Kindling Flames-Flying Sparks

by Julie Wetzel

  Vicky laughed a little at the understatement. Twenty-three vases of flowers had arrived. It would take a van to get them all out of the hospital.

  She looked back out the window at the rain-washed world. They were getting closer to the center of town. “Were we going to stop at my apartment?” Vicky asked. She still needed to see if there was anything salvageable, or if she needed to buy new clothing.

  “I hadn’t planned on it.” Darien looked over at her. “The doctor said you should stay off your feet until you are fully healed.”

  Vicky met his green eyes for a moment before he turned back to the road. She could have sworn she saw amusement hidden in their depths.

  “Anyway, the arson unit still has your place roped off while they investigate the cause of the fire. Detective Baily said you should be able to get in there on Thursday.”

  She nodded at this information. So she would need new clothes. “You talked to Detective Baily?” Vicky looked over at Darien’s profile. The edges of his mouth had tightened into the barest hint of a smile.

  “Of course.” He glanced at her. “I needed to find out when they would be done so I could schedule the salvage crew to go in.”

  “A salvage crew?” Vicky questioned. How much did a salvage crew cost? She’d planned to call the girls over on the weekend.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Darien answered. “They’ll take good care of your things. I’ll have everything delivered to the warehouse on Balling Ave. so you can go through it later.”

  “Balling Avenue?” Vicky asked. She knew he had many businesses across the city, but she wasn’t aware of one on Balling Avenue. That was a fair distance out of town.

  “That’s my private storage building,” he answered.

  Vicky let out a deep sigh and leaned her head forwards to rest her face on her palms. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. She was used to being an independent woman, but she suddenly felt like the pet so many people thought she was.

  Darien watched her from the corner of his eye. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  Vicky sat up properly with a sigh. “Yes,” she said. “I’m just a little overwhelmed by everything. I was expecting to have to go look through the apartment myself.”

  “I can call the crew and tell them to hold off if you want,” Darien told her, “but it will be next weekend before you can get over there.”

  She looked up at him, confused.

  “You should take it easy for the next few days as you recover, and there’s something important I’ll need you for this weekend.”

  “Oh, okay,” Vicky agreed, though she didn’t remember seeing anything written in his calendar for this upcoming weekend.

  Darien pulled into a parking spot along the edge of the road. “We’re here.”

  Vicky looked out the window at the tall buildings lining the street. These buildings weren’t as tall as the ones downtown, but they still made her feel very small.

  Darien pulled the messenger bag from the back seat and slung it across his chest as he rounded the car to help Vicky out. “Give me your bag.” He held his hand out so she could hand the black backpack up to him. Slipping his arms through the straps, he settled it on his back.

  Vicky went to climb out of the car, glad the rain had almost stopped, but Darien stopped her before her feet could touch the ground. She squeaked as he lifted her from the car and kicked the door shut. Surprised at the swift movements, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Snickering, Darien bounced her in his arms lightly to settle her in for the trip.

  “I can walk,” she complained. She didn’t know if she liked being in his arms like this.

  “The doctor said to stay off your feet,” Darien teased as he turned towards the main entrance of a classical stone building. “Anyway, you don’t have any shoes on.”

  Vicky looked down at her hospital socks. There was a lovely pair of sandals in the backpack that matched the dress Darien had provided, but the doctor had been insistent that she not stand on the healing wounds. Vicky gasped as they entered a grand foyer with white marble floors and a set of sweeping steps that curled up to the second floor. There was a stunningly large, crystal chandelier sparkling in the center of the room. A man stood behind a counter made of some dark wood and topped with the same white stone as the floor.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Ritter,” the man greeted Darien as he walked in.

  “Good afternoon, Ethan.” Darien nodded.

  Vicky ticked this man off as human.

  “This is Miss Westernly. She’ll be staying with me for a while.”

  She tried not to squirm as the man looked her over.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Westernly,” Ethan said in greeting before turning his attention back to Darien. “I’ll make a note for security.”

