Wild Fire

by P. M. Briede

  “Thank you for telling me the truth.” I still loved him even though I was now more leery of him. “What other memories have you taken from me?” If there were more I would need to end the intimate aspects of our relationship.

  Olivier slid down to sit beside me on the floor. “None, Charlotte. Please believe me when I say none. The only proof I can offer besides my sincerity is that the worst tragedies of your life, your mother’s death, Giles’ death, your attack, I could have taken those from you. I could have eased your suffering and given you happiness versus leaving you to fight for it. But I didn’t.” There was a pleading quality to his tone. “It was the fight that made you stronger. Out of my own fear I took this one because I didn’t want you always looking over your shoulder dreading something happening to me.”

  So far, as foolish as it may make me, I did believe him. But I wasn’t finished in my quest. “How many memories have you given me? What truly isn’t my own?”

  “Again, nothing. What memories you have, they’re your own.”

  Well that was good to know, although, I’m not sure what memories he possibly could have given me. One more and then this whole ordeal could be over. “How many have you changed, Olivier?”

  “Beg pardon?” he countered. I hadn’t expected that. Lifting my head, I met his eyes in the mirror. I’m not ashamed to say I was hesitant about locking eyes with Olivier given what he could do.

  “If you can give and take, surely you can change as well. Which ones of mine have you altered?” Please don’t say any that are the crux of my love for you.

  Bewildered, Olivier shook his head slowly. “I know the definition and understood what you asked, but Charlotte, that’s not something we can do. The mind is complicated with too many triggers to unravel a web of deceit. It may sound absurd but giving a memory and taking one is an easy task, as simple as hiding a set of keys and then putting them out again. But to make those keys look like they’re something else entirely, it can’t be done.”

  I nodded, accepting his answer but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it actually was possible, Olivier just didn’t know how to do it.

  Chapter 15

  “What’s the plan?” Paige asked. Paige had met Olivier and I at Olivier’s to help me get ready for Alexander’s birthday bash.

  “We need to do everything we can to nail down details about Banks, simple as that,” Olivier answered.

  “What then?” I asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Depends.”

  “On what?” Paige and I hit him as one.

  He looked between us and smiled, shaking his head. “On how much we learn.”

  It occurred to me that this was going to be the first time since the fire that the exile mole knew I’d be at a campaign event. “Olivier,” I swallowed hard before continuing, “are you at all worried about Banks trying to light me up like a drought ravaged forest struck by lightning? Obviously she knows I don’t have to be touched.” That was not an experience I wished to ever relive.

  I was sitting in the chair while Paige curled my hair. Olivier came and knelt in front of me. The flames immediately erupted in them, their intensity warming my skin. “I won’t let that happen, my dear.” He took my hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I have no intention of leaving your side.”

  Paige jumped in then. “You better not, Olivier. I’m tired of Charlotte being in constant danger because your angelic contacts want more from us. We have a name and a position. We all agree Banks is the exile. Can’t we just capture her ourselves? Aren’t you capable enough?”

  “If your goal is to see us all dead, then by all means, let’s turn this into a spectacle!” he growled. Paige cringed in response. “You cannot even begin to fathom what we are up against, Paige. This isn’t some serial killer prowling the streets for unsuspecting victims. This is a member of a superior race of beings. You may have been created in God’s image but we were imbued with His power.”

  She paled at his words, which is saying something since she has an alabaster complexion. “Fine! So what’s the plan if we,” Paige motioned between her and me, “learn anything new?”

  “Simple,” Olivier spat, “you let me know.”

  * * *

  “So you just expect me to zip you out of this beautiful dress and into another, all while containing my more passionate responses? I think you’ve finally given me a challenge I cannot meet, carissime.” Olivier was playful again and I was so relieved. It helped keep my mind off where we were and what we were doing.

  Laughing at his arching eyebrows, dancing eyes, and wry smile, I kissed him. We were backstage at the Saenger Theater, waiting to go onstage. The concert before Alexander’s private birthday bash was being held here before everyone headed to the Ritz Carlton for the party.

