Amaretto Flame (5 page)

“It’s this carnival that comes to town every
year,” Jenny explained. “They’ve got rides and tons of food. It’s
fun.”

“Oh. I’ve never been to a carnival,” I said
thoughtfully.

“Are you serious?” Jackson raised an
eyebrow.

“Well then you kind of have to go, don’t
you?” Erika asked. “I mean, what if you died suddenly without ever
having gone to a carnival? That would be really sad.” She put on a
false serious face and wiped a non-existent tear.

“Yeah, come with us. It’ll be fun,” Jenny
said. I felt like I should probably have shaken my head and said no
thanks. I mean, it was okay to interact with humans, but at what
point would they see me for the fraud I really was? Still, Jenny’s
look was so innocent and pleading…as if she truly wanted to enjoy
my company. Strangely, I found that look to be crippling.

“Okay,” I smiled. “I guess I can’t die
without having gone.”

“Yay,” Jenny grinned. “I’ll pick you up at
your house on Saturday afternoon. Where do you live?”

“She’s in the old Whitfield place,” Jackson
said. Jenny’s eyes turned into giant saucers.

“Wow. That place is huge,” she said.

Feeling uncomfortable, I shrugged. “It’s my
aunt’s.”

“So you’re loaded then, huh?” Jenny asked,
and Erika gave her a playful shove.

“Sheesh, Jenny,” she said. “Tactful.”

I chuckled. “I’m going home. My feet feel
like they’ve been dipped in hot oil,” I joked.

“You’ll get used to that,” Erika replied.
“Wait. Are you walking?” She gave me a look that said I was
demented.

“Oh. Yeah, I like walking. No big deal. Good
night…er, morning,” I said, smiling.

I walked toward the door, and I’d only made
it a few feet when I heard them whispering. Before I even realized
what I was doing, I allowed my senses to stretch out just enough to
hear what they were saying.

“It’s pitch black outside. She shouldn’t be
walking home,” Erika said. I softened towards her when I realized
she was concerned about my safety. If she only knew that
I
was the kind of thing people were scared of in the dark.

“She could get mauled to death in the dark
and the police will find her in the morning and then we’ll all have
to pull double shifts,” Jenny whispered melodramatically. “God,
Jackson. What kind of a gentleman are you?” She added, hissing.

I let my senses return to normal, because
Jenny’s sentence embarrassed me and a second later I was out the
door. I started walking faster across the parking lot, the black,
inky puddles splashing my ankles as I went. I wasn’t fast
enough.

“Hey, Olivia. Wait up,” Jackson called,
coming out the door at a brisk walk.
I turned as he approached.

“Why don’t you let me give you a ride home?
It’s pretty dark out,” he said, glancing around.

“Oh, it’s really okay. You don’t have to do
that,” I muttered.

“Actually,” he squinted at me, “I do. There
is a whole lot of estrogen in there getting ready to choke me if I
let you walk home right now.” He hooked a thumb back towards the
bar.

I glanced toward the road and then back to
him.
Great Goddess! It’s just a ride home. Do you really want to
walk the whole way?
My feet
were
aching, shooting pains
all the way up my calves, and the water from the freezing puddles
hadn’t helped.

“Besides,” he said, “I don’t mind anyway.” He
glanced away from me as he said this.

I exhaled. “Okay. I don’t want to get you
choked or anything. But this makes us even, so no assassinations
for you.”

He pretended to consider, exhaling loudly
through pursed lips. “Okay. You have a deal.” His eyes twinkled at
me as he led me to his jeep. After he opened the door for me, I
climbed in, grateful for the chance to rest my feet. As he closed
it and walked to the driver’s side, I inhaled. The inside of the
jeep was clean and smelled of leather and some sort of spice – it
was masculine and pleasant. He drove with the same fluid movement
with which he played the guitar.

“So, did you grow up here?” I asked. I
couldn’t stand the silence, and felt the need to make small
talk.

“Yeah—well, since I was five. My father died
and my mom needed a change, I guess. So she picked Staves and we’ve
been here ever since,” he said with a smile.
I thought about my own father who had passed away as well, although
I was quite sure under different circumstances.

