Amaretto Flame (10 page)

“There is balance in everything, Sylvia.
Without balance…well, there wouldn’t be much point, would
there?”

“I don’t understand what balance has to do
with them, Olivia,” she said.

“Well, without balance, we could never gain
the experiences we need. If there were only the good without the
evil, we wouldn’t have a choice, would we? If we could live our
entire lives with only great, wonderful and amazing things
surrounding us, we’d never have the chance to choose the bad
things.” I wondered if I was making any sense at all to her, and
also why I suddenly sounded so much like Ivanna.

“Well that would be just fine with me. We
don’t want to choose the bad things,” she said as if I should
already know this.

“No. You and I don’t want to choose the bad
things. But every soul needs to have that choice. That is what
gives us our free will. There has to be balance. If we are good,
then the Venator are evil. Of course, it’s not really that cut and
dry, but for us, it’s pretty much what it means,” I tried to
explain.

“So how did they begin?” She asked, and I
wondered if she had even registered the more important lesson.

“The legend says that the first Venator was
actually a wise one,” I said, remembering the same lesson being
told to me so many years ago.

“This wise one made the choice to use his
talent and powers for greed rather than good. His brothers and
sisters realized what was happening and tried to stop him. They
tried to remove his power from him. However, he fought them with
everything he had, and many of them died. As he sought other souls
that were conflicted and angry, he built his army against the
brother and sister wise ones that were forever trying to stop him
from proceeding.”

“So it is basically an ancient feud that is
still happening?” she asked.
“In a way. It’s not just a feud, though. The brothers and sisters
who were alive then understood that when they encountered their
brother, they must fight until the death, or until he made a
different choice. Of course, he wasn’t going to make a different
choice, so on both sides, it was a fight for what they desired and
wanted. Now, the hate and evil is so deeply ingrained in the
Venator that it seems impossible for them to make a choice to be
good,” I sighed.

Sylvia took a breath and said, “So there’s no
hope for any of them?”

“Oh no, there’s hope. It just has to come
from a strong will or desire to be good rather than evil. Our main
concern, though, are the naïve talented ones. The children…the
younger ones who are angry because of the powers they have been
given. You and I have felt that way, Sylvia. It’s a good thing
Ivanna found us before someone else did. To be that angry and then
to have more anger fed to you, all wrapped in a false promise of
family and belonging…it is a powerful thing,” I said.

“So that’s why Ivanna gets the younger ones
when she can?” Sylvia asked.

“Yes. If there’s a chance she can save them
from the Venator, she will,” I said.

There was a long pause and Sylvia said, “But
good is always more powerful than evil, right?”

I understood that she wanted assurance. She
wanted to hear me say that in the end, Wise Ones would win. The
good guys always win in the books Sylvia loved, and she was
counting on me to tell her the ending now…to tell her that we would
win, too. How could I give her false hope, though? When I spoke, my
voice sounded grave.

“Good does always trump evil. But there is a
power in greed that even good flinches at sometimes,” I said
quietly.

When I got off the phone with Sylvia, I
wondered if I’d crushed her hopes, but a larger part of me pondered
her question. If the Venator were given a choice – some of them
anyway – if they could look at the bigger picture, would they
choose the right path?

I didn’t have the answer to that question,
but it ate at me until I arrived at Stallott’s, which was just as
busy as the previous night. A pattern was starting to emerge for
me, and as I took off my jacket and put it behind the bar, I
wondered what surprises the night would bring. Jackson was already
singing, and I fought the urge to look over toward the stage. I
hadn’t had time to properly process my feelings from the carnival
yet, and I still felt strange about the creepy shocking thing that
had happened.

Almost immediately, I was sucked into the
busy work of clearing away empty glasses and bottles and replacing
them with fresh ones. I practiced smiling comfortably with the
customers, and it seemed to work. They talked to me as if I were a
normal human; a few of the men were even flirting with me, I think.
When one burly, bearded man asked me what a pretty girl like me was
doing in a place like Stallott’s, I laughed it off, embarrassed,
and looked away.

