At around midnight, something did take my mind off my troubles for a little while. I was taking an order to the bar from a table of six when I saw the pervert walk in; the man I'd kicked for Jenny. I thought about intercepting him right away and telling him to leave, but Renee shoved the tray full of drinks into my hands as I watched him. Keeping a close eye on him, I took the customers their drinks and brought the tray back to the bar. I saw when he caught Jenny's eye, and instead of walking over to him, she turned and immediately walked to the bathroom.
Since there weren't that many customers, I decided Erika could handle it for a moment, and I followed her inside. I found her standing over the sink with her eyes squeezed shut, her hands trembling.
“Jenny?” I said quietly, embarrassed for having intruded upon her. She opened her eyes quickly and scrubbed her hands over her cheeks, giving me a fake smile.
“Hey Olivia. I'm okay,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Are you sure? I saw him come in. I can go talk to him if you want--”
“No!” She said quickly, and then lowered her voice. “No, Olivia. I have to deal with him now.”
I stood there looking at her, unsure of what to say next. That's when she really broke down and tears started to slide down her cheeks.
“Oh my god. I'm so embarrassed, Olivia. I shouldn't tell you this but I know you won't tell anyone else.” She walked over to me quickly and grabbed my hand, as if she needed something stable to hold on to. “That man is someone my father owes money to. My dad...he gambles, you know? He owes that guy a lot of money. One day when he came to collect, he saw me at home, and he told my dad what a beautiful girl I am.” Jenny closed her eyes again and more tears escaped. I started to get a sick feeling in my stomach.
“I don't know how it happened, but the next day, my dad was telling me that if he came into the bar, I was supposed to be real nice to him. Dad kept bringing up my college tuition and saying that if I wanted to continue my education and I didn't want anything to happen to him, that I would have to be really, really nice to this guy.” Jenny took a deep, shaky breath and then looked at me. “After what you did the other day, the guy came back to my house. He told my father what happened and threatened him. My dad told me that if I didn't 'get with the program' and do what I was supposed to do, that he would kick me out and I'd have nowhere to go.”
I could feel the red haze threatening to descend over my vision now, and worked to keep it at bay. “Jenny, what is it that your father wants you to do?” I barely managed to get the words out, but as soon as I did, she began sobbing. My stomach was definitely turning now, and as I bit the inside of my lip to keep from cursing, I put my arms around her comfortingly. She didn't need to answer me; I understood.
“What if the man got his money back?” I asked. Money was something that I could get plenty of, and if it could make Jenny's problem go away...
“That's just it,” Jenny replied. “I think my father would run up another debt. He can't seem to stop. And now that this guy has taken a liking to me...” Jenny trailed off, a desperate look on her face. “I could go stay with Erika, but I have a little sister at home.”
I bit my lip harder, anger taking over my every thought. I couldn't stand seeing Jenny's snarky and humorous self being replaced by this terrified, betrayed girl. I'd been wrong. Wise Ones certainly weren't the only ones to suffer at the hands of their families. Jenny was a grown adult and she was still being victimized by someone who was supposed to love her. I brushed her hair out of her face and smiled reassuringly.
“Jenny, if you can get through tonight, I promise you I'll help you find a way out of this, okay?” My voice was deep; full of anger. I made a conscious effort to control it. “I can help you.”
Jenny nodded, smiling at me. “Thanks, Olivia.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Don't tell anyone you saw me crying in here. It would ruin my bad-ass reputation.” She raised an eyebrow at me and I couldn't help smiling at her.
For the next few hours, I kept my senses stretched out and my attention focused half on my customers and the rest on Jenny. I did notice Jackson's singing, which I'd grown rather fond of. Still, I was on alert the moment Jenny's 'friend' got up to leave. He'd had several drinks, and was moving rather slowly. I gave a quick glance around to make sure no one noticed, and then I slipped out the back door toward the dumpster where we normally took the trash. In half a minute, I'd circled around to the front of the parking lot, and was waiting as the man exited the front door.
