Amaretto Flame (19 page)

“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 care. 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.

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.

“Where is he?” The man asked again, and then
added, “and don't even think about trying magick on us. I'll knock
you out cold before your spell has even started.” I glared up at
him, realizing he had no idea what my power was. That was good. He
was looking for Everett, but was totally unaware of the kind of
power he'd kidnapped. It was taking a huge amount of energy to keep
from screaming now that I had the opportunity. The power was
building within me like a storm. I managed to choke it back long
enough to ask a question. My voice came out raspy and low.

“What do you want with my brother?” There was
no way I was letting these goons know anything about Eagleton or
Everett. I'd already decided that I would die first, or they
would...whichever the Goddess saw as the most beneficial. In answer
to my question, the man in front of me pulled his hand back again
and punched me in the stomach. The breath left my lungs in a
woosh
and I struggled again at my bindings.

“You're not asking the questions, little
girl,” he said. “Your brother has an outstanding debt to pay, and
we're going to collect it.” An outstanding debt? I couldn't begin
to imagine what he might be talking about, but I thought that if I
could keep him talking, the third man might eventually wander into
the room so that I could take all three of them out. I hoped he'd
hurry, because my energy was draining quickly.

“My brother has nothing to do with you. He's
done nothing wrong, and he doesn't owe you anything,” I spat at
him. The second man, who'd been standing idly and watching the
action, stepped forward and smiled an oily smile at me.

“Your skin would look fantastic on a plaque
in my room,” he grunted, running his fingers through my hair. “But
I bet we could have some fun before we end you. You look cold. I
bet it would be pretty easy to warm you up.” He let his fingers
trace over my cheek and touch my lip. I should have probably been
scared, but more than anything, I was angry.

“I'll take care of that when I kill you,” I
replied coldly. “Watching your people die always makes me feel warm
inside.” Both men stared at me for a fraction of a second before
the one that had been talking to me threw his head back and
laughed.

“
You're
going to kill
me
?” He
managed, between guffaws. “That's good. Unfortunately, there are
two of us and only one of you. And you seem to be a little
restricted at the moment.” While he was speaking, the other man
pulled a long, evil-looking knife from a strap on his leg. The
handle was as long as my forearm, and the blade was serrated and
gleaming. A small ball of panic bloomed in my stomach at the sight
of it. Wait. Two. He'd said there were two of them. What about the
third heartbeat?