box just across the room.
I swore, even though I was immortal, the simplicity of Jack’s house and the mortal world were going to be the death of me.
Voices and laughter rang out from the kitchen. Sarah and Jack. I pushed the blanket away from me and slipped off the sofa. The wooden floor was freezing cold under the soles of my feet, causing me to wince. I pulled the red shirt that Jack gave me last night down as far as I could stretch it and wandered toward the kitchen.
Peering into the doorway, I saw Sarah sitting at Jack’s table watching him as he mixed something around in a bowl. I stepped into the kitchen and Sarah greeted me with a smile.
“Good morning,” she said. “You’re up early.”
I nodded, but my attention drifted away from her as Jack slightly turned his head toward me. I could have sworn his lips lifted into a smile before he turned back around.
“What are you guys doing?” I continued to watch Jack.
Sarah rolled her eyes and laughed. “Well, Jack seems to think he can make pancakes better than I can. So he basically pushed me out of the way. Men.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Jack turned around and lifted his dark brows, a smile playing at his lips. “Does that laugh mean you think you can do better?”
I twisted my lips, fighting off a smile. “I’m a goddess. I can do everything better. You should know that by now.”
Jack and Sarah both laughed.
“Come give it a whirl then.” He held the spoon out toward me.
I walked over to Jack, grabbed the wooden spoon from his hand, and playfully pushed him out of the way. “All I do is stir this spoon around, right,” I asked, dipping the spoon in the thick, yellow batter.”
I could feel Jack’s warm breath blowing against my neck as he moved closer. “I don’t know. You tell me. You’re the expert.”
I smiled, warmth circulating in my cheeks.
I began stirring the batter around in the bowl while Jack continued to stand behind me. He was watching my every move. I could feel his gaze absorbing into me. It sent a sudden burst of chills rippling up my spine.
After I stirred for what seemed like forever, I turned and asked, “So what do I do now?”
“Now”—Jack lifted his brows—“we need to get a frying pan out from the cabinet.” He reached down alongside me and pulled open one of the many doors just below me. He pulled out something round and black, and then walked over to another box-shaped object. One much different than his picture box.
He placed the so-called frying pan on one of the circular rings on top of the box and turned a knob on the back. It clicked a few times, but nothing happened.
Jack sighed deeply. “Man, I hate when this happens.”
“What’s wrong,” I asked, leaning across his cabinet and gazing at the weird contrapment.
“The pilot light went out again on the stove.” Jack stepped away from the stove and glanced around. “And I have no idea whether I have any matches lying around or not.”
Sarah chuckled behind us. “Silly, Jack. You don’t need matches when Kenina is around. She can make her own fire, remember?”
Jack’s gaze shifted to me. “Well, princess, let’s see what you can do.”
“First off”—I lifted my hand and directed it toward his burner—“I’m not a princess.” A small ball of fire shot out from my hand and hit the burner dead on, instantly igniting the burner and causing the flames to roll up near the ceiling.
“Holy, cow!” Jack ducked to the ground and used his hand to shield his face. “Are you freaking insane. You’re going to burn my house down.”
Sarah and I both laughed at his reaction.
“Only if I wanted too,” I said, smiling.
The flame settled and Jack pulled himself back up to his feet, trying to pretend nothing just happened while Sarah continued to giggle in the background.
“Okay,” he said, placing the pan onto the burner, hand shaking slightly. “Get ready to pour the batter into the pan.”
I turned and lifted the bowl, and then brought it up to the pan. I ever so slowly poured the thick, yellow goo into the pan until Jack told me to stop. By the time I was done, there were five circular globs of batter in the pan.
“Once it bubbles at the top, use this to flip them over.” He handed me something with a flat end and a long handle.
“Got it,” I said, still amused by his reaction from the flames.
Once tiny bubbles began consuming the batter, I slid the flat end thing he handed me underneath and flipped the goo over. Surprisingly, it was golden brown.
Our first batch of pancakes were perfect. Of course. I lifted the bowl once Jack removed the pancakes from the pan to start some more, using the wooden spoon to scrape the goo from the bottom. Apparently, I scraped a little too hard, flinging the thick, yellow batter out of the bowl and sending it through the air. It struck Jack in his nose, and then quickly began making its way down the front of his face.
I immediately dropped the bowl on the counter and broke out into fits of laughter. The surprised look on his face and the sight of the batter running down his chin almost had me in tears. And Sarah wasn’t helping the situation much. She nearly fell out of the chair from laughing so hard.
Jack’s cheeks tinted red, and I could tell he was fighting back a smile. “So, you think it’s funny, do you?” He reached inside the bowl and pulled out a handful off thick dough.
