Belle, Book and Candle: A Fantasy Novel by Nick Pollotta

by Nick Pollotta

  Just then the old Volvo loudly splashed through a series of small puddles, throwing a spray of dirty water far and wide.

  “Cee ...” Rissa heard herself say in a frightened tone.

  “Don’t worry, Zenny, these are new tires!” Colt announced confidently, a slight squeak marring the youthful boast. “Michelin! The very best.” But the car still slowed to a more reasonable pace.

  Looking down, Rissa saw that she was wearing a flouncy thing of red taffeta with a huge white bow. This could only be a prom dress. Nothing else in the world ever managed to combine elegant and ridiculous so perfectly. Smoothing out the stiff material, Rissa heard it rustle like windblown leaves. That was when she noticed her arms were the color of fresh coffee.

  Never dreamed I was somebody else before! Rissa thought, turning over her hands. Her long fingernails were painted a deep red that perfectly matched the dress, and on her left wrist was a corsage of white lace, baby’s breath, and tiny pink roses.

  Suddenly the dragonbone ring flared red hot on her finger, and Rissa almost woke as knowledge flowed into her mind like silver water. Zenny was short for ... Zenobi Washington, and Cee was her nickname for Emile Coltier. In elementary school, a bully called him “Emily” until they had a fistfight that made them friends for life. He wouldn’t get the nickname of Colt until next winter when he stopped a runaway horse from trampling a little girl at the Kentucky Derby. Rissa felt dizzy, almost drunk, from the torrent of personal information, his entire life condensed into a microsecond download. Internet Explorer, eat your heart out!

  At the moment, the young couple was returning from the senior high school prom and, even though this was their first real date, Zenobi had shaved above her knees while Colt had a condom stashed inside his wallet. Just in case.

  Privately, Rissa had to laugh. That condom won’t get used until next month during a picnic in the Ozark Mountains. However, it was very gallant of him to plan ahead. Better to have and not need, then to go home frustrated and seek solace with the Internet and hand lotion.

  “Which is your house?” Colt asked, shifting gears.

  “Over there,” Rissa answered in a deep contralto. “There’s mine, the brick one with the patio.”

  “Check!”

  Glancing out the rain-speckled window, Rissa saw streetlights form along the road, and stately old houses appeared just past a row of oak trees lining the broad avenue. Dimly she could sense other vehicles on the road, but they were only forgotten shadows of the past. Erased by the slow passage of time.

  Gracefully swinging in toward the curb, Colt shifted into park, but left the motor running as he scrambled out from behind the wheel to rush around and open the passenger door. As Zenny swung her legs out, he gasped at the sight of her nylons, and Rissa felt a rush of tender emotions at his obvious embarrassment.

  Impishly, she had Zenny hitch the hem a little higher to flash some thigh, and Colt instantly turned away, fiercely blushing. She started to mentally chuckle, then abruptly stopped. Wait a damn minute! How can I change something that happened in the past? Exactly what is this, anyway? My dream, his memory, or something else entirely? Maybe a combination of all three?

  Stepping to the curb, Zenny gasped as she stumbled on the wet grass, the heels of her shoes sinking into soft earth. Damn all high heels!

  “Careful!” Colt said, grabbing her around the waist.

  “My hero,” Zenobi whispered, placing a small hand on his chest. She could feel the beat of his heart.

  Their faces were only inches apart, his hands warm on her hips, her dark eyes sparking with reflected moonlight, her moist lips the same color as her nails.

  In another silvery flash, Rissa knew that Colt was having a personal fetish forged at this precise moment. A woman wearing matching colors of anything, even just a blouse and skirt, would always ignite within him a fierce interest that bordered on passion. Rissa filed the information away for later, along with a note to buy some color-coordinated underwear.

  “How did a gorilla like me ever get a date with an angel like you?” Colt asked in a rush, as if he had been holding back the question for ages.

  Because you asked, Zenobi thought while shyly looking away, not able to risk looking him in the face anymore.

  “Because you asked,” Rissa forced her to whisper.

  That seemed to startle both of them, and a long moment of awkward silence passed in agonizing slowness.

  “Then I’m glad that I did,” Colt muttered, setting her down on the sidewalk.

