Amaretto Flame

by Sammie Spencer

As it started to fade again, I fought to keep my thoughts quiet, but realized it wasn’t helping. It was still fading. I didn’t know how to keep it there, so I only hoped that something even better was coming. I could vaguely remember the white light and how beautiful it had been. Suddenly, and with a force, I knew that I was alive.

  I could feel my own body now. With a startling suddenness, I remembered everything. The singing had been familiar to me because I'd heart it before, numerous times. The voice that was like silk with a frayed edge of roughness. The calm that it brought me. Jackson. He'd been singing to me. I could feel my own heartbeat again, and as my memories came back to me, it picked up in speed. We'd lived. We'd survived the attack from the Venator, because they hadn't realized the depth of my power. They hadn't been prepared for much more than a harmless little girl and a boy with healing power. Boy, did they get surprised.

  We were all going to be okay! I struggled to open my eyes. I wanted to see my family. I was back in the guest bedroom in Claire's house, but the curtains were open, letting bright sunlight filter in. Immediately, I felt that my arms and legs were stiff. I wasn't in pain, but my muscles felt like they'd been locked in position for too long. This was the first sign that I'd been sleeping for a long time. Judging by the daylight, at least all night and well into the day. Also, I had been cleaned up. My hair was soft and brushed out and smelled of jasmine. There was no trace of the blood I'd been covered in when I had lost consciousness, and now that I was looking, I noticed that the wounds had been healed. Jackson had somehow managed to reach through my guards, then.

  The room was filled with wildflowers in every color of the rainbow, stuffed into vases, glasses, and tied in bundles sitting on nearly every surface. Smiling, I sat up on the edge of the bed, stretching my arms and legs. I could hear the voices of my family downstairs, and I allowed myself to enjoy that for a few minutes; to absorb the fact that we had triumphed. Then I quietly made my way down the stairs and through the small hall that led to the kitchen. I stood, just outside the doorway for a moment, listening to the sounds of their chatting; comfortable and safe. Then, I stepped into the kitchen.

  “I sure hope there's food in here. I feel like I've been brought back to life,” I said, smiling and looking around the table. Immediately, chairs were being pushed back and I was being embraced. I laughed and allowed my family to smother me in their affection for a few moments. It was bittersweet, because I noticed with a painful longing that Jackson wasn't there.

  “There's plenty of food,” Claire said, giving me a warm smile. When I sat, she and Charlotte kept handing me various things to eat, and refilling my glass of iced tea. No one said anything about the fight, and I wondered if they thought they should keep quiet about it in front of me. Maybe they thought I was traumatized.

  “Thank you,” I said to Everett, who looked at me in surprise. “I know it was you helping me when the hunter caught me.” He nodded at me, and gave me a sweet smile.

  “Actually,” Sylvia said, “it was all we could do to keep Everett where he was supposed to be. When that hunter got you with the hook, Everett started after you. We tried to restrain him, but he was too adamant. Joshua stepped in, remembering he had Perry's powers. That's the only way we were able to keep him from running to you.”

  Everett didn't look too happy about the fact that he was 'restrained.' I put my hand over his on the table for a moment, and then I looked at the others.

  “Thank all of you, actually.” I wanted to thank Joshua and Perry separately, and then the others, but tears started to well in my eyes, so I blinked furiously to get rid of them and took a deep breath. “Where's Jackson?”

  Claire and Ivanna exchanged glances, and Sylvia pointed toward the back door. “When he wasn't in your room, he was out there,” she said.

  “Olivia,” Ivanna said. “We've got everything ready to return home. I know there probably some things you need to get from the safe house, but I thought we'd leave before nightfall.”

  I nodded. Some things I needed to get. Some things I needed to do. Some goodbyes I needed to say. The room was quiet for a moment, and then Sylvia said, “Unless of course you're staying in Staves.” Something that had probably not even occurred to Ivanna, Charlotte, or Perry...the fact that I could stay in Staves.