I began backing away, still laughing and throwing my hands up in the air. “No, Jack! Don’t you dare!”
Before I knew it, a cold wetness hit the side of my cheek. I picked up my hand and swiped away the goo while Jack stood across from me. He was the one laughing this time.
Oh, this was war.
I snatched the bowl and Jack lunged forward to grab me, but I twisted out of his reach before he was able to get his hands around me. I dipped my hand into the bowl.
“By the way, Jack,” I said with a grin. “I’m not a princess. I’m a goddess.” I flung a handfu
l of batter in his direction, but he managed to duck out of the way. It hit Sarah instead, causing us to laugh even harder.
Jack raced toward me, but I ran around the table with the bowl, turning every now and then to toss more batter in his direction. I couldn’t see if any of it actually hit him. I was concentrating more on keeping out of his reach.
Sarah was now on the floor as the chase continued, her face was tomato red as she continued to laugh. I had to admit, I’d never felt so free or had this much fun in my entire life. We were all laughing and giggling except for the few squeals that escaped me when Jack came too close.
Finally, Jack managed to catch up, but instead of trying to grab me, he threw his entire body at me, tackling me to ground. I laughed so hard my sides began to hurt as he wrestled the bowl out of my hands and slid it across the floor to Sarah.
Jack lay on top of me, my back against floor. He smiled as he gazed down at me, green eyes sparkling in amusement. Then something amazing happened. His eyes met mine, and besides looking ridiculously funny with pancake batter spattered all over his face, something odd began tugging at my heart. A warmth, unlike the flame spiraling around inside me constantly, flowed through my entirety. Not only was I confused by these feelings, but it seemed to leave me paralyzed.
Jack lifted his hand and brushed his fingers across my cheek, wiping away the thick mess. Then he placed his finger in his mouth, tasting the batter. He smiled, his eyes still on mine. “Not only are you fiery, but you taste good too.”
I shook my head and laughed. Then I pushed my hands against his chest. “Get off me, Jack.”
He slowly shifted off of me and slid over onto the floor beside me, still smiling.
I pulled myself to my feet and looked at Sarah. Her cheeks were still red from her laughter even though she was only smiling now. I ignored her and tugged down the tee shirt. “Okay, back to the pancakes. I’m dying to know what these things taste like,” I said, trying to escape the awkward feelings sweeping through me.
I glanced down once more at Jack, wondering how he could make me feel so weird. Then I turned around and headed for the stove, knowing more than anything I could fight this.
Whatever it was.
Eight
All three of us sat around Jack’s kitchen table, like the families in his picture box, eating the creation Jack and I made. I’d never felt so perfect, so included, and I’d never tasted anything so fluffy and so full of goodness before. Why was it we never had pancakes is Osarious? They were definitely a food for the gods and goddesses. All I was ever offered back home was ambrosia and nectar.
After we ate, Sarah and I cleaned up the mess Jack and I made while Jack disappeared from the room.
“I think I can get used to the mortal world,” I confessed to Sarah as I scooped the plates up off the table.
Sarah giggled. “Kenina, this is only a small part of my world. A very small part.” She turned on the faucet to fill the sink. “You don’t want to see some of the parts of my world. It can get pretty ugly. Not everyone is as kind as Jack.”
“He is kind, isn’t he?” I smiled as I walked the plates over to her.
She turned and lifted her brows. “I think you have feelings for Jack.”
“I like him.” I shook my head and lifted my shoulders. “He’s a good friend.”
Sarah laughed. “I think you may like him more than a friend.”
I handed her the stack of plates. “He’s a good friend,” I said, leaving it at that.
Just then, Jack entered the kitchen, unleashing a million butterflies into the pit of my stomach. I nearly dropped the plates to the floor as I took in his denim jeans, his tan boots, and the black tee that stretched across his tight chest and broad shoulders. His face, with a grin tugging his lips, was more glorious than any of the gods I’d ever seen.
“I need to go outside and chop up some wood for the stove,” he said, moving across the room. “We’re going to have a cold spell coming through.”
“I’ll go with you.” God, what was I saying? I’d never chopped wood in my life.
Jack turned, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “If you plan on going outside, you’re going to have to put on a little more than that tee shirt.”
I sighed deeply. “I’ll go get the jeans.”
Sarah and Jack laughed.
Ignoring both of them, I handed the plates off to Sarah and took off out of the kitchen, weaving through the living room, until I reached the small bathroom.
Sarah’s jeans were neatly folded on the sink. After I managed to squeeze myself into the pants, I made my way back out into the kitchen. Sarah was waiting for me by a door at the back of the room with my shoes in her hand.
I took my shoes and put them on. Then we both slipped out the door in search of Jack.