  “Very good.” Darien thanked him and headed past the desk and down the hall leading to the elevators.

  “Have a nice day,” Ethan called after them.

  Vicky was thoroughly embarrassed by the encounter. “You really can put me down now,” she complained. She felt a little weird being carried. “I must be heavy.”

  Darien grinned as he hit the button for the elevator. “Not as heavy as the last time I carried you,” he teased again.

  Surprised crossed Vicky’s face. She didn’t remember him carrying her before today. Her mind whirled as she tried to remember when he had picked her up. She blushed when she realized it must have been on Monday evening, after Goth Night. Vicky had woken up in her bed on Tuesday with a killer hangover, unable to remember how she’d gotten there. “You put me to bed after clubbing last Monday?” she asked him, trying to verify her suspicions.

  He shrugged. “You fell asleep in the car,” he said, stepping into the elevator. She held him tightly as he moved the hand under her back to the control panel and punched in a code.

  “You could’ve woken me up,” she grumbled.

  Darien chuckled and leaned his shoulder against the wall as the doors slid shut and the elevator started off towards his floor. “But I like watching you sleep.” He grinned mischievously.

  Vicky tensed in his arms. That was one of the creepiest things he had ever said.

  “Relax. It’s just that no one falls asleep around me very often.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “Why not?”

  Darien gave her a little squeeze. He liked that innocent streak in her. “It’s the whole sharp teeth, blood drinking thing.” He smiled.

  Vicky’s eyes widened in surprise; she hadn’t even thought about how dangerous falling asleep around Darien could be. “Um… should I be worried?” She was starting to think she’d made a bad decision in agreeing to stay with him. Maybe it wasn’t too late to see if Vanessa had that spare room.

  “If I’d wanted to take your blood, I could have done so a long time ago.” Darien chuckled. “You would be easy prey.”

  Vicky fidgeted in his arms a little. Now she was really uncomfortable being so close to him.

  “Don’t worry.” He calmed her. “I have no intention of letting anyone bite you again. I’ve lost one good PA already this year. I’m going to do my best to not lose another.” He could see the confusion in her eyes and went on to explain. “I need someone sharp and attentive to run my life. Blood loss makes one tired and absentminded.”

  Vicky gave him a slow ‘ah ha’ as she thought about his answer. When the elevator door opened, she was pulled from her thoughts as Darien pushed away from the wall. She held on a little tighter as they stepped out into a foyer.

  He made a short jog to the left, past the end of a set of steps and into a large living room. Setting Vicky down on a deep, blue sofa, Darien dropped the bags he was carrying to the floor and pulled off his jacket, folding it over one end of the couch.

  Darien’s living room was huge, with a fireplace on one side and three tall windows on the other. The furnishing was modest. Two large couches and a matching love seat surrounding a glass coffee table.
Two floor lamps sat at the ends of either couch to add some extra lighting. There were a couple of curio cabinets near the windows, but they were too far away for Vicky to see.

  She felt the material of the couch and found that it was a soft slipcover. The wall around the fireplace was tiled with angel stone and had a large shelf built into it. A variety of old books were lined up, waiting for someone’s attention. The floor was made of a honey-colored hardwood, and there was a large area rug underneath the couches. Overall, the room was a relaxing mixture of deep blues and browns.

  Darien sat on the couch next to Vicky as she looked around at what would be her home for a while. “Let’s see what we can do about the rest of your wounds,” he said as he twisted her on the couch so she was facing away from him.

  “Um…” She started to protest as Darien pulled her into his lap to cradle her in his arms.

  “Just relax,” he soothed, while pressing her head into his shoulder. Vicky folded her arms up over her chest and let Darien draw her closer. With one arm supporting her from behind and the other pulling her body against him, Darien held her as if she were a child. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on her forehead as he released his control. His power flowed out into her.

  Vicky had still been a little tense from the conversation in the elevator, but the warmth that seeped out of him caused her to relax completely in his arms. It swept across her and made her insides tingle. She rolled her head so her face was resting against his chest.

  Darien made a contented noise.