  So, this was it, then. This was where I had to make my choice. It had happened far faster than I'd thought. I'd imagined having a few days to explain my decision, to think about things more in-depth. It didn't matter. I thought of Jackson's face. I knew what my decision was, anyway. If I'd had more time to think about it, I would only be thinking of reasons to justify the decision that I'd already made.

  “Nice try, Sylvia,” I said. “But you're not getting my room.” I chuckled at her. “I belong in Eagleton.” Perhaps she was the only one that caught the sadness in my voice when I said it, but it didn't matter anyway. It was true. Eagleton was my home. Sure, I'd miss Erika and Jenny...and Jackson, but I didn't belong here. I looked down at my empty plate and forced myself to be honest, even if it was quietly, and in my own mind.

  I couldn't stay with Jackson. I'd had a taste of how amazing he was, and how wonderful it felt to be with him. I'd also had a taste of the betrayal he was capable of. He didn't really do it, but the possibility was always there. How long would it be before he grew tired of me, just like Paula said? How long before he got sick of keeping my secrets? I'd had enough betrayal; I'd been shunned enough in my life. I could handle all the Venator the Goddess wanted to throw at me, but not that.

  Without meeting their eyes, I stood and walked out the back door. He was sitting on the edge of the well, his guitar in his hands. The music stopped when I closed the door behind me, and I had a moment to admire him before he looked up at me. His hair was as messy as always, golden eyes looking at the strings of the instrument. He was wearing jeans and a black button-up shirt, the collar brushing the tan skin of his neck. I realized I was holding my breath and exhaled slowly. Jackson was right. James Dean wasn't that gorgeous.

  When our eyes met, I was overjoyed to see him, but I hurt at the thought of leaving. Smiling, I walked toward him. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Waiting for you,” he replied, looking up at me. Crimson caught my eye and I was distracted momentarily. The well was covered in bright red stains. It was blood, I realized. My blood. Soaked into the stones, splattered here and there. I even spotted the dark stains on blades of grass nearby.

  “I guess I made a mess,” I said. Then I met his eye again. “Thank you...for healing me. I wasn't conscious but I remember the light; the healing. It felt like it went on forever. You must have had to heal me more than once.”

  “I didn't stop,” he said, looking back down at the guitar. I sat beside him and took his hand in both of mine. It was so warm, and the tingling was stronger than ever.

  “How did you get through the guards?” I asked.

  “You were barely here, Slayer.” His eyes narrowed and he said, “For a while, I thought you might be gone. I fed you my energy until it was gone and then when it built back up, I did it again. Eventually, you grew strong again, but in the beginning, you barely had enough spark in you to hang on to life, much less the guards.”

  “How long was I out?” I asked, looking at the sky as if it might give me the answers.

  “More than two days,” he answered. This gave me a slight jolt of surprise. I had really burned through the energy with those hunters.

  “You sang to me, too,” I said.

  Jackson's mouth turned up into a small smile and he shrugged. “A little.” He moved the guitar from his lap and turned to face me. He looked into my face for several heartbeats as I tried to think of what to say to him.

  “This is the part where you tell me you're leaving now,” Jackson said, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Yes,” I said. He nodded slowly.

  “I guess the real question would be whether you'll be leaving anything behind when you go,” he said, his brows drawing tog
ether over those amaretto eyes. I looked down at his hand in mine; the tanned skin, the fingers that so elegantly brought his music to life, that reacted with my own skin in a way I would have never believed possible.

  “I'll be leaving behind the friends that I made at Stallott's,” I said lamely. “I'll be leaving behind the only place I've ever felt like I fit in, other than Eagleton. Yes. There are things I'll leave behind.”

  “That's not what I'm talking about and you know it,” he said.

  “Eagleton is where I belong, Jackson. I wasn't made for...for this.” I gestured to the space between us. Jackson exhaled loudly and ran his hands through his hair.

  “The least you could do is give me a straight answer,” he said. “Look me in my face and tell me why. Why you're willing to offer up the very blood that is flowing through your veins,” - he inclined his head toward the blood stains on the well - “to keep me safe, but you're not willing to offer up the part of you that I want most; the part that will keep me sane.”