  By the time the stage lights dimmed, we were ready for our number. He was dressed in a dance tux while I wore a Ginger Roger’s inspired dress. Waiting in the wings for the music to start, I set myself to walk out onto the stage. I missed the first two beats because my lover’s arm snaked around my waist to pull me to him. “I love you, Charlotte,” he whispered.

  I performed the balletic steps of my solo full of pirouettes, arabesques, and triple steps, until Olivier swept out of the wing to catch me in a waltz hold. He loved to waltz and we’d never gotten to do so before. I’d chosen Ain’t No Way by Aretha Franklin as the music.

  We filled the stage as we flowed through the steps. He’d twirl me around and away while changing hands so I could arabesque away from him. Then he pulled back on my arm so I spun into him until he caught me in a dip, sliding me across the floor. There were no steps that were particularly difficult, no death defying lifts. It was a beautifully, romantic dance between two lovers and it was absolutely my favorite dancing experience with him.

  At the end, the house lights dimmed with me swathed in his embrace. Taking the only second we had before the lights came up for our bows, Olivier kissed the tip of my nose. The applause was energetic and I knew Alexander would be pleased.

  Olivier clasped my hand, much like he had at prom, and the fire in his eyes told me his thoughts were along the same lines as they had been then. We needed a moment of privacy. So focused on drawing me quickly into our dressing room, he practically careened into Paige and Tristan. “Um, guys?”

  At the sound of Paige’s voice, I stopped short, playing anchor to Olivier’s ship. “What are you doing back here?” I asked. “I thought we were meeting in the lobby at the end of the concert.”

  Paige and Tristan looked nervous and kept taking sideline glances at each other. “Yeah, so your performance was breathtaking. Charlotte, can I talk to you over here, please?” The compliment was a throw away. Paige’s real purpose was to talk to me about whatever had her on edge.

  Shrugging at Olivier, I let go of him and made to follow her. With measured words Olivier shook his head in confusion. “I’ll meet you in the dressing room in a minute, carissime.”

  “NO!” Tristan and Paige shouted and we all got shushed by the stage crew.

  Olivier and I shared a shocked look at their reaction. “You two are sharing a dressing room?” Paige clarified. I nodded. “Where?” she continued. What’s with all the questions about our dressing room? I told her where it was. At Paige’s nod, Tristan took off. What the hell was going on?

  When Olivier went to follow him, Paige stepped in his way. His irritated “excuse me,” would have caused a lesser person to cower under his countenance. But this was Paige and even knowing exactly what Olivier is didn’t intimidate her. He’d obviously expected her to back down, so it amused me when he got flustered because she didn’t. Paige put her hands on her hips and laid into him. “Excuse you is right, Olivier. Go cool your jets over there where I can see you and I swear if you try to take off, I’ll sic Charlotte on you. If you think she’ll back you over me, you’ve got another think coming!”

  I had to cover my mouth with my own hand to silence the bark of laughter threatenin
g to escape. The two of them were growing as friends who may truly kill each other one day. But at least they were quiet as they stood there boiling, eyes locked on the other one, until Tristan returned a few minutes later. “Ah, why does it look like Paige wishes she had her gun on her?” Tristan directed at Olivier.

  “Don’t worry, Tristan,” I jumped in. “They’re all bark and no bite. I think they secretly enjoy seeing how far they can provoke the other.”

  When I got to the three of them, I took Olivier’s hand, cupped his cheek, and pulled his fuming face from them. He tried to maintain his expression but I’m pretty sure the humor I found at the whole thing took him over. He spared a glance at them in his peripheral, shook his head, and grinned before sweeping me into his arms to kiss me. Their averted eyes told me we’d made Paige, Paige of all people, embarrassed!

  “Ugh! Get a room.” she groaned.