  Looking puzzled, Zenny stood there for a moment in confusion, then smiled, and took his arm. Together, they walked along the damp cement and up the brick steps to the front door. The lawn smelled fresh after the rain, and the brass numbers on the dark wood shone like polished gold.

  “I had a wonderful time at the prom,” Zenny said, adjusting the corsage on her wrist.

  “Yeah, me too,” Colt mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in the rented tuxedo. In the electric light of the crackling bug zapper, the young girl seemed to glow, and he wanted to kiss her so much it was a physical ache. But Colt had never been on a real date before, and had no idea how to proceed.

  Go slow and be polite, Rissa instructed. Just don’t wait until it’s too late like you did in the basement with me!

  Grinning like an idiot, Colt started to gallantly offer his hand, then impulsively touched Zenobi on the bare shoulder. Ebony and ivory.

  As brief as the contact was it sent a visceral surge through Zenny and Rissa unlike anything either of them had ever felt before. Zenny was confused and frightened, while Rissa began to ache to have him inside of her, and to feel those massive arms holding her tenderly ...

  “You’re a wonderful dancer,” Colt said in a rush.

  “You too, Cee,” Zenobi smiled, brushing away a sprinkling of metallic confetti from his lapels. It fell away, glittering like newborn stars.

  Silent, Colt just stood there, conflicting emotions threatening to tear him apart. She smelled like jasmine ... no, gardenias and vanilla. No, that’s Rissa. Who?

  Zenny, her name is Zenny, Rissa said quickly.

  “Well, goodnight,” Zenobi whispered starting to turn away.

  Gently tightening his grip, Colt stopped her from going and bent down to hesitantly kiss her on the lips.

  Unexpectedly, Zenobi kissed him back, rising on tiptoes to wrap her slim arms around his neck. Sliding his hands to the small of her back, Colt pulled her closer, Zenobi and Rissa both eagerly tightening their hold on the young man, and the universe coalesced to a diamond point of time and space, perfect and everlasting.

  Time for me to go, Rissa thought, feeling like the inventor of the third wheel. This was something private that should not have been shared with anybody, even her.

  “No, don’t leave,” Colt begged.

  “Then I won’t,” Zenny whispered, and they passionately kissed again for much longer this time, their bodies moving against each other.

  Suddenly, a mortified Colt tried to move away a little so Zenny wouldn’t notice his condition. She did, and lifted a knee to nudge him between the legs. Galvanized at the incredible sensation, his mind went completely blank, the moment burned into his memory forever.

  “Why, Mr. Coltier,” Zenny groaned in a throaty voice. “I do believe that you are having ungentlemanly thoughts about little ol’ me.”

  Unable to speak at the moment, Colt merely smiled in reply, trying to radiate a combination of ignorance and innocence.

  Demurely, she smiled. “It’s about damn time ...”

  Yee-haw, way to go, Zenny! Rissa cheered.

  “Zenny,” Colt echoed, stroking her ebony hair and gazing down upon the beautiful girl in unabashed wonder.

  Just then, a misty shadow flowed across her beautiful face, altering the details; the color of her hair changed from black into an auburn cascade. When Zenobi smiled, he saw her eyes of warm brown were now sparkling emeralds.

  “Rissa?” Colt gasped in delight, his adult p
ersonage merging with the teenage memories.

  Oh, crap, busted! Rissa mentally squeaked, and tried to mentally order the ring to wake her at once. But nothing happened.

  Repeating her name over and over, Colt crushed Rissa in his powerful arms, holding her in place, and kissed her again, longer and more passionately, the brief flash of teenage romance replaced with a deeper, more intimate embrace ...

  Finally breaking apart for some desperately needed air, Rissa reached out an arm to touch the brick house, and the porch light winked out, casting the couple into deep shadow.

  “Now, how did you do that?” Colt laughed, arching an eyebrow.

  “Magic,” Rissa said cavalierly, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. That was when she noticed the ring was back, and at her touch the rune on his neck blazed with power.

  He grinned. “Show me more,” he said, then unexpectedly cursed and violently shook his hand.

  Zenny was startled, but Rissa could see a nasty burn mark on his skin and smelled burned flesh. Colt must have accidentally touched the electric bug zapper.