Even as I was walking toward him, I heard Perry's warning somewhere in the back of my mind. “And ye harm none, do what ye will.” I clenched my jaw against the sound of my conscience, and remembered the desperate look on Jenny's face.
“Hey there, handsome,” I said lightly as I reached the man. His face registered his surprise a moment later, and the corners of his mouth turned down in a scowl. He didn't have time to react much more before I'd grabbed him and pulled him around the side of the building. He was a lot taller than me, so I couldn't clamp my hand over his mouth the way I'd wanted to, but he was so startled that he didn't let out much more than a few surprised grunts.
It was easy enough to overpower him and bring him to the ground. The strength that he had was riddled with the alcohol, and adrenaline was speeding through my veins, empowering me. He started to mumble, and I put a finger to my mouth, signaling for him to be quiet. With him sitting against the brick of the building, I leaned back and extended my arms. The still night around us turned windy, leaves and debris stirring slightly, and then moving quicker until I'd whipped up a windstorm. All around us it blew and his eyes danced with fear as he watched me.
I let my lips pull back over my teeth in a sneer and then I dropped my hands. Gravel, leaves, dust; all were stationery and suspended in the air for a moment in time, before dropping to the ground. The man's eyes were as round as dinner plates and I leaned forward slowly. He tried to back away from me, but there was nowhere for him to go. I put my lips close to his ear.
“Listen carefully. If you go anywhere near Jenny or her father again, I will find you. No matter where you are, I can find you, and I will hurt you. I will hurt you in ways that you have never imagined; until you are begging to be released from this life. Do you understand me?”
I backed up slowly, my smile still pasted on my face, riding an incredible high from the use of magick. The man was nodding vigorously, his hands out as if to defend himself.
“Good,” I said, and then I stood and disappeared into the shadows, running back around the building and slipping back inside the door. Inside Stallott's, it was business as usual, and I immediately approached a table of my customers just as they were finishing up their drinks. As I went for refills, I noticed Jackson's eyes on me questioningly.
Chapter 12
I'm not exactly sure how Jackson Vance became my housemate, but I do know that it wasn't entirely without protests on my part. It started with a ride home from work, since my vehicle was still disabled in front of the safe house. Even though I suspected he was at least partially aware that I'd done something to that man, he never mentioned it. He drove me home in near silence, and when I thought he was walking me to the door, he was actually preparing to stay the night.
“I can't leave you on your own,” he'd said. “We're in this together, now.” He raised a corner of his mouth and let those eyes drill into me. “Besides, there's a lot we need to talk about, remember?”
“I can't put you in danger like this,” I whispered, arguing with him on the front porch. He just shook his head, refusing to hear me.
“Look, there are two things for certain. One, you're safer with me here, and two, standing here arguing isn't achieving your goal of seeming normal,” he said.
Glancing around, I sighed. “Come in.”
I took a few quilts and pillows from the linen closet and tossed them on the sofa, kicking my shoes off at the same time. “I don't think my feet will ever get used to this,” I sa
id, feeling the dull ache in my heels. Jackson sank down on the sofa and patted the seat next to him.
When I sat, he pulled my leg onto his lap and began massaging my foot with his warm hands. The contact was too intimate for me at the moment, and I'd planned on snatching my foot back and saying something biting...but man, it felt really good. When he ran his thumb down the arch in my foot, I shivered, earning a small chuckle from him.
“So, tell me what you're doing here. If your family is somewhere else, what on earth brought you to Staves?” He asked.
I thought about Ivanna and the coven, a wave of embarrassment running through me. I wasn't sure if I should tell Jackson anything, but a bigger part of me wanted to open up; to have someone to share with. Knowing he was a Wise One made it easier to trust him.
“I was punished. I messed up and...well, Staves is kind of like my own personal prison,” I replied.