  “If you’ll recall,” Olivier reminded Paige, “I tried until you stopped me.” He set my weight back on my feet, having held it previously when he crushed my body to his. “You want to tell me why now?” Olivier’s gaze fixed on Paige as if the sheer force of it would drag the answer from her lips.

  “Nope,” she popped the ‘p.’

  Before they could go at it again I interceded. “So whatever the emergency was, I’m assuming since Tristan is back, it’s over?” Tristan and Paige nodded. “Then please excuse us. We’ll go change and meet you in the lobby as previously planned.” I had to drag Olivier away from them and when I glanced over my shoulder to see them leave, I noticed them exhale breaths you would have thought they’d been holding the entirety of our interaction.

  Once in our dressing room, Olivier started disrobing like his clothes were strangling him. “Any idea what that was about?” His irritation was back and laced his tone.

  I imitated Paige. “Nope.” But I caught a familiar smell in the room, one I couldn’t put my finger on.

  “You can be absolutely unmerciful,” Olivier accused me. “Is there no sympathy in your heart for what I lost because of their antics?” There was no longer a hint of the ire he’d been burning with before, but the fire in his eyes hadn’t been put out. The flames licked his pupils as his naked form approached me.

  “Um, did you lose your tux?” I asked. Firmly keeping the fact we were in public in my mind, I refused to look at his lower half, or his eyes for that matter. My gaze was fixed on a point on the wall just over his shoulder.

  “Nope,” Olivier retorted with a ‘p’ pop. His hands were at my back and my dress was falling to my ankles.

  I pushed him away. “Not now. We have too much going on and this is a public dressing room.”

  He grimaced and growled but walked over to his clothes. When I was ready he zipped me into my strapless, chiffon, full length, daffodil yellow, corset-dress. As he did so, his lips traveled from my shoulder to the space behind my ear. “Dedisti mihi valde grata est vismea.” You have given my life meaning and I am so very thankful for it. Hearing that southern drawl he’d perfected utter a language I loved sent my heart racing. I smiled, took Olivier’s hand, and we left for the party.

  The courtyard of the Ritz Carlton is stunning. Lush greenery fills the space as fountains trill a watery symphony. It was historic New Orleans at its best. I had to give it to Alexander; he always showcased the best of what New Orleans had to offer. Even though this was his birthday celebration I recognized influential politicians amongst the crowd.

  Few people paid much attention to our foursome. I kept a close watch out for Wesley though. Yet by the way he worked the crowd, you’d have thought we were the same pole of two magnets. I could never get closer to him than half the distance of the courtyard. Frustrated with the whole situation, I persuaded Paige to accompany me to the ladies room to elicit her help. “Wesley doesn’t avoid you, right?” I attempted to casually ask her.

  Her hands froze in the water running from the faucet as she caught my eyes in the mirror. “You’re joking, right?” she spat. She continued when I shook my head. “Charlotte, why is it I seem to be constantly reminding you that the men you choose to attend these events with are extremely jealous of the men you insist on talking to? I could contain Wesley. Olivier? Well, you’re on your own.”

  “I know I shouldn’t and it’s just going to hurt me, but I have to okay? I can’t explain why but I still feel like he’s my friend and I just want to make sure he’s happy. Regardless of how he treated me he’s still in the center of a war of worlds and he doesn’t even know it.”

  Paige grabbed my shoulders and trapped me in an examining stare. “Shit, you’re not over him!” She peeked over her shoulder and when she saw the full bathroom she pulled me out into a remote corner of the lobby. She ignored my many protests that I was over Wesley. “You’re not. Charlotte, you may be able to fool yourself. Apparently you’ve been able to fool Olivier. But you can’t fool me. Damn girl, what are you going to do? What can Wesley possibly say to make you forgive him? How is it you are even considering taking him back?”

  It was too many questions for my addled mind to comprehend. She was wrong; I just missed my oldest and dearest friend. Actually he was more like family. Letting him just walk away from me was like leaving a piece of myself behind. It was impossible to do. “Stop reading more into this then there is,” I deflected her accusation. “I need closure and to get it I need to talk to him. Now are you going to help me or not?”