Something about Jack holding an ax in his hand sent a tingly feeling through my insides. He looked so rough, tough, and just simply amazing swinging his ax over his head and smashing down into the block of wood.
“Would you like some help, Jack?” Sarah walked ahead of me while I stood there, frozen, unable to pull my eyes away from him.
Jack turned his head, leaving the tip of the ax in the chunk of wood. “I have a few small logs over behind the shed if you want to go get them.”
“Sure,” she said. Then she spun around and headed for a small building a few feet away from us. “I know you like him more than a friend, Kenina,” she whispered as she walked by. “Here’s your chance. You’ve been avoiding him for weeks, go talk to him.”
Talk to him? Talk to him about what? I had no idea what to say to him.
I took a deep breath and walked over to Jack and sat down on a big, round log beside him. “Does it get really cold here?”
“It can,” he said breathlessly as he continued to swing the ax over his head and smashing it into the big piece of wood in front of him, cutting it in half. He took one of the halves and sliced his ax into that one, making it smaller. “Doesn’t it get cold where you’re from?”
“No.” I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. “Osarious is warm all the time. As long as I can remember, anyway.”
“How old are you, Kenina?” Jack continued to question me while he worked. “No, wait”—sarcasm rolled through his voice—“let me guess. You’re probably immortal. So you’re probably hundreds, even thousands, of years old.”
I laughed. “Yes, Jack, I am immortal, but I’m only eighteen.”
Jack stopped the ax in midair and turned to face me, his green eyes curious. “You’re only eighteen?” He slowly lowered the ax to the ground.
I nodded.
“Really?” He lifted his eyebrows.
“Yeah, really.” I tightened my lips, fighting a smile. “That’s why I had to leave my world. I couldn’t imagine being married to someone I hated for the rest of eternity. It’s a stupid tradition. And it’s not fair.”
“You’re right.” He leaned on the wooden handle attached to his ax. “That doesn’t seem fair. But couldn’t you just talk to your parents about it? I mean, I’m sure they would have understood.”
I shook my head. “No, Jack. I tried talking to my father, and it sort of blew up in my face.”
“What do you mean?”
I glanced up underneath my lashes. “My father nearly drowned me because I lost my temper and set his throne room on fire.”
Suddenly, Jack began laughing hysterically. “You set your father’s throne room on fire?”
“Yes,” I snapped, not thinking any of this was funny. “Then he almost drowned me. Just in case you missed that part.”
“I’m sorry,” he snickered. “It really isn’t funny. It’s just that you don’t look like you’re capable of something like that.”
“And what’s that’s supposed to mean?” I glared at him.
He held up his hand. “Relax, it was a compliment,” he chuckled.
I was tired of trying to explain my life to Jack. He never real
ly seemed to get how dangerous I could be when someone crossed me. I decided it was time to turn the tables on him. Besides, I was really curious about him.
“Why do you live out here by yourself, Jack? Sarah said she has a family, but she won’t tell me about them. What about you, where is your family?” I searched his green eyes for answers, but he quickly turned away and picked up his ax again.
I waited for what seemed like forever for him to answer me. Just when I was about ready to give up, he finally spoke.
“My real parents were deadbeats. My dad apparently left the day he found out my mom was pregnant. She left two days after I was born. I was still in the hospital. My grandparents raised me. My grandmother died about ten years ago, and I lost my grandfather last year. Luckily, I was considered an adult at the time of his death. If not, the state would’ve taken me away and put me in a home.” He smashed another log in half with the tip of his ax. Then he lowered the ax and brought his arm up, sweeping it across his forehead. “I’m twenty years old and trying to survive off the land my grandparents left me.” Jack glanced at me briefly. “There you have it. That’s the story of my life.”
“Wow.” I hugged my knees tighter. “I’m sorry.”
Jack continued to chop the wood in front of him. “There’s no need to feel sorry for me, Kenina. I have everything I need here to survive.”
I breathed in the crisp air around me, envying Jack for being so strong and not letting things get under his skin like I did. “Well, Jack Dalton.” I fought to contain my smile. “I must say your grandparents must’ve been amazing people.”
Jack dropped his ax on the ground and looked at me. “Why would you say that? You didn’t even know them.”
“Because I know you, Jack.” I couldn’t hide my smile this time. “I’d never met someone so kind, so caring before. You didn’t have to take me and Sarah in. You could have called someone to take us away, to take me away, even after you saw what I could do. But you didn’t.” I swallowed hard. “There’s so much more to you, Jack. So much I want to know now.”
What was I doing? What was I saying? This was so unlike me.
Goddess of Fire: Burn: An Elemental Short (The Elemental Short Story Series) Page 3