by A. P. Jensen
“We’ll deal with it when your power returns. Your power won’t show up until you’ve recovered. I’ll teach you when the time comes.”
Jordan eyed her. “What can you do?”
A small smile played around Kelly’s mouth. “A couple things. Are you hungry?”
Jordan nodded and tried to stand but her legs were shaking so badly she would have toppled over if Kelly hadn’t been there to help. Kelly wrapped an arm around Jordan’s waist to steady her as they made their way slowly around the pool to the tunnel. Sunlight spotlighted the women as they made their way slowly through the glass tunnel to the foyer.
Jordan was breathing hard and her body started to shiver. When they walked beneath the stairs to the dining room Jordan came to an abrupt stop. The double doors were thrown on the wraparound porch, splintered beyond repair. Beside the injured doors was the grand chandelier melted into a misshapen ball. Jordan had a dim memory that had her stomach pitching.
“Sorry,” Jordan wheezed.
Kelly shrugged as if the expensive doors and chandelier weren’t a problem. “You just got a little carried away. No harm done.”
When Jordan didn’t move, Kelly pulled her to the kitchen where Heath sat at the island on a bar stool. He didn’t comment on Jordan’s almost handicapped state. He was dressed much as he’d been the night before in work boots, flannel shirt and sunglasses propped on his head.
“You look like crap,” Heath observed.
Jordan scowled.
“Hungry?” Heath asked and Jordan nodded.
“Don’t eat anything he gives you,” Kelly warned in a loud whisper.
Heath shrugged. “I try.”
Kelly maneuvered Jordan into one of the comfortable high backed chairs surrounding the massive island. Kelly reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a huge steaming plate piled high with waffles, sausages and eggs. She set the plate in front of Jordan who rested her finger against the plate and yanked it back quickly with a surprised hiss.
“Careful now, it’s hot,” Kelly said and turned back to the fridge.
Kelly and Heath talked easily as if Jordan’s presence wasn’t out of the ordinary. Jordan couldn’t believe her eyes when Kelly pulled out two steaming cups of coffee and an orange juice from the fridge. Kelly pulled out a bowl of hot oatmeal for herself. Comfortable chatter filled the kitchen. Jordan had never been served breakfast and couldn’t recall a time when she sat at a table with others just to eat and talk. She didn’t quite know what to make of her position in this household or the people in it.
Heath and Kelly didn’t try to include her in their conversation; they seemed to understand that she didn’t feel like making small talk. From the corner of her eye she glanced at them. They didn’t look like magical people. Since she’d been in their presence, except for Kelly healing her and pulling hot meals out of a refrigerator, no one had done anything out of the ordinary.
Jordan cut a piece of waffle and put it in her mouth. How long had it been since she’d had a real meal? In Haven they gave them meals from packets with no flavor. Jordan felt the trembling of her body dwindle down as she put something in her stomach. She found her eyes were continually drawn to the view of the trees and pasture outside. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting and staring until Kelly stepped up beside her.
“You’re falling asleep. Let’s get you up to bed.”
“I’m fine,” Jordan slurred and nearly toppled off the stool.
Heath let out a long suffering sigh and scooped her up. Jordan tried to punch him in the face and he juggled her so her punch flew wide.
“Just hold still,” he snapped impatiently as he climbed the stairs and walked into her bedroom and set her on the bed. “What you went through is equivalent to a heart surgery so take it easy.”
Jordan was so tired she couldn’t move. She stared up at the ceiling, splayed on the bed like a lifeless fish. She heard Heath talk to Kelly on his way out and then Kelly leaned over her, clucking her tongue and brushing Jordan’s hair back from her face. She wasn’t sure why the simple gesture made her want to cry so she jerked away on principle but Kelly didn’t seem to care.
“While you were in the pool room with Donovan I got a delivery,” Kelly said brightly and Jordan half rolled and stared.
Lined up in front of the open closet doors was a mountain of boxes and packages. Kelly began to pull clothes out of bags, exclaiming and showing them to Jordan before rushing into the closet to hang them up.