  I owed him this, didn't I? I at least owed him the truth. I raised my face to his. “I can't help it. It's part of who I am. I'd rather take the memories I have of you now and keep them for the rest of my life than attempt...something else and have to live with the memories of you growing tired of me, or you failing me in some way. I know that sounds self-righteous, but it's the way I feel.”

  Jackson looked at me for a moment and then said, “So then you do feel for me.” His face looked pained. “Tell me you love me in the same way that I love you, and maybe that will provide some relief to hang on to when you're not here. Tell me that you will be tortured because you're not with me, and that you'll spend hours trying to think of what you could have done differently. Tell me you'll see my face when you close your eyes at night and that I'll haunt you until morning. Tell me,” he said, his voice louder now. His eyes were flashing, hot and angry.

  “I can't do that,” I whispered. His struggle for control of his emotions was visible only for a moment or two, and then he was composed again, his eyes searching mine for...for something. “I have to pick up some things from the safe house and I want to say goodbye to Jenny and Erika,” I said. “I won't leave without saying goodbye to you too, Jackson.” With that, I stood and walked back toward the house with legs made of rubber and a heart made of lead.

  Everett had already been to the safe house to repair my car and bring it back to Claire's, so that I was able to drive it. Getting in touch with Jenny and Erika wasn't hard, since Jenny had been waiting for my call anyway. I asked them to meet me at the house, and as I drove over with the sun shining on my face, I tried to come up with some lie to explain my strange behavior. They were waiting on the front porch steps, Jenny chewing bubble gum and blowing bright green bubbles every few seconds. I smiled as I got out of the car. I really would miss them.

  As I was gathering up my clothes, I explained to them that I was leaving.

  “Wait, you can't just leave,” Jenny said. “What about us? What about Jackson?” She frowned and then added, “What about my ass-kicking lessons? You never really even showed me anything.”

  A corner of my mouth turned up and I said, “What if I decided I'd just be your personal bodyguard? If you have any more problems, you just let me know. I'll take care of it.” Jenny was quiet for a few moments.

  “Thanks, Olivia,” she finally said. Obviously, this was meant to be a thanks for the offer of being her body guard, but her eyes lingered on me a few moments longer than necessary and I wondered if she knew more than I might have guessed. I smiled at her.

  “No problem,” I answered.

  “But seriously,” Erika said. “What about Jackson? I mean, I thought you two were...” She let her sentence trail off.

  I shook my head. “Jackson's a really great guy,” I said. “But we're just friends.”

  The two of them looked as though they wanted to ask more questions, but they didn't. Erika was too tactful and Jenny probably just couldn't decide which question she wanted to ask first.

  “Promise you'll come and visit us,” Jenny said.

  “I promise. And we'll have amaretto and pineapples all night long,” I laughed. After hugging them and loading my things in the car, I drove back to Claire's house with such a heaviness inside of me that I thought perhaps the effects of the fight were finally catching up with me, and that I might truly be damaged. The group was already saying their goodbyes when I pulled in.

  “Claire, please know that you and Jackson are always welcome in Eagleton. Should you decide that a group would better benefit you, you have my number,” Ivanna said, giving Claire a warm embrace. I didn't see Jackson anywhere, and standing on Claire's porch, I kept watching the door and waiting for him to come out.

  “Thank you,” Claire said. Then she looked pointedly at me. “You should also know that you're always welcome here, Olivia.” I smiled and nodded at her. She paused and then said, “Jackson told me to tell you that he had some thing or another to take care of, but that he was thankful for the help.”

  I stared at her a moment and then swallowed the lump in my throat. He hadn't stayed to say goodbye to me. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes but there was nothing to be done about it now. I simply smiled and said, “Thank you. Please tell Jackson that I'll try to visit soon.” With that, I hugged her, turned away and got back into my car. Ivanna and the others pulled out ahead of me and with a last glance back at Claire's house, I pulled out too...homeward bound.

