Amaretto Flame

by Sammie Spencer

  I was rewarded with another smile, and then he said, “I’ll see you at work.” In another moment, he was gone and I was left to my own feelings. Surprisingly, I did none of the things I’d expected to do when I arrived back at the house. I’d wanted to pound out my fury on the treadmill in the exercise room, maybe blast some loud and heavy music. Instead, I picked up my work uniform, threw it in the washer, got something to eat, and then cleaned up the kitchen a little.

  Throughout these chores, I was able to keep my brain silent, but when I ran out of things to do, my thoughts came rushing in without mercy. My anger at Ivanna had dulled to a throbbing madness, and I was determined to think of some way to protect my family. I couldn’t shake the bad feeling I had that something was about to happen. If Lillian’s oracle was right, the Venator were searching for something or someone, and the only reason I could think of for them to do this was that this person or thing they wanted was of great benefit to them.

  Between these frightening thoughts were the vivid memories of the way Jackson’s arms had felt around me. Jenny had hugged me, but I hadn’t felt the shocking sensation with her. Jackson was the only male human I’d ever really been in contact with physically. He was the only male I ever hugged – not counting my time before Eagleton – other than my coven brothers, and their hugs had been very different.

  When I thought of him, I felt…odd. My heart raced and a smile threatened to overtake me, even in the face of all that was wrong right now. I’d discovered since coming to Staves that there was a lot I’d missed out on; a lot I didn’t know, but I wasn’t stupid. It was clear to me that I liked Jackson Vance. I tried to analyze that. What about him was so attractive to me? Sure, he was gorgeous and seemed to be a genuinely sweet person, but there was something else. I kept thinking about the way he refused to take a shot alone. Maybe something about the vulnerability in that appealed to me. I sighed in frustration with myself.

  By the time I had dressed for work, I’d already decided that I had to put my crush on Jackson out of my mind. It wasn’t smart to encourage it for a number of reasons. First, I would be leaving as soon as I could get it through Ivanna’s thick skull that I needed to be in Eagleton. Second, I didn’t want to be one of the girls Jenny and Erika had mentioned when they talked about Jackson – the girls he was ‘involved’ with but gave up the moment they confessed they had feelings with him.

  Finally, it was plainly evident that me getting close to Jackson wouldn’t be accepted by some of my co-workers; ones that were devastatingly beautiful on the outside and still insecure enough to point out someone else’s faults.

  So that was it. No more Jackson Vance.

  Chapter 8

  Sunday night at Stallott’s was dead. The greater majority of regular customers had work the next morning, so we were all able to breathe a sigh of relief. My sigh was deeper because Sunday night meant Renee was back to being the bartender and Paula and Rick weren’t required. The downside of this was that there were few things to keep me occupied, so my darker thoughts from earlier kept returning, as well as my overwhelming need to glance toward the stage.

  With all the glasses clean, and just a few customers to wait on, I expected a quiet night. Imagine my surprise when I turned from wiping down a booth to see Everett coming in the darkly-tinted door. I was immediately embarrassed when his eyes found me and took in the skimpy uniform. Jenny noticed him a moment later, and raised her eyebrows, fluffing her hair with her hand. “Oh look. It’s my future husband. Who is that baby-faced hottie eyeballing you from the door?”

  “Brother,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Hey, I’m going to take a quick break. I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded and I hurried over to Everett, taking his hand and leading him back outside. It was growing warmer. Beltane had come and gone without me even celebrating; something I hadn’t missed for years. When we reached the side of the building, I swiveled and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “What are you doing here, Everett?” I asked, irritation obvious in my voice. I wasn’t mad that he was here – I was holding myself back from grabbing hold of him and crying my eyes out – I was mad that he hadn’t taken my side in the argument with Ivanna earlier. Taking his long jacket off, he wrapped it around me quickly and looked at me for a long moment.

  “I should ask you the same thing,” he said, with a note of irritation all his own. “You’re the future high-priestess of Eagleton and you look like a…” He trailed off, apparently not irritated enough to say what he’d been thinking, but his icy eyes flashed.

