Amaretto Flame

by Sammie Spencer

  I felt his lips grow hotter, and he was so all encompassing that for a few heartbeats, I forgot who Olivia Landry was. When he pulled back, I expected to be blinded from all that white light, but instead, I could see him perfectly. He wore the same kind of surprised expression that I imagined was plastered across my face. I wondered if he'd experienced what I had experienced. Neither of us spoke for a while, and then Jackson lifted my arm.

  Looking down at it, I saw that the cut was completely gone; the skin smooth and white as if no wound had ever existed there. I gasped in surprise, and rubbed my fingers over the place where it had been just a few minutes ago.

  “I told you you were blocking me before,” he said, his voice shaky.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear Perry telling me that I was the wrathful face of the Goddess; that I was destruction and death, winter and frost. My eyes flicked from my arm to Jackson's face.

  “You're the summer,” I muttered.

  “The what?” He said, leaning forward.

  “You're healing and life and sunlight and summer,” I rambled. “You're like...the opposite of what I am and I could see it. It was beautiful.” I bit my lips in an effort to shut up because I was already embarrassed at what was coming out of my mouth. I sounded like some bad version of a Hallmark movie. I couldn't help it, though. I was still reeling from the kiss.

  Instead of rolling his eyes at me like I might have done if I were in his position, he just pulled me to him and buried his face in my hair. I felt his lips touch my neck tenderly, and stayed still because I didn't want to lose the feeling of his arms around me just then.

  I got regular updates from Eagleton, and unfortunately, Margaret wasn't seeing anything that was useful enough to make a move, yet. Each time I spoke with Ivanna, I'd remind her that it was in the best interest of the coven for her to stay there rather than risking everyone to come here and get me. I told her that it was possible the Venator were baiting them; having attacked me and guessing that my coven would come to my rescue, giving them the perfect opportunity to go after Everett. I even commented that I was no war strategist, but that it never made sense to sacrifice the whole group to save one.

  Everett assured me that he'd alert me the moment anyone decided to leave Eagleton for Staves, and I had to be at peace with that. As days progressed and there was no more activity, it brought a sense of relaxation but also more frustration. We started to grow more assured that we weren't going to get attacked, but I was tired of waiting to see what would happen. The Venator wouldn't let a killing go unavenged, so I knew something was coming. It became harder and harder to stay vigilant every moment of the day, though.

  Usually, after we had spent all day at Jackson's house, we'd go straight from there to work. Jenny and Erika gave me quite a few questioning looks, but I never got the chance to fully explain things to them. That was good, because I wasn't sure what I'd have said. I did hope that they didn't think I was one of those girls that got obsessed with Jackson Vance and couldn't stand the thought of being away from him, though. I allowed myself to ponder that more than once.

  I'd even let myself go so far as to think that perhaps I was growing a real friendship, of sorts, with Jackson. Once, as the light was just beginning to filter through the curtains at the safe house, I sat on the stairs and watched him sleeping on the sofa. I was trying to see Jackson the way those other girls might have seen him. Sure, he was attractive. Okay, he was painfully attractive, and he was warm and kind.

  He was even funny at times. I could see how he might capture the fondness of any girl. I thought about what it would be like when I went home to Eagleton, and a wave of loneliness washed over me. Just then, Jackson stirred and looked up at me. Without saying a word, he opened his arms and I went into them, curling up on the couch beside him and soaking in his warmth.

  Jenny and Erika weren't the only ones who noticed the new chumminess between Jackson and me at work. I caught more than a few of Paula's glares during the weekend after the Venator attack, and several nasty comments that slid off her tongue with the sweetness of syrup. For the most part, she was easy to ignore. Probably a little too easy, and this was something she wasn't accustomed to.

  Wednesday night - a little more than a week after the Venator attack - Stallott's was fairly quiet. Jenny had finally cornered me in the bathroom and stood there looking at me with a silly grin on her face until I broke and started laughing.