That’s when my eyes locked with Jenny’s. The
look on her face was dread, or maybe fear, and when her eyes
flicked toward the door, mine followed. A tall, thin man with an
oily grin was approaching her. He slid into a booth beside her and
waited expectantly. I watched as closely as I could while I threw
away a tray full of beer bottles. My attention was stolen, though,
as Rick handed me the tray with two shot glasses full of
whiskey.

“Jackson?” I asked, and received a nod and an
amused smile in response. I raised an eyebrow and marched toward
the stage. When I got there, I already had one of the shot glasses
in my hand. I wanted Jackson to know I wouldn’t be putting up a
fight tonight, and that there was no need to involve
microphones.

When he flipped a button on one of his
machines and looked at me, my smile froze on my face. The grin he
gave me sent my heart racing nervously, and my hand shook a little.
It was almost as odd as the shock, but this time I wasn’t touching
his skin at all. He scooped up the shot glass and I mentally shook
myself. I clinked his glass with mine, but at the very same moment,
my eyes scanned the bar and I saw it.

The man that had sat down near Jenny was now
standing, his hands on her arms. Her back was to me, and he had an
icy grin on his face, but I could see from her body language that
she was scared. Her shoulders were hunched and she was backing away
from him, shaking her head. As I watched, he moved his face closer
to Jenny’s. I must have inadvertently let my stretches sense out so
that I could hear them over the crowded bar. Jenny let out a soft
whimper, and I dropped the tiny glass of whiskey, thrusting the
tray toward Jackson.

“Excuse me,” I said, seeing the surprise on
his face for a split second before he grabbed the tray and I took
off. I was across the dance floor in seconds, and the creep in
front of Jenny didn’t even register my presence until I spoke.

“Hi Jenny,” I said. Both of their heads
swiveled to look at me at the same time, his face full of annoyance
and hers full of relief. “Remember those pointers I was going to
show you? Well, pay attention.”

My foot shot out and connected with the man’s
knee the very next moment, and although I’d taken care not to use
my full strength, I heard the cracking in the joint. Whether it was
audible to only me or to Jenny as well, I didn’t know. The red haze
was already creeping into my field of vision, and I fought to keep
it back. The roar he let out drew the attention of customers from a
few tables nearby, but his hands had dropped from Jenny’s arms and
were now cupping his knee as strangled expletives were forced from
his mouth.

I leaned forward, putting my mouth close to
his ear. “Jenny is not available.”
He straightened up quickly, his face full of seething anger. For a
moment, I thought he would retaliate, but after glaring at me for
what seemed like forever, he turned and limped toward the door.
When I looked back at Jenny, her mouth was open and she was staring
at me incredulously.

“Holy crap, Olivia!” She laughed and then
hugged me. “Thanks.”

Now that the immediate threat was over, I was
embarrassed and glanced around quickly. Shrugging, I smiled at
Jenny.

“It’s no problem,” I said. Walking quickly
toward the stage, I took the tray from a shocked-looking Jackson.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said. Picking up the shot glass, which
was still half-full of whiskey after I had dropped it sloppily a
few moments ago, I downed it and then smiled at him.

I didn’t kick anyone else for the rest of the
night, and was relieved when it was finally time to wipe down the
tables and wash the dishes. I was completely exhausted, and every
muscle in my feet and legs was throbbing. I was in a daze, so I was
caught off guard when Paula spoke as I was grabbing my jacket from
behind the bar.

“So, we should all get together tomorrow and
go to May Days. It’s the last day, you know,” she said, smiling at
Jackson.

“Oh,” Jenny said excitedly. “We went today.
It was so much fun!”

Paula looked at her for a long moment and
then glanced at Jackson with a pouty face. “That’s too bad.
Jackson’s the only person not afraid to ride The Drop with me.” She
gave Jenny and Erika a fake look of horror before laughing.

“Actually, Olivia and Jackson rode it three
times in a row,” Jenny laughed. “You should have seen her face. It
was priceless!”

I slipped my jacket onto my arms, preoccupied
with how easily Jenny could get excited about the silliest
things.