  “…A what, Everett?” I glared at him. “It’s pretty sad that you didn’t see me angry enough earlier, so you had to come here and throw more shit my way? That’s not the saddest thing, though. The saddest part is that I am future high-priestess of Eagleton, and that something bad is about to happen, and I’m here. Doing this.” I took the jacket back off and thrust it at him. The thumping of the music inside the building got louder for half a moment; just enough to make me picture Jackson’s face.

  “I know,” he said, tucking the jacket over his arm and taking my hand. It wasn’t what I expected, so I felt immediately guilty for yelling at him. “That’s why I came. I should have said something earlier. I should have defended you to Ivanna. I think something else is going on, Livvy. Ivanna has brought in Lillian’s oracle. She’s staying in Eagleton, and there have been non-stop secret meetings between the older members. It’s weird.”

  A small noise caught both my attention and Everett’s. It was faint; a rustle of the leaves in the woods behind Stallott’s. We were both tense and at times that was enough to make our senses stretch out automatically, but I heard nothing else. The next moment, Jackson’s voice startled me from the corner of the building.

  “Is everything okay, Olivia?” He asked, stepping out so I could see him, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans.

  “Oh, Jackson, you scared me,” I said, letting go of Everett’s hand. “Yeah. Everything is fine. This is my brother, Everett. Everett, this is Jackson.”

  Everett gave Jackson a look that was obviously sizing him up, and then he put out his hand. “Nice to meet you Jackson.” He looked back at me and added, “I have to go, Livvy. I just wanted to say I was sorry and to tell you about that other thing.” He kissed me on the cheek and walked past Jackson, but then he stopped and turned back toward me. “Oh, and Livvy, watch your language. That stuff sounds terrible coming out of your mouth. Bad influence, I guess.” He pointed toward the building, and then left. His last reminder that this job was beneath me.

  I resisted the urge to yell at Everett, but only because Jackson was standing there. Giving him a smile, I gestured toward the bar. “Shall we?”

  I was distracted for the rest of my shift but it went by quickly. I snuck out so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone, and then when I got home I took a long, hot bath. Crawling into bed, I fell asleep almost immediately. In my dreams, I saw Jackson smiling at me. I knew it was a dream because he was looking at me with such tenderness. He’d never looked at me like this in reality; didn't know me well enough to look at me like this in reality. My dream shifted then and I was walking through the rain, holding a bundle of flowers.

  It was dark, and I realized I was walking through a cemetery. The headstones around me faded out until there was only one in front of me. It was to this grave that I was going. I connected the flowers with the cemetery and realized I was here to visit someone. I could feel the pain of missing the person, as if it truly were real. When I arrived at the grave, I leaned down to place the flowers, and when I looked up, I saw the name. Jackson Vance.

  Waking, I sat up quickly and squinted against the harsh sunlight in the room, and heard the knocking. My first thought was that Everett was back, so I ran downstairs and slung the door open, still in my shorts and tank top. Jackson let his eyes flick over my messy hair and wardrobe before giving me a lazy grin.

  “You look lovely,” he said, with an expression that brought an
unexpected giggle out of me.

  “Sorry,” I replied. “I thought you were Everett. Come in.” I held the door open so he could enter and then I pointed at the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

  I ran upstairs, brushing my teeth and hair as I tried not to look in the mirror. I didn’t want to know how bad it had been. Pulling on a pair of khaki shorts and throwing a button-up shirt on over the tank top, I went back downstairs.

  “Ah, there you are, Slayer. A crazy lady let me in your house,” Jackson laughed.

  “Shut up,” I chuckled. “So, what’s going on?”

  “What are you doing today?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Well, I know how well you liked The Drop, and so I wanted to show you something,” Jackson said, running a hand through his hair.

  “Is it another ride?” I asked, hearing the faint thread of excitement in my own voice.

  “Something like that,” he chuckled.

  “I don’t know, Jackson,” I said, remembering my vow. No more Jackson Vance. I shivered because an image of the headstone in my dream popped up in my mind. “Paula didn’t seem too happy about the whole Drop thing. I don’t want to cause problems.”