“That must have been pretty difficult for
her. Do you have brothers and sisters?” I asked.

Jackson’s lips turned up in an amused smile.
“No. I don’t think my mom could have handled another kid after me.
Besides, I’m selfish so I don’t think it would have worked out
anyway.”

“Were you a bad child, then?” I smiled,
interested in what a normal human childhood might have been
like.

He chuckled. “Not bad, just different. What
about you? Do you have brothers and sisters?”

I carefully plucked the lie out of my
head—one of the ones Charlotte had instructed me on. “I have a
brother named Everett,” I said.

“And where do your parents live?”

My cheeks burned and I was glad for the dark
interior of the jeep. “My father died when I was little too,” I
said, feeling the hollowness of my words. “My mother…she wasn’t
able to take care of me, so my aunt took me in.” Then I added,
“Us,” remembering about Everett.

“Oh. Your aunt doesn’t live here, though.
Where are you from?”

“Not too far. Just about two hours away,” I
said.

A moment later, the black jeep slowed and
pulled up to the curb. The house porch light sent a pool of
illumination cascading down the porch and the front walk. A few
drops of rain that had collected on the leaves of the oak tree lost
their balance now, and splattered the windshield of the jeep.

“Thanks for driving me home,” I said with a
smile.

“It was no problem at all. Goodnight Olivia.”
His face was bright, eyes twinkling and dimples appearing on either
side of his smile. My stomach did a nervous flip-flop.

“Night, Jackson.”

I climbed out of the jeep self-consciously
and shut the door behind me. I watched him pull away from the drive
before going up the walk and letting myself inside the house.

It was a chore to haul myself up the
staircase and into the bathroom, where I took a quick shower and
brushed my teeth. Glancing longingly at the massive, four-poster
bed and the thick, ivory colored quilt, I climbed in. As I
collapsed on the pillows and pulled the quilt up to my chin, my
entire body seemed to sink into the mattress with relief. I found
myself thinking of Jackson’s face and honey eyes just before the
darkness found me, but it was murder that I dreamed of.

My dream that night was a memory. It was a
memory of the second time I had killed. Ivanna and I waded through
the crowded streets of the colorful city, killing time while we
waited for a meeting with a girl we thought might want to come and
learn in Eagleton.

That’s where the dream started—with hazy
memories of the street performers dancing, playing music and
drawing. There had been a fortuneteller with tacky gypsy garb and
needle tracks in her arms. We passed her small table, which was
draped with shimmering fabric and held a large, fake crystal ball.
Ivanna and I had smiled at each other, amused.

About fifty feet in front of us, I spotted
them leaning out of an alleyway. At first, they were just faces in
the crowd—regular men, laughing and enjoying the spirit of the
city. As we got closer to them, though, I felt the hairs rising on
the back of my neck. A hazy red tint colored my vision, not
obstructing but enhancing it. Ivanna grabbed my hand as we walked,
desperately trying to keep my attention focused on her. But the
fact that she had noticed something strange as well only increased
my interest in the men.

As we passed them, one of them turned and I
saw a glimpse of the back of his neck. In thick, tattooed lines
were the marks I had spent my life learning about. The arrows were
crossed, both ends boasting black fletching before the nock. On the
opposite ends of the shafts were exaggerated points, looking sharp
and deadly even though they were only tattoos.

The hunter’s arrows. Whether it was
instinctual or born from years of learning how to fight them, I was
unable to stop myself. I felt the air shift around me and lunged at
them, forcing them backward into the alleyway. Ivanna was powerless
to stop me now. She could fight them, but she was using all of her
effort to conjure an illusion—protecting the normal people from
seeing what was really happening just three feet away from
them.

I had surprised them, but they recovered
quickly. We formed a deadly triangle, with one of the dark men on
my left and ahead of me, and one on the right. The one on my left
distracted me momentarily as his hand shot out to cast a spell in
my direction. While my attention was caught, the man on my right
threw a furious kick that connected with my thigh. I heard the
bones cracking, but the pain was barely noticeable under the
adrenaline.