“Wow. You must have done something really bad, Slayer. What'd you do? Kill someone?” The corner of Jackson's mouth turned up.
“Hardly,” I said, bitter again at the injustice of my punishment. “What about you? It's just you and your mother? That's almost...unheard of among us.” I was very curious about Jackson and why he wasn't part of a coven. It's true that there were solitary Wise Ones, but they were a minority.
“Yes. We were part of a group when I was a child, but my mother decided it wasn't in our best interest,” he replied, taking my other foot in his hands. I held back a sigh of pleasure when his fingers began moving across that one. The strange tingling enhanced the relaxing effect his hands were having on me.
“What are the chances I'd be sent to a town with...others like me,” I mused, my eyelids growing heavy.
“Were your parents like you too?” He asked. His words were soft, but the subject matter was enough to make me tense up.
I sat, tucking my feet under me. “No. Well, yes. My father was, but my biological mother is a normal human,” I replied. I could hear the stiffness in my voice.
“Is that why she...” He trailed off, but I knew what he meant.
“I guess that's part of the reason,” I said, skirting the truth. My mother tried to kill me because I killed my father, I wanted to say. I felt like telling him all of it; watching his reaction to me, to who I really am. I didn't have the guts, though. “So, I'm super-tired. Let's finish catching up tomorrow,” I added, moving to stand up.
To my surprise, Jackson leaned forward and put a hand on my cheek. “I can't imagine anyone not wanting you,” he said softly. “Goodnight Olivia.”
I ignored the tears that welled in my eyes as I whispered goodnight and went upstairs.
Whether I actually felt safer with Jackson in the house, or I was still completely drained, something made me sleep like a dead person that night. I don't recall any dreams or interruptions, but when I woke to another gray day loaded with the possibility of rain, one thing was on my mind. How had Jackson healed me? We'd gone through countless experiments in Eagleton, and people had tried to use magick on me numerous times. When Everett was little and first came to us, he'd tried to talk to me in his mind rather than out loud, but had never succeeded.
In fact, that was probably the only reason he ever said that first word out loud at all. The Venator in the alleyway had tried to cast spells on me unsuccessfully, and Charlotte had tried to heal me dozens of times over the years. Even Ivanna expressed frustration that none of her illusions could fool me. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to understand exactly what was happening. I contemplated it through a hot shower and as I dressed and brushed out the long strands of my hair. I walked down the stairs noiselessly, and was disappointed to find Jackson up, scribbling into a notebook. Part of me had wanted to see what he looked like, peaceful and sleeping.
“Good morning,” he said, grinning up at me.
“Hi,” I replied. “What are you doing?”
Jackson shrugged. “Just writing down some thoughts. It helps to clear my head sometimes.”
“Oh.” I hesitated a moment, and Jackson put the notebook down. How was it that he looked just as fantastic in slept-in clothes as he had in fresh ones?
“Something wrong?” He asked.
“No,” I said, sitting in the armchair and looking at him. “I'm just wondering how you were able to heal me the other night.”
“Just like I'm wondering how you disintegrated those two guys,” Jackson said.
“No, you don't understand,” I said. “Magick doesn't work on me. It never has. My coven-sister, Charlotte, she's a healer too - although she's not as talented as you - and she's never been able to heal me.”
“Really?” Jackson sat up now, interested.
“Yeah. Weird, right? So, I was kind of wondering if you'd do it again...you know, on a smaller scale.” I smiled at him, hoping I was being charming.
“What did you have in mind?”
I got up and retrieved a knife from the kitchen, sitting back down quickly.
“Uh...Olivia, I'm not so sure that's a good idea,” Jackson said, glancing from the knife to me.
“Oh, relax. I'm just going to scratch myself...just a little,” I said. Jackson watched nervously as I drew the blade across my skin. I'd watched movies where this was rather easy, but apparently, that was all false. It took a few attempts before I was able to get a little blood flowing, and by the time I was done, I felt a little nauseous. Anyway, I'd accomplished what I wanted to, and I held my arm out to Jackson.