  “What?” I asked, turning from her to smooth dark strands of my hair in the mirror. My gray eyes were dancing; a stormy sky full of lightning, and my cheeks were tinted pink. I watched her reflection approach me, her eyebrows raised and the shimmery eyeshadow glittering in the florescent lighting.

  “You love Jackson Va-ance,” she sang in a funny voice. I spun around to look at her, and made an effort to shut my mouth, which was hanging open.

  “I do not!” I said, unable to stop laughing at the weird way she was looking at me.

  “Yes you do!” She argued, “I can tell. Look at you. Neither of you have been able to stop smiling for weeks. You bitch. I can't believe you haven't given me details.”

  “We're just friends,” I said, looking down at my fingernails.

  Jenny cleared her throat. “Sure. Details later, though, okay? I really don't want to have to kick your ass.”

  I laughed at her, and then said, “Okay. Details later.”

  We both re-entered the bar with Jenny humming the wedding march under her breath. I had just cleared off a table and was getting drinks for another table when Paula walked in. She didn't exactly walk in. She sauntered in, or flowed in, and even I did a double take. She was wearing a skin-tight dress the color of blood, which looked especially lovely with her dark, cropped hair and glossy lips. The fabric of the dress hugged every curve of her body, leaving nothing and everything to the imagination. She moved gracefully to one of the tables right in front of the dance floor - directly in front of Jackson - and crossed her legs elegantly.

  “Oh for the love of flying bats and peanut butter,” Jenny said, rolling her eyes. “I'll take care of this,” she added. Jenny started to walk toward her table and I watched as Paula gave Jackson a devilishly sexy smile before she turned her head toward us.

  “No, no. I'll take Olivia,” Paula said, loudly. “She's most definitely a better server than you, Jenny.”

  Jenny glanced over at me and I shrugged, moving toward the table. Erika watched from the bar with Renee, apparently feeling the same sort of tension I was experiencing. Well, maybe not quite as much.

  Jenny smiled at Paula. “Sure, Paula. Oh hey. Love that dress. I think I have the same one at home. Is it Designs by Desperation?”

  Erika giggled over by the bar, and I caught a small smile on Jackson's lips, making it impossible to keep from smiling myself. For a split second I was part of something I'd never been part of before, although in the back of my mind I felt a little sorry that it was at Paula's expense, despite the many times she'd been nasty to me.

  “That's funny Jenny,” Paula oozed. “I guess you'd probably know that brand well.”

  I moved over to Paula quickly, hoping to rescue Jenny, since I knew that I was the one she really wanted to mess with. “What can I get you, Paula?”

  “Oh, let's see, Olivia...I think I'll take a Sex on the Beach,” she purred, smiling at me full-wattage.

  I nodded and went to the bar with her order. Renee's eyes were narrowed as she handed me the drink.

  “Just remember,” she said quietly. “She wore that for you and not for him.” She winked at me and I smiled brightly, shrugging.

  I took the drink to Paula's table, and turned to go, but she interrupted me.

  “Have a seat, Olivia.” She paused, and then added, “Can you reach the bar stool?”

  Maybe it was one too many short jokes, or maybe the bitch in me had gotten tired of being stuffed down. Either way, I replied, “Paula, why don't you just cut the shit? I know you have a problem with me and I don't c
are. Now what do you want?”

  “Ew. Feisty,” she said, laughing. “I just wanted to have some girl talk. I heard you and Jackson were dating.” She glanced back to the stage and I noticed that Jackson had stopped playing the guitar and had his eyes on us. No doubt he could hear everything that was being said.

  “We're not dating. We're just friends,” I said. “The last time I checked, I wasn't supposed to approve either with you first.”

  “Oh you're not, honey. I just wanted to warn you about Jackson. The second he gets a taste of...well, whatever it is you're offering, you'll be old news.” She gave me a look that said she couldn't understand what his attraction was in the first place.

  “Although, it might be to your benefit. Have you ever had ice cubes rubbed over every inch of your body?” She took a long sip of the drink and smiled at me. “Of course you haven't. I have. It's fantastic.” She looked at Jackson and beamed.