“I don’t get it,” Jordan murmured, watching her through heavy eyes.
“What?” Kelly asked distractedly as she held up a sweater.
“What are you doing?”
“You need clothes. They’re all in your size. I sent word to a friend last night that I needed a whole new wardrobe, all in the latest fashion of course. Here, put this on.” Kelly held out a soft shirt and pair of robin blue sweat pants. “The clothes you have on are bloody.”
Jordan didn’t reach out to take it. “I can’t-”
A spark of anger lit Kelly’s eyes. “I told you whatever you need, consider it done. I may not be your birth mother but I intend to provide you with what I can.”
Jordan was confused by the note of hurt in Kelly’s voice. She was used to people turning a blind eye to her needs. Generosity was alien to her. Why did Kelly want to help? Jordan didn’t understand but she wouldn’t bite the hand outstretched towards her. Jordan forced herself up and took the clothes.
“Thank you,” she said and Kelly smiled.
“You’re welcome. Now, go and put it on.”
Three hours later the closet was filled with countless pairs of jeans, shirts, camisoles, sweaters, pajamas, underwear, slippers, boots and athletic shoes. Jordan was speechless as the pile of clothes grew. Jordan had never owned more than five changes of clothes and they had never been new. The clothes Kelly pulled out of the bags were expensive and of good quality. The clothes fit perfectly. Wearing the correct size for the first time in her life felt odd.
“Um, what does Mr. Parker do exactly?” Jordan asked as Kelly cut the tags off of a polka dot nightgown.
“He’s a businessman,” she said breezily.
“Businessman?”
“Businessman. Mostly, he’s into the family business.”
“Which is?”
“Consulting. Isn’t this adorable? Maybe I should get one myself.” Kelly slid her a sidelong glance and shook out a black parka with a fur lined hood. “Donovan’s a powerful man. I’m sure you can feel it. It’s never wise to get on the bad side of someone with a lot of power.”
Jordan didn’t reply. She knew all too well. “What will people say when they find out I’m staying here?”
“You’re not ’staying’ here, Jordan, you live here. Most people will be shocked but that’s to be expected.”
“Why?”
Kelly sighed. “Donovan’s lived under a lot of pressure from his family to have a child and he’s fought it. He’s publicly said that he doesn’t want children and doesn’t intend to have any and now… here you are. It’s a shocker.”
“What does he have against kids?”
“Personally, I think he’s scared you’ll be just like him.”
Kelly chuckled and Jordan attempted to give her a smile in return but the feeling wasn’t natural and she didn’t believe Kelly for a moment.
“I’m really happy you’re here. I think having a daughter is good for Donovan,” she said and rose with a bunch of nail polish in her hands and headed towards the bathroom.
“I can feel things changing around here and it’s about time. Donovan needs someone to teach him…” Kelly trailed off and there was a long silence.
Jordan remembered the blanket in the bathtub. Kelly exited the bathroom, gaze resting on Jordan who tensed. Instead of condemnation Kelly looked at her with genuine concern.
“You didn’t sleep well, did you?”
Jordan shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not a good sleeper.”
“Is
the bed too soft? Too hard? You should have told me. We can get a new one today,” Kelly said.
Horrified, Jordan shook her head. “No. It’s not the bed. I’m just not used to it.”
“Are you sure? I could-”
“It’s not the bed. It’s me.”
Kelly’s face softened and she knelt in front of Jordan.
“I don’t know what you’re going through but if you want to talk I’m a good listener. All you have to do is ask.” She leaned forward and ignored how Jordan stiffened when she kissed her on the brow.
Chapter Eight
Jordan unstuck her cheek from the floor. She raised her head and blinked. The peach colored room was coated in a layer of ice. William stood ten feet away, still as a statue. His hair, eyebrows and eyelashes were brushed white with frost. His black eyes glittered with the promise of retribution. Jordan didn’t waste time trying to figure out how the peach colored room had turned into a freezer or how William turned into a living, breathing ice statue. This was her chance to escape.