  Chapter 21

  Fifty-four days. Nearly two months. That's the amount of time that had passed since the Venator attack; since I'd come back home to Eagleton. For the most part, things were back to normal. Margaret, the oracle from the Moss Point coven, had left the day we'd returned. Max still wasn't happy about the fact that he'd been left out, but he understood the reasons. We were back in the rhythm that we'd always been in; lots of training, studying, and of course celebrating nature and our Goddess.

  Nothing had seemed to change much in Eagleton. Ivanna still stalked the newspapers and television for signs of Wise Children that might be in trouble. I was still comforted by the fact that my family was safe and secure. The day still turned to night and the night to day. Nothing was changed except me. The first different thing I did was enlist Max and Everett's help to take Joshua and Sylvia out into the world. Each weekend, we'd do something different. We went to a theater and watched a cheesy horror movie, eating buckets of popcorn and listening to the humans in the theater scream.

  Another time we went to a small carnival a few towns away. I had a particular fondness for the bumper cars. I took them to a museum, and to an ice cream shop. The younger ones didn't care if I was being weird as long as they were enjoying themselves but I could tell that Ivanna and Charlotte wondered why it was important to go traipsing through the state and doing these silly things. I couldn't explain correctly that I wanted Sylvia and Joshua to interact with humans, to have experiences. I didn't want them to feel deprived or stupid the way I had.

  I also resumed my duties in teaching the younger ones, in addition to attending meetings and working side by side with Ivanna. Each day for two hours before lunch, I would work with Joshua and Sylvia. I'd help them practice their magick and work on building stamina for rituals and spells, I would lecture them on things I felt were important. I'd ask them questions and try to make them use their minds and convey the feelings that came naturally to them.

  Sometimes, Everett would join me and he and I would discuss issues in front of them; throwing topics back and forth and debating our view points. Occasionally, we'd go off on different topics or argue to the point that nothing was serious anymore and we were both doubled over with our own laughter. These were my favorite times; times when I felt more like my old self. When things weren't as real, as complicated, and when choices weren't much more than whether to have pancakes or waffles or wear sneakers or flip-flops.

  For the most part, I tried my best to stay busy...but there were times wh
en images or memories would catch me unaware. Times when my mind would drift. This mostly happened when everyone else was occupied and I was alone. During the hot August evenings I'd walk out to the lake and get in the boat, paddling myself to the very center of the dark water. I'd lie back in the boat and raise my arms, conjuring my own personal, contained storm. As thick rain drops splashed over my skin and hair, I'd feel jealous that the clouds had the relief of weeping; the relief I never allowed myself.

  These were the days I let myself remember. Closing my eyes, I'd see his face as clearly as if he were in the boat next to me. I'd catch the scent of the pine trees in the forest behind his house and remember mornings spent walking hand in hand for hours. I'd hear his voice singing one of his favorite songs. Sometimes, I was even brave enough to allow myself the memory of the day I left. The demand in his voice when he asked what I'd be leaving behind. I'd pull open the ever-sealed envelope in my mind that contained the most important words he'd ever said to me.

  Tell me you love me in the same way that I love you.

  I did this so often that the conjuring became involuntary; almost like breathing or blinking. The moment my bare feet touched the water at the edge of the lake, dark clouds began rolling in toward the center of the water. Rain drops created ripples upon ripples before I'd ever even reached my usual spot. One day, just as I reached the lake, and the rain began pouring, I felt as if I was being watched. I turned quickly and looked back toward the house. Stretching out my senses to see better, I spotted Everett in the library window, gazing out at me with a sadness I'd never seen on his face before.

  I lowered my eyes in shame; embarrassed at being caught in my pathetic ritual. Had he been standing there, I might have muttered something about practicing elemental magick, but he would have known I was lying anyway, so there really wasn't much point. Knowing that I was worrying him, I stopped going to the lake for a few days, but I didn't have the strength to stay away long. Within a week, I was back to my normal evening ritual.