“Is that so?” Paula asked. Her voice was
practically dripping with disgust. When I turned to look at her,
she was glaring at me so hard that if she’d been a Wise One, I
might have been knocked over. “Funny,” she added, “I thought you
had to be at least five feet tall and weigh more than one hundred
pounds soaking wet to be allowed on The Drop.”

Of course, she was exaggerating. I was
five-three, and weighed at least one-twenty. The damage was done,
though. I certainly didn’t need her to point out the fact that she
was all sinful curves and warm beauty. The others were quiet, maybe
shocked that she’d been such a bitch or maybe waiting to hear what
I’d say in return. I felt like a spotlight was shining on me and
all of my inadequacies. A moment later, she smiled as if to say
she’d only been playing.

I’m not proud to admit what I did next. It
was obvious to me – as I buttoned my jacket with shaking fingers –
that I was in Paula’s way in regards to Jackson. Normally, the
challenge in her voice would have brought out the kindred bitch in
me, but she’d done what I was most afraid of. She’d pointed out
that I didn’t belong, and it was a painful scratch in the already
bleeding wound I carried around. Besides, I barely knew Jackson,
and certainly didn’t want to cause trouble. So, I looked up,
chuckled and then smiled at her sheepishly.

“I saw the sign. I think they were too
embarrassed for me to call me out on that height thing.” Glancing
at Jackson and the girls, I smiled and said, “Good night.” Then I
turned toward the door and left.

I was relieved to be outside, and then to be
in the car on the road. Because I was so tired, I allowed myself to
ignore everything. I didn’t analyze what had happened in the bar. I
didn’t think about my own embarrassment, what was happening in
Eagleton, or even the creep I had kicked. I dragged myself out of
the car when I got to the house, went in and locked the door, and
then pulled myself up the stairs and into the bed, where I passed
out almost immediately.

There was absolutely nothing; no dreams, no
hazy memories, nothing. It was already well into the morning when
the sound of my phone woke me. It was the most annoying sound I’d
ever heard, and without opening my eyes, I located it in the little
apron that was still tied around my waist. Flipping it open, I
stuck it to my ear.

“Yes?” I said, groggily, having no idea to
whom I was speaking.
Everett’s voice was full of tension when he spoke. “Olivia,
something has happened. Max was attacked last night.”

“What?” I shot up in bed, the grogginess gone
although I had to squint in the sunshine that was streaming into
the room. My heart was racing as I tried to untangle my legs from
the sheets.

“He’s fine. Everything is okay, but we think
it was the same kind of attacks that happened to the Moss Point
coven members.” Everett spoke quickly and quietly, as if he had
limited time to talk.

He’s fine. Before I could process anything
else, I repeated Everett’s words silently a few times. “What
happened? I don’t understand,” I said. Surely no one had penetrated
Eagleton’s grounds. The illusion Ivanna kept there wouldn’t even
permit regular people to find the entrance, much less get into the
main house.

Even as Everett was explaining the situation,
I was kicking off the uniform and grabbing jeans from the
armoire.

“He’d gone out to get art supplies and
someone attacked him in the parking lot. There were two of them.
They got in a few good hits but they backed off almost as soon as
Max started fighting back. It was dark, and they were wearing black
shirts with hoods. Max doesn’t know who they were. He drove around
all night making sure no one was tailing him.” Everett exhaled
loudly, and then added, “I just felt wrong not telling you what
happened.”

“I’m on my way,” I said. Shoving my feet into
a pair of sneakers instead of the flip flops, I headed straight for
the stairs.

“No!” Everett said, his voice firm. “You
can’t come here.”

I didn’t stop in my tracks, but I definitely
slowed. “What? What do you mean I can’t come there, Everett? You’re
in danger, and I--”

“I mean you can’t,” he interrupted. “Ivanna
forbade it. Sylvia got scared and started begging her to let you
come home but she said no. In fact, she was adamant that we didn’t
even tell you about it but I had to. I know you’re at a safe house,
but there’s a possibility that you could be in danger too. No one
knows where these people are getting their information at; how they
know where to attack.”