  Taking his hand, Rissa kissed the palm and pressed it to her cheek. For an unknown length of time they stayed that way, savoring the precious moment, the passage of time impossible to tell in the strange allotropic realm of a dream. No words were spoken, and none were needed, the touch of their fingers and the rising heat from their bodies speaking volumes that otherwise could not have been properly expressed.

  Then thunder boomed high in the night sky, and the perfect moment was shattered as the rain began again, the gentle patter on the sidewalk sounding oddly similar to a steak sizzling on the grill.

  “We better go inside,” Colt chuckled, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll have the staff start a fire in the ...” His voice trailed away.

  “Colt?” Rissa asked in concern.

  “This ... is not my house,” Colt muttered in obvious confusion. Backing away from the building, he walked into the rain, the ancient tuxedo melting away to become his beer-soaked tailored tuxedo with all of its rips and stains. “Zenobi lived here years ago before she married that senator ...”

  Thunder boomed as Colt jerked his head upward at the storm; then lightning flashed as he turned around and stared at the front yard and the battered old Volvo parked at the curb.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he whispered, a note of panic marring the words.

  “Look, I can explain everything!” Rissa started, then balked, unsure of how to proceed. One of her arms was white, the other black, and her clothing was an insane mixture of the prom dress and a red flannel shirt.

  “Who are you?” Colt asked, squinting, then his voice deepened. “What are you?”

  Before Rissa could answer there came a painful flash of heat on her hand. A split second later, she awoke at home, in bed, sprawled among the pillows, tangled blankets, and sweat-damp sheets ...

  CHAPTER TEN

  “No wait, come back!” Colt yelled, sitting bolt upright in bed, desperately reaching out a hand. Their fingertips touched for the briefest moment ... then Rissa faded away, a whisper in the wind.

  Struggling to catch his breath, Colt did nothing for a long time until the mists of sleep cleared from his mind. Damn, what a wild dream! He hadn’t thought about Zenobi since he received an invitation to her wedding. Then when she changed into Rissa ...

  Rubbing the back of his sore hand, Colt glanced around the bedroom and saw that everything was where it should be: his parents and friends smiling from a collection of framed photos on the wall, his diploma from William and Mary, the digital clock glowing an amber midnight, and the air conditioner softly humming its wordless song.

  Pushing aside the sweat-damp blankets, he swung his legs to the floor and flexed his toes in the plush carpeting. That helped restore some semblance of reality, even though he could still smell her perfume and taste her lipstick. Magic, said Rissa. Well, this is Savannah, the most haunted city in the world. But still ... real magic? No, it was just a dream. Wonderful, yes, but already fading in the harsh light of reality.

  Sliding off the bed, Colt padded naked into the kitchen and gulped down a glass of tap water. That didn’t really help much, so he opened the refrigerator to get a bottle of imported beer from behind an untouched pan of homemade lasagna, one of an endless stream delivered by Gail. His married sister was absolutely positive that any bachelor would soon starve to death if not constantly supplied with fresh food from loving relatives. Which was ridiculous. He was richer than Croesus, owned a dozen restaurants, and had a full staff at both the downtown penthouse and the mansion! Not to mention a credit card and telephone. The only time Colt needed to cook was at the hunting lodge. He was a fine cook. Well, as long as it fit inside the microwave. Frozen burritos, the staff of life.

  The cold German brew went down crisp and clean, like a breath of winter air, banishing any lingering remnants of the dream, although he was sorry to have it go. Zenny and Rissa. Incredibly, he could recall every detail of both women, the details burned into his mind. They were so different, and yet oddly similar. Each was a free spirit, strong, beautiful, and smart. God almighty, he loved intelligent women.

  “Which is the main reason Colette has never gotten into my bed,” Colt muttered out loud. She was a sizzling sex bomb, no doubt about that, but he felt sadly confident that Colette thought a Rhodes scholar had something to do with MapQuest.

  On the other hand, Rissa ... His pulse quickened at the thought of her face, all that wild red hair, and the sweet smell of her perfume. Gardenias and vanilla. The flowing prom dress, that brief flash of thigh, how she fit so perfectly in his arms. If that wasn’t magic, Colt didn’t know what it was. Rissa.