Jordan forced herself up and limped towards the door that led out into the maze of Haven’s hallways. As she reached for the door knob she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She dived out of the way as a large Ming vase hurtled towards her head. The vase whistled past and crashed into the door. The air began to hum as couches, vases, desks, bookshelves and other objects in the room began to shift menacingly. William couldn’t move his body but he could still manipulate everything else in the room. Her body shook with lingering fear and fatigue. She didn’t have the strength left to fight. Helplessness filled her, an emotion she loathed because it was how she felt as a child and she vowed she would never let herself feel that way again. She would not be weak. Jordan forced herself to meet William’s eyes across the distance. She couldn’t remember what it felt like to be whole, couldn’t remember what it felt like not to be in pain. Hatred, determination and fury kindled to new life and she looked around the room for a weapon.
In the back of the room was a mid-sized pond with a fountain of water in the middle. The steady streams of water were frozen in place, jagged icicles over three feet long. Jordan stumbled as fast as she could towards the pond and skidded on the frozen pool. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she gripped a frozen stream of water and tugged. Desperation gave her strength and she let out a muffled scream of frustration as she cut her hands on the uneven bits of ice. There was a splintering sound as a piece of ice broke off.
Jordan turned towards William with a foot long ice pick in her hand. Everything that wasn’t nailed to the floor was now floating in midair, waiting for her next move. Across the distance, through the bobbing objects, their eyes met and she tightened her grip around the now pink icicle. Jordan saw William’s hands twitch at his sides and knew she had only seconds left to make her move.
She rushed forward and dodged a chair and then dropped to her knees to stop herself from being clobbered by a desk. Jordan let out a scream as a couch tackled and pinned her to the ground. Jordan fell face first and struggled but the weight of the couch was so heavy, she could barely breathe. Her ribs protested.
She pounded the floor with her free hand and managed to keep a tight grip on her weapon. The ice was melting. Her skin dripped as she forced her face an inch off the floor. William now stood in a shallow pool of water and Jordan’s heart tripped in panic when she heard the gurgle and splash of the fountain behind her. She saw William’s hands clench into a fist and prayed for strength. The heat of her hand created grooves on the chunk of ice in her numb hand and she suspected it was shrinking in size but she didn’t dare let it go. She wouldn’t let him get his hands on her. Jordan let rage rule over all other emotion. The couch above her shuddered and let out an earsplitting pop like a firework. Sawdust rained down like a fine mist over Jordan.
Adrenaline pumped through her as she leapt up. She stalked forward and got a firm grip on her makeshift dagger and aimed for his heart. His hand whipped out and stopped the tip of ice inches from his chest.
A cruel smile curled his lips. “Time’s up.”
Jordan jerked upright in the tub, letting out a stifled scream before she clamped a hand over her mouth. She shivered uncontrollably, sobs caught in her throat. She refused to utter them aloud- she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She wrapped the covers as tightly as she could around herself but they failed to ward off the sudden cold. Her teeth chattered so loud she was sure she would wake the whole house.
She rocked from side to side, making sure the blankets covered every inch of her but the nightmare rebuffed any effort to make herself warm, as if the very thought of him pushed her towards death. In desperation, she forced herself to rise and climb out of the tub. She winced when her feet touched the cold tile floor. She hauled the blankets out and turned on the faucets, pushing the knob towards scalding hot. She stoppered the tub and put her face over the steam, hoping the warmth would somehow travel to her frozen heart.
Jordan stripped off her clothes and tumbled into the inch high water. The water was too hot but she didn’t care- anything to banish the chill that had her in its grasp. The water wasn’t high enough to reach her ankles so she scooted beneath the high faucet so the water cascaded down her narrow, hunched back. She breathed deeply, trying to shake her memories.
The shivering slowly eased. She felt fragile, a being on the verge of breaking into a million fragments and becoming nothing. She raised her head to glance around the bathroom in all of its glory and shook her head. She didn’t belong here, didn’t belong anywhere so where did that leave her? She had never found a place in fifteen years that felt safe, where she knew in her bones she belonged. Was there such a place for her?