I knew the dangerous effects of his spell –
whatever they were – wouldn’t catch up to me. The red haze
deepened, and my senses stretched out, reaching around with
invisible fingers. I could hear every noise—an argument in a nearby
apartment, the gypsy woman conning a young man who had paid to have
his fortune read, and the breathing of my foes. I saw the caster of
the spell glance wildly at his companion, no doubt wondering why I
wasn’t writhing in pain or at least consumed by his magick.

As the other one attempted a kick of his own,
I caught his leg and twisted furiously, sending him flipping and
flying. I had been amazed at my own strength. With a flick of my
wrist, an old orange extension cord lying in the alleyway became
animated. Both stretching tautly and whipping around at the same
time, the cord caught the legs of the man still standing and
viciously tore them out from under him.

When they were both on the garbage-flecked
ground, a mind-numbing desire to scream rose within me. I had felt
this before, but never so severely. I was aware of the people on
the street, but hoped Ivanna could somehow keep them from hearing.
I couldn’t fight the urge, and when I opened my lips, the wail
issued forth, blasting out of me with the force of a rocket.

Moments later, the men were gone. Piles of
dust lay on the ground where they had been previously, and it blew
around with the breeze. Shocked, I stared, realizing what I’d done.
I stayed frozen in the spot until Ivanna grabbed my arm, panicked,
and drug me away, half-carrying me because I was unable to walk.
Before my dream faded, I saw the memory of Ivanna’s face—shocked
and awed, and a little frightened.

This was when we had learned the full extent
of my power. The inability of magick to work on me had been a
blessing in my fight with the Venator , but a curse when Charlotte
was unable to assist my body in healing. I had spent eight weeks in
a cast.

Through the haze of the dream-like state I
was in, I heard a voice.

“Tag. You’re it.” The voice didn’t belong to
the sinister figures I’d been remembering. It was more familiar,
and even in sleep, I tried to find the face that belonged to
it.

“Liv-vy,” the word was stretched out and said
in a sing-song voice and seemed to be coming at me through a
tunnel. Everett. For a long moment, I thought I was back in
Eagleton and he was waking me up for breakfast. Then I remembered.
I was banished. It was Friday. Ivanna’s meeting. I let my eyes
open, feeling groggy and still exhausted.

He was lying beside me on the bed, his head
propped up on his hand. It was wonderful to see his face—the pale
hair, golden-tan skin and clear blue eyes. His mouth was curled up
in a crooked smile, showing even, white teeth.

“Good morning. You did not want to wake up.
It took twenty minutes,” he laughed.

I was overjoyed to see him and I threw my
arms around him and buried my face in the collar of his shirt. He
chuckled, and gripped me in a bear hug.

“You don’t know how great it is to see you,”
he said.

“Oh yes, I do. But it’s really nice to see
you, too.” I laughed.

“Get dressed. We’ll get breakfast on the
way,” he said, standing and tossing me a pair of jeans from the
antique armoire in the corner. After deliberating on a shirt for a
few seconds, he gave up and tossed me the first thing his hand
grabbed. He automatically turned away so I could dress quickly.

As I put my clothes on, the discarded pieces
of my uniform on the bathroom floor caught my eye. I remembered
that I’d be gone all day and needed to wash it for tonight. With
any luck, though, Ivanna wouldn’t make me come back. Still, I
picked up the skimpy bits of clothing and slipped my feet into a
pair of flip-flops, grabbing my brush from the dresser in the room.
Everett followed me as I padded down the stairs and tossed the
clothing in, starting the machine.

“In a hurry to get your laundry done?” He
asked, amused.

“It’s for work,” I waved his question
away.

“Yes. Max told me about the ID. I hope you’re
not making any bad choices, Olivia.” His tone was disapproving, and
I chuckled.

“What, you mean hanging around a bunch of
weird humans?” I joked.

“Yeah, and I bet to them, we’re perfectly
ordinary,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

I laughed, pulling the brush through my thick
locks. “I’m just trying to be human. To be normal,” I shrugged.

“Even without being a Wise One, I don’t think
you would be normal,” he said, smiling.

I feigned offense. “What does that mean?”

“That’s a good thing. Do you want to fit
nicely in the box?” He asked, amused.