  Yet more than anything else, he remembered her eyes. They were a deep emerald green, like the sea after a storm, and so full of life. Something deep inside of Colt wanted to hold Rissa again and never let go. In vivid detail Colt recalled how she had slid a nylon-clad knee up his thigh to press soft and warm against ...

  Quickly opening the freezer, Colt banished the burgeoning sex fantasy by breathing in the chemically scented cold. A dream; it had only been a dream. Nothing more.

  When his blood was calmer and certain parts of his anatomy less turgid, Colt closed the door and got another beer. A touch of fur on his ankle made Colt set aside the beer to feed the cat, even though it was long before her usual time for breakfast. But then, cats and clocks were natural enemies.

  “You also having weird dreams, Lucy?” he asked, setting down the bowl of dried kibble.

  The brindle tabby responded with an imperial purr, then concentrated on the deadly serious matter of eating, her tail lashing about in barely controlled pleasure.

  “Yeah, I know the feeling, girl,” Colt sighed, padding into the living room.

  Plopping onto the leather sofa, Colt set his bare feet on the marble coffee table and spread his legs wide to have a good scratch and air out the boys. Through the closed windows, he could hear the low murmur of downtown Savannah traffic, the eternal ballet of rushing steel lovingly softened by the gentle mantle of night.

  Colt always felt at peace here. The little apartment, barely ten rooms, was his home away from home, a hidden sanctum sanctorum from the pressures of work and high society. Colt had purchased everything himself, no decorators, and thus the place had a certain disorganized feel. But that was just part of its rustic charm.

  The brick walls were covered with framed photographs of classic cars and antique biplanes, the Duesenbergs and Fokkers curiously similar in their flowing design. Science imitating Nature to become Art.

  Across the room, a plasma screen television dully reflected his image back from the entertainment center, DVD cases and hardback books piled everywhere. A couple of them discreetly wrapped in brown paper in case the maid ever arrived early for the weekly cleaning. Mine? Good lord, no! I’m just holding those for a friend ...

  Softly glowing from within, the plastic castle in the aquarium sent a rippli
ng rainbow across the darkness, the school of darting tetras casting distorted shadows as they endlessly swam around their miniature domain. Serene and safe, they were prisoners in heaven.

  Sometimes Colt envied the fish, not their total lack of excitement, but the way they gracefully moved. Swimming was sort of like flying, and that had always interested him greatly. Soaring carefree above the world, barrel-rolling in the blue, and streaking through the pillowy clouds. Damn, that sounds like fun!

  Wistfully, Colt took a long pull from the beer. Unfortunately, there was never enough time for pilot lessons, and so it remained an elusive dream. Racing cars was a poor substitute, but it was as close to actual flying as Colt would ever get on his hectic schedule.

  As always, the Nautilus machine beckoned from the far corner, promising eternal health for only fifteen minutes a day, and spreading across the dining table was a partially completed jigsaw of the moon. Lately, Colt had been thinking a lot about Madame Luna. No idea why.

  Flexing his sore hand, Colt seriously considered taking tomorrow off from work, as rare an occasion as a lunar eclipse. However, there were no pressing matters at the Tower, and Laura could handle anything that came into the office for a while. Plus it had been a very long time since he went book shopping or wasted an afternoon fishing at the shack.

  “I might even ask Miss Harmond out for dinner,” Colt said aloud, setting the beer down on an illustrated sports magazine. While he dated regularly, it was mostly just for social obligations, and rarely the same woman twice.

  The vast majority of debutantes, socialites, and heiresses that he escorted immediately professed a deep and abiding love for classic cars. Which Colt naturally assumed to mean they were not interested in cars, or him, in the least, and were simply after his wealth. The Beatles had been right; money can’t buy you love, merely unscrupulous bed partners. Sad, but true.

  Then Colt brightened. On the other hand, Rissa had never mentions cars, only movies, and her towering rage at his admittedly ill-timed advance had been absolutely genuine as she threw his ass out of the mansion. Reaching for the beer, he chuckled at the memory. That had been a new experience. No rich Southern woman had ever refused him a kiss before! For some unfathomable reason, Colt liked that a lot, and ... whatthehell?