“You're crazy,” he said, shaking his head, but he still took my arm in his hands. I anticipated the tingling before he ever touched me; the sweet pulsing that it typically brought. I wasn't disappointed. I watched his face and stayed quiet so that I could fully experience what he was going to do. It was one of the strangest things I'd ever felt. A current of peace ran through me, and I could feel his hands growing warm and then hot on my skin. I tore my eyes from his face to look at the small stripe of blood on my forearm, waiting for it to disappear. Moments passed, but nothing happened.
“Slayer, if you want me to heal you, you have to stop blocking me,” Jackson mumbled, his face still the picture of concentration.
“Blocking you? I'm not blocking you,” I said, still watching his face.
He pulled his brows together and I felt his hands grow even warmer. “Yes you are. I can feel it. It's like a wall standing right in my way. Relax.”
I made an effort to relax my body, take a deep breath, and watched as he continued trying. After a few moments, Jackson moved his hands and looked at me. “You're definitely blocking me. It feels very different from the other night.”
I just looked at him, not knowing what to say. I couldn't possibly have been blocking him since I didn't even know what that meant. I'd never heard of anyone being able to block magick. I thought that he might have failed in his attempt, but decided not to push it.
“That's okay,” I said. “Maybe we can try again later.”
And we did. In fact, for the next few days, Jackson and I developed a routine. In the mornings, we'd go to his house so he could shower, change, and feed Zeus. Sometimes we'd go for a ride on the four-wheeler, which was my favorite time of the day. We tried unsuccessfully several more times for him to heal my scratch. Ignoring his discomfort, I even made the cut bigger.
“It might not be serious enough for you to be able to heal,” I explained, shrugging.
“Would you like me to cut your head off and then try?” Jackson joked, bringing a laugh out of me.
“Actually, I think you're supposed to burn witches at the stake,” I said, raising an eyebrow at him.
Still, even with more blood flowing from the cut, he was unable to heal it and kept talking about me blocking him.
He took me hiking in the woods behind his house and pointed out a million different things I'd never noticed in the woods in Eagleton. Spiders that looked like tiny crabs with spiny backs, how deer tracks looked in the soft mud, and different kinds of wild-blooming flowers. Somet
imes, I would become immersed in something; the iridescent wing of a dragonfly or the way the light hit a patch of water, and when I looked up, I'd catch Jackson gazing at me in a strange way.
During one such time, I'd been breathing in a patch of wild honeysuckle just off the path we were on, and when I turned to him, the look on his face made my breath catch. Suddenly, he was there, his face just inches away from my own.
“Olivia.” The whisper was just loud enough for me to catch, and his brows pulled together over those golden eyes as if he were in pain. “Sometimes I think you came here...for me.”
It was a long moment before I could answer, and when I did, I was whispering too. “Why?” Instead of explaining, he kissed me.
A fire existed in the kiss that hadn't been there before; a fire that was both frightening and thrilling, and that sent my arms around his neck as I kissed him back. A million things could have been going through my mind just then. The fact that he was five years older than me, the fact that I was leaving, the fact that I didn't completely trust him and didn't need to form any bonds outside of Eagleton. Instead, all I could think about was Jackson; the way his hair was soft and silky under my hands, the clean scent of his cologne, the warmth of his skin, the way he pulled me to him so that my feet were barely touching the ground.
The tingling was more than just a low pulsing now; it seemed to be covered in white light and probing at various points all over my body. It was almost a reflex when I began to let my senses stretch out, just to see how this would feel if it were magnified by a hundred...a thousand. It's difficult to explain what happened then, except to say that when my senses were at full throttle, Jackson Vance invaded my entire mind. It was like sunlight spilling through a crack in a wall with such force that the wall shattered to pieces. It was golden, warm, bright, and beautiful - everything that I'd never considered myself.
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