  Jackson stood. “Paula and I used to date…sort of. I ended it, and I don’t think she was too happy about it. But she’s not my girlfriend, and I don’t answer to her. As far as I know, you don’t either.”

  “No,” I chuckled. “Jenny and Erika told me about you…er, about Paula and you, I mean. But that’s not the whole reason. I just…my life is really complicated right now,” I ended lamely, shrugging.

  Jackson smiled. “Since when is an assassin’s life not complicated?” He moved forward a few steps and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Look, I don’t know what it is about you, but I like you. You’re like a puzzle that I can’t quite put together yet. I just want a chance to get to know you, and that’s all I’m asking for, okay?”

  I tugged at the hem of my shirt and tried to think, but it was pretty difficult with him looking at me that way.

  “Did I mention that this particular ride goes pretty fast?” He grinned. Ah what the hell? I smiled and shoved my phone into my pocket, then followed him out the door. When we were in his jeep, I talked to avoid that weird silence. I asked about his music, his family, anything I could think of to keep him talking.

  “So do you have other family nearby?” I asked, watching his hands move easily over the steering wheel.

  “Nope. No one other than my mother,” he replied. “What about you?”

  I shook my head. “I wonder what it was like growing up as an only child,” I mused out loud.

  “For the most part, quiet,” he chuckled. “But hey, you’re the puzzle, not me. What was it like being in an orphanage? And you said your aunt took you to another kind of home. What was that like?”

  I rubbed my hands on my shorts and looked out the windshield. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember the orphanage too well. I didn’t talk to the other kids and the adults were very busy. As for my other home, it’s always noisy. There are six others – you met Everett – and there’s always something going on. It’s kind of hard to think, but I like it.” I smiled.

  “So I guess it’s really weird being in that huge house all by yourself?” He asked. “What are you doing here anyway?” He smiled and glanced at me. “Not that I’m not happy you are.”

  I panicked. What was I doing here? “You ask too many questions,” I laughed, trying to dodge his inquiry.

  “Sorry. I told you I was curious.”

  An amused smile flitted about his lips and I was desperately wondering what he was thinking. I didn’t know Staves well enough to know where we were going, but a few minutes later, the buildings had all but disappeared. We pulled down a tree-lined street and drove for a few more miles. When we pulled into a driveway, I looked around.

  The land was hilly and dotted with trees. Around a small curve in the driveway was an adorable little cottage, shaded by massive oaks and pines. Behind the cottage was a thick patch of woods, spreading out to the right and left. Jackson parked the jeep and looked at me. He sat there for a few moments, and then he smiled and got out. When he opened the passenger door, I spoke.

  “Where are we?”

  “This is my house,” he replied.

  I let my eyes flick over the house again and then I looked up at him.

  “Relax,” he said. “The thing I want to show you is outside.” I thought it was curious how he had anticipated my anxiety about being at his house.

  He put his hand out to help me out of the jeep and taking it was a mistake. The tingling flew into me like arrows, but it wasn’t painful.

  I inhaled. The air was fresh and sweet – it felt like we were in a different town. It wasn’t even like Staves anymore. He smiled at me and turned, leading me through the lush grass and toward the back of his house. When we were out back, he turned and smiled brilliantly at me.

  “This is it,” he said, pointing to a mass of something under an olive green tarp.

  “Well, that is pretty exciting,” I said, smiling sarcastically.

  He rolled his eyes, laughing, and with a quick movement, he snatched the tarp from the machine. I felt my eyes get wide.

  “What is it?” I breathed.

  “It’s a four-wheeler, Olivia. I swear. You’re so deprived,” he laughed.

  “And it goes fast?” I asked, walking closer to it.

  “It goes fast, but you might want to put your cell phone in the jeep. Also, you might not be able to save those clothes. It’s kind of muddy back there,” he gestured to the woods.

  I looked at him only a second and then I was running to the jeep. Tossing my phone, keys, and the little money that was in my pocket on the front seat, I ran back. When I got back and stood exactly where I’d been a few moments ago, he threw his head back and laughed at me.