  “Stop it, Paula,” Jackson hissed from the stage. I was feeling a little dizzy from the visual she'd given me, but I shook it off and smiled back at her.

  “I'm not offering anything,” I said, feeling the red haze descending but forcing it back. “Jackson has been a really good friend to me, that's all.”

  Paula glared at me for a few heartbeats, and then said, “Yeah. I couldn't see how he'd want you for anything more than that. Even your own mother didn't want you.”

  I froze.

  “Isn't that true, Jackson?” Paula glanced toward him again. “Did she really try to kill you?” Paula gave me a look full of false sympathy. “Show us the scars, Olivia. Go ahead.”

  There were no sounds in the bar other than Paula's quiet laughter. A moment or two passed before realization hit me with a crushing weight.

  “You bitch,” I heard Jackson say from the direction of the stage. His voice was full of loathing, and as I turned to look at him, I saw that his face was a mask of anger. Then his eyes fell on me. What I hated most was that he was devastatingly gorgeous just then. I realized that I'd been mistaken all along. My acceptance didn't have anything to do with humans and Wise Ones. I hadn't been shunned because I was part of another kind. I had been shunned because I was me.

  I realized that I'd been staring at him in disbelief, my hand clutched against my chest. As I turned to leave, I heard him say, “Olivia, wait!” I saw the concerned faces of Jenny and Erika as I passed the bar, but I ignored it all, unable to breathe until I was outside of Stallott's in the air.

  Chapter 13

  The wind outside the bar was warm, flying by me in small gusts. The first few rain drops were coming down hard, holding onto the orange glow of the streetlight before splashing it into fragments on the ground. Do not cry! I commanded myself, cursing the painful lump in my throat. Before I could gather myself enough to decide which direction to go in, the door opened behind me and Jackson came out.

  I shot arrows at him with my eyes, turned and started walking out into the parking lot, with no direction as my goal other than 'away.' Heavy rain drops pelted my exposed skin. On a normal day, I would have enjoyed this. On a day when I wasn't trying hard to swallow the jagged little pill of betrayal.

  “Olivia,” Jackson called, jogging to catch up with me. “Please just give me a minute.”

  My feet stayed steady, even with my head spinning, and I kept walking. I couldn't get Paula's sneering face out of my mind as she'd laughed. She'd laughed about the one thing that I still had nightmares about; the one thing that haunted me every day. I wasn't stupid enough to miss the fact that I was broken because of it all, that I'd probably never be whole, and Paula had thought so little of it as to laugh.

  That wasn't what really hurt me, though. What really hurt was that Jackson had thought so little of it as to tell her. They'd probably shared a laugh together over it, maybe even while they were rubbing ice cubes all over each other. I could feel the pressure building within me and I bit down on the inside of my lip to stop it. Jackson put his hand on my arm, and I sidestepped him.

  “Olivia, stop,” he repeated, and this time I did. When I turned to him, water was dripping from my hair and eyelashes, my shirt was plastered to my skin, and I kept telling myself over and over not to scream. He immediately came forward with his arms open, as if to embrace me. I put a hand out to stop him.

  “I have to go, Jackson. You have a bar full of people to play for. Let's say goodbye now,” I said, more calmly than I'd imagined.

  “You don't understand,” he said. His eyes were even warm now, when everything was soaked in gray and black. “I didn't tell her those things. I would never--”

  “Spare me, Jackson, please,” I said. I was disappointed when some real emotion broke through on that last word. “I don't want to talk to you. I have to go.”

  “No, Olivia, I promise. I would never betray your trust like that. I told you your secrets were safe with me and I meant it.” He actually looked as if he were in pain. His eyebrows were drawn together, and water dripped from his copper hair. I allowed myself a long look at him, as I planned for it to be the last.

  “I never want to see your face again,” I said. “I want to forget that I ever met you, Jackson Vance.” I turned and started to walk off, and then I spun back around. “And I'm not evil, just so you know. If you really want to make a difference, find the real evil people. Go hunt the ones who wear the arrows instead of spending your life drinking whiskey in some white trash bar in the middle of nowhere.” I turned and left him standing there, and immediately hated myself.

