Amaretto Flame (18 page)

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. Sometimes, 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.

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?”