What little pride she possessed, whatever she had once been was gone. William had broken her into an animal that would do whatever it took to survive- even kill. She let out a little moan of fear as her mind replayed the memory- the elation and relief she felt as she aimed for his heart and then the crushing terror when he’d stopped her. William Stan had turned her into a killer…
Jordan unwrapped a bar of soap and feverishly attacked her skin. She scrubbed until she was covered in soap suds and her skin was red from the water and her ministrations. Water lapped around her waist.
Her senses quivered on an alert status that urged her to fight or take flight. She shuddered beneath the hot water and wished Levi was here with her. He’d been her rock in the past months and now she was alone again where no one understood her nightmares. She cupped her hands and splashed her face with water. As the roar of the water drowned out any sound, she closed her eyes and let herself drift. She was so tired and her chest ached from the broken soul tie. She was ridiculously weak, taking at least eight naps a day and she was incapable of walking longer than ten minutes.
The bathroom filled with steam and the shower stall and mirror fogged up. Moonlight filtered in from a high window above the tub, letting in silver light. She spent so much time in the darkness that the lack of light was comforting rather than alarming. She drifted in warmth, body slowly accepting the heat of the water. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth and her muscles protested her rigid posture. She drifted between memories and the present and choked when she inhaled water. Spluttering, she realized she was chin deep in water. Clumsily, she reached up and turned the faucet. The flow of water stopped and Jordan sat, hair floating on the surface like black seaweed. She eased out from under the faucet and sat silently, body warm but insides still chilled.
Hours later, Jordan watched the sun rise from the yellow room she’d secretly dubbed “the princess room.” She dragged an armchair in front of the glass and watched light illuminate the world. The light hit the yellow curtains and made the room cozy and warm. With the height and angles the room offered she was able to see the lay of the land. The streams ran on either side of the house and connected into a perfect half circle. The land was flat except for a hill in the distance that curved around a glittering lake. Tall trees were scattere
d here and there over the pasture but they grew thickly along the stream and lake side. To the left about ten feet from the stream was Heath’s house which wasn’t lit this early in the morning.
Jordan’s hands trembled in her lap as she resisted the urge to go downstairs and look for pills. The pills not only dulled her power, it kept the emotions and nightmares away. Her power, that clawing need, had yet to return and she secretly prayed it wouldn’t. The thought of dealing with her power again made her blood run cold.
Morning beckoned and she answered its call. She walked past the bed that had yet to be used. Jordan used as little as possible in the room, still not believing that the clothes and toiletries were hers. She was still half convinced that this was all a big mistake and that someone from the foster system or Haven would come through the door and take her. Jordan opened the bedroom door and paused, listening. She could hear the distant crooning of birds and nothing else.
Despite the early hour, the house was filled with light, courtesy of the glass walls. She paused in the kitchen and glanced at the new chandelier and doors that had been replaced. She stepped onto the wraparound porch and closed the door quietly behind her. She folded her arms across her chest, fingers twisting in the soft material of her flannel shirt. She surveyed the backyard closely to make sure nothing was out of place.
She took a deep breath. The air was so clean, so fresh. She could smell sweet flowers, the grass and something else she couldn’t put her finger on. The air was moist and soothing on her skin after the harsh dryness of Nevada. This place was a balm to her shattered nerves and she couldn’t explain the sense of comfort this place offered. Most of the trees soared over the house and the trunks were so large she couldn’t wrap her arms around them.
Wide steps led down to the pasture and in the far distance, the calm glittering water of the lake beckoned but she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it. She made a compromise and decided that she could make it to the stream. Every day she tried to walk longer and further. She needed her strength back. She stuffed her feet into soft red leather boots and paused to admire them for a second. Grass crunched beneath her boots as she moved like a ninety year old, occasionally pressing on her aching chest which became unbearable when she pushed herself too hard.