  Then, he swung one leg over the four-wheeler, sitting, and put his hands on the grips.

  “Are you going to get on?” he asked.

  “Where?” I said.

  “Behind me,” he rolled his eyes at me, still chuckling. I swung my own leg over the four-wheeler, but my legs were shorter than his so I had to hop a few times to get on the seat.

  “Put your arms around me,” he said. I wished I could see his face just then; see the expression that was on his face. “You have to hang on,” he explained.

  “Okay,” I breathed, scooting a little closer to him. I put my arms around his waist, and the moment my skin brushed his shirt, the tingling began. He tensed and I nearly let go, but didn’t. A second later, the engine was roaring to life.

  We lurched forward and my arms automatically tightened around him. He pulled through a small opening in the woods and I could see that we were following a path. He sped up, bringing a peal of laughter from my lips. The wind in my face was incredible—but not as thrilling as the speed of the trees passing by us. We flew over the trail and hills, and soon the forest opened up into a clearing.

  Jackson pulled the four-wheeler to the side so I could look. It was like one gigantic mud puddle with several areas of land sticking up through it. I realized what he was about to do, and my mouth dropped open. He chuckled, looking over his shoulder at me.

  “You ready?”

  “I was ready five seconds ago,” I said, and almost before I finished what I was saying, the four-wheeler lurched forward again and my arms tightened against his waist. I was distracted as the tires of the four-wheeler splashed through the first of the mud.

  He turned the tires suddenly, spinning us the other way and I screamed and laughed out loud. Mud and water was flying up and landing directly on us. He expertly maneuvered the four-wheeler through the mud, making us slide this way and that. I laughed as the mud flew all over both of us. It was so…liberating to feel the cool wind in my face and let the mud splash into my hair, on my skin and everywhere else. I didn’t care if I was getting dirty. I wanted to get dirty.


  When we passed through a particularly large puddle and muddy water cascaded over us, I laughed out loud, squealing in delight. Jackson shook his head and laughed at me, but took me back through it several times. We played like this for a long time. Sometimes Jackson would drive through the woods really fast before coming back and hitting the mud again.

  Finally, when he pulled up behind his house again, I was disappointed. I could have stayed on the four-wheeler forever and been happy.

  “That was fun!” I said, smiling through the mud caked on my face. Jackson was absolutely covered in it. It was stuck in big globs in his copper hair, streaked across his clothing, and smeared against his tan skin. He even had a patch of mud on his cheek, which I stood to wipe off quickly. However, when my fingers touched his skin, they only smeared more mud onto him, making a bigger mess across his cheek.

  Suddenly, hysteria built in me and I was laughing. He chuckled, looking at me for a moment like I might be insane, and then he started laughing too. I pointed my finger, trying to choke out the reason for my laughter, but I couldn’t stop laughing or breathe long enough to make words. After a few moments, I was able to compose myself, still chuckling.

  “You had a--” My words trailed off as I looked at him. He was gazing at me, and I felt that weird flip-flop in my stomach again. My throat felt tight, too. I had to look away to gather my thoughts. When I found my breath, I looked at him again, but he turned and twisted a faucet that was connected to a water hose.

  “What are you doing?” I said.

  “Well we can’t exactly stay muddy,” he replied, his eyes twinkling.

  I laughed. “Oh no,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet, but you don’t want to meet him like that,” he said.

  “Who?” I breathed, glancing at the house.

  “You’ll see. He’s waiting for us inside.”

  My face turned pink under the smears of mud and I was embarrassed to think that someone might have seen us. I took off the mud-soaked, collared, button-up shirt I had been wearing and stood in my tank top and shorts, waiting for him to spray me. The water was freezing cold and I screamed as soon as it hit me. In a way it was like the The Drop or the four-wheeler. It brought my attention to the outside of my body, where I couldn’t focus so much on the inside. I screamed each time Jackson hit me with the water, and he would erupt in laughter every single time. I think he sprayed me several unnecessary times just to hear the scream.