  “I wish I’d known that’s what you wanted,” she said.

  “What does that mean?”

  Paige hesitated and I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes as the voices in her head held an internal argument over something. When she closed her eyes, I knew one side had finally won out. “He was in your dressing room, Charlotte,” she confessed. “That’s why Tristan and I were backstage. I figured Olivier wouldn’t let you out of his sight, not that I blame him. We didn’t know what would happen if the three of you met up.”

  What she was saying was baffling and I knew my face had to look dumbstruck. “Why? Why would he be there? You’ve been saying for months … everyone’s been saying for months … their engagement was announced in the papers!” My mind was racing with questions and my tongue tripped over them as they each fought to be asked. “He hasn’t acknowledged my mere existence since a few weeks after Houston. Why was he in my dressing room?”

  Paige paused between each word. “Bat. Shit. Crazy.” I blinked in response, that wasn’t an answer. When I opened my mouth to press her, her words shut it. “We were sitting beside him. It’s the first time I’ve seen him without Abigail, although the brunette was on his other side. Charlotte, he was the old Wesley, our Wesley, your Wesley. He kept going on, and on, and on, and on…”

  “I get it,” I cut her off. She had a way of making something that should only take a couple of words to express take hundreds.

  “Right,” Paige agreed, getting herself back on track, “about you. How excited he was to see you dance again. That it had been so long and it brought him such joy. Tristan and I just nodded. We didn’t know what to say. When you took the stage, his breath caught and he held it until Olivier joined you. Then he sprang out of his seat with fisted hands and Tristan heard him mumble something about needing to see you immediately after the performance and reminding Olivier whose fiancée you are. My guess, he now knows you’re with Olivier, intimately.”

  The pieces were falling into place. Paige needed to know where the dressing rooms were to get Wesley out of mine. “So what happened when Tristan confronted him?” I asked.

  “Not much,” she answered with a shrug. “He’d only just told Wesley he needed to leave when Abigail appeared. Since she pulled Wesley out of your room, Tristan didn’t stick around to observe their interaction.”

  I put my fingers to my temples as pain erupted behind my eyes. By the time I realized what was happening, Paige and I were shocked by a voice I never thought I’d hear again. “There are my girls. Love, I’ve been looking all over for
you.”

  At the sound of his voice, my head jerked up. Wesley appeared out of nowhere. He was standing so inappropriately close given our current relationship status. As he kissed Paige’s astonished face, his arm slipped around my waist, pulling me into the contours of his body. It wasn’t until he’d said his old pet name the second time that I realized he’d used it at all. His nose ran the length of my ear, and the old feelings washed over me like the last five months hadn’t happened. “I love you, my little love,” Wesley lovingly whispered. “Can I now convince you to go upstairs to our room and let me show you how much?”

  What kind of sick, twisted mind game was he playing with me?! My head was spinning from his actions and the searing pain behind my eyes. “Charlotte, are the headaches back again?” he asked with concern. He cupped my face and brought my eyes to his. How could he look at me with such love, with such tender regard? He’s been sleeping with another woman for God knows how long and they’re currently engaged to be married!

  One moment I was confused, the next furious. Paige was standing next to us looking like we were all in the middle of some body-snatching, Twilight Zone episode. Unable to fathom any more, my mind shut down and my body went on autopilot. I didn’t realize I’d slapped Wesley until I felt the sting in my own hand. “How dare you!” Tears stung my eyes and poured down my cheeks. “HOW DARE YOU, WESLEY!” I heard my shrill voice, and took a deep breath before continuing. “You have absolutely no right to act as if nothing has happened over the last five months. You stopped calling. You took up with another woman. You don’t even care when I’m almost raped and murdered. And now,” I paused for breath, “AND NOW,” and another, “you act like you have the right of a lover! You disgust me. I can’t even look at you!”