  I shouldn't have said that about the bar, because the truth is, I loved it. I loved the people, and I thought I'd made friends, and for a little while, I'd been happy there. It didn't matter, though. It was over. Without paying attention to where I'd been going, I was heading back toward the safe house as the rain poured down over me. When I did come out of my own personal darkness long enough to discover where I was, I sat down on the curb, ignoring the puddles since I was already soaked to the bone.

  I buried my head in my hands. Don't cry, I commanded myself again. I wanted to save my tears for a situation more worthy. Feeling so stupid, I choked down the pain for a few moments, and then raised my head to look out at the night. I had to come up with a plan of action; an idea. That's when the cloth came down over my eyes and a sharp pain blossomed in my temple, shooting like a firecracker through my skull. I realized I'd been hit - probably kicked - just before the darkness enveloped me.

  When consciousness came back to me, my heart was beating away in my chest, as if trying to get out. I immediately remembered what had happened, and blinked quickly, trying to take in my surroundings. My head pounded, but I could see that I was inside my house in Staves. My hands were bound behind me and I was sitting on a hard chair; probably one from the kitchen. Wet hair was plastered to the side of my face, and I felt groggy and disconnected. There was a man in front of me on the couch, and another pacing back and forth to my right.

  As my nostrils flared, I noticed that they'd prevented me from using my greatest defense against them by stuffing a gag into my mouth. I immediately wondered whether they knew what they'd done or not. I didn't have much of a chance to assess the situation, because the Venator on the sofa realized I was awake, and he stood.

  “Ah, good morning, Sunshine,” he said, his voice low and menacing. The hairs on the back of my neck stood, and a chill crept it's way down both of my arms. I pulled at the bindings around my wrists, but they held firmly, biting into my flesh.

  “Don't struggle,” the man said. “You'll just make this harder. See, we're here for a reason. We're looking for someone we think you might know, and you're going to help us find him.” The man that had been pacing stopped and turned, watching the other, who spoke again.

  “We want your brother, little girl, and then we'll let you go. Do you understand? We're not going to waste time on a lot of talk. You're going to tell us where he is. If you don't tell us right away, I will do horrible things to you until you want nothing more than to let
the information we need slip.” He paused and sneered at me, as if to let his words sink in, and then he moved forward and brushed my hair out of my face. I cringed at his touch and felt the overwhelming pressure demanding that I scream, but I could not.

  “Will you tell us where he is?” the man demanded. I peered up at him, wishing the hate within me could burst forth in one form or another. If I stayed quiet, would he remove my gag? All I needed was a second; just one second. “I said, will you tell us where he is?” The man's voice became more menacing and he inched forward, putting his face in mine. His eyes were a muddy brown color that held no glint of intelligence but plenty of evil. I waited, expecting him to try a spell or reach forward and remove the gag so I could speak. Instead, with lightning-fast speed, he pulled his hand back and smacked me in the face so hard it left my ears ringing.

  I immediately felt my left nostril fill with blood and the warmth as it dripped out, making it even more difficult for me to breathe.

  “I'm going to ask you one more time,” the man said. “Will you tell us where your brother is?”

  I knew I needed the gag out of my mouth, so I nodded meekly, trying to choke back the fear that was overtaking my need to scream. The man smiled widely, showing crooked teeth. I let my senses stretch out as far as I could, wondering if these two men were the only ones here. I heard the heartbeats of the men closest to me, but picked up the beat of another somewhere close by. Shit! I needed them all in the same room. Still, taking out these two would be better than nothing, as long as I didn't pass out after and remain exposed to the third, who would surely kill me.

  My mind raced to come up with a plan as the man raised his hand to remove the obstruction from my mouth. There had to be some way to get the other person in the same room before I did my thing. The man viciously yanked the gag out of my mouth, and I sucked in air greedily, my head still swimming.