  Vicky didn’t know how long they sat folded together on the couch, but she knew it would soon be over when the warmth slowly withdrew from her. A hint of regret plucked at her heart as Darien raised his head from hers and looked down. She considered pretending she was asleep so she could stay wrapped in his arms but decided against it. Looking up into his green eyes, shimmering with the aftereffects of magic, she marveled at their beauty.

  Darien released her so Vicky could sit up. He wasn’t sure if he could handle holding her like that any longer. She was still stirring emotions in him that he couldn’t put down, and he still needed to find that picture to see if his suspicions were correct.

  “How do you feel now?” Darien asked.

  Vicky blinked at him. Her mind was still a little fuzzy from the warmth he had poured into her. “Wonderful.” She stretched as if she’d just woken up from a long nap, fully rested.

  “Great.” He stood up and offered her his hand. “How about a tour?”

  “Sure.” Taking his hand, she stood up a little too quickly. Her head swam, and Darien caught her before she could fall into the glass table.

  “Careful there,” he warned her. “I’d forgotten about that.” Darien wrapped his arm around Vicky’s waist to support her.

  “About what?” she slurred, and then giggled at the sound.

  “Too much magic can make you drunk,” he explained.

  “Does that mean you’re intoxicating?” She giggled again, making Darien grin.

  “I guess it does.” He moved Vicky away from the couches and towards the right wall. “But it shouldn’t last long. Let’s get you some water.”

  Darien walked her over to the wooden panels and slid the entire wall open to reveal a beautiful, oak dining room set. He turned right, through a swinging door, into a white marble kitchen. Hitting the switch on the recessed lighting, he smiled as Vicky oohed and escorted her between the countertops of the shotgun kitchen and into the east-facing breakfast nook. Darien pulled out one of the iron scrollwork chairs and sat her down.

  She shook her head, trying to clear the fluff from her brain.

  Going back into the kitchen, Darien pulled a royal blue tumbler from the cabinet and filled it from a pitcher of water in the refrigerator. Bringing it back, he found Vicky bent over, resting her head on the cool, glass top of the wrought iron table. He set the cup next to her where she wouldn’t knock it over and chuckled.

  Vicky rolled her head and looked up at the laughing man.

  Darien sat down in the chair next to her to wait for her to recover. He didn’t think he had used that much power. Vicky must be very sensitive to magic.

  ***

  After a few minutes of staring at Darien, Vicky finally sat up. Taking up the glass of water, she drank deeply before setting it back down on the table with a tap. She still felt a little funny, but the world was no longer wobbling back and forth.

  With a clearer head, Vicky began to look around at the room. It had a very English feel to it. The wallpaper was done up in an ivy pattern, and a large picture of a garden hung on the wall next to the kitchen. The other wall contained a cabinet filled with teacups and plate sets. There was another large painting of some light purple flowers next to the cabinet. One corner was curved and held three windows treated with lace, café-style curtains that would let the morning sunshine in. Overall, it was light, airy, and very refreshing.

  “You have a beautiful home,” Vicky said as she took another sip of water. The funny feeling was starting to go away.

  “Thank you very much,” Darien answered. “But you haven’t seen it all. Are you feeling better?”

  She nodded and drained the rest of the water from her glass.

  Standing up, he offered her his hand again. “Then let me show you the rest.” She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. Taking her glass from the table, he set it by the sink as they passed back through the kitchen. All the modern necessities filled the kitchen, with plenty of room for several people to work comfortably together. They passed through the door to the dining room and back into the living room where they started.

  “We’re on the fourteenth floor of the Touraine.” Darien held out his hand for Vicky to step over to the window and look down on the magnificent view of the city.

  She looked out, wide-eyed, at the tiny people and cars fourteen stories below.

  “Over there is the dining room and the kitchen.” He pointed to the right. “And over here is the family room.” Walking over, he slid the wooden pocket door back to reveal a room just as large as the dining room.

  Vicky pulled herself away from the view to explore this new room. A pair of emerald green couches faced a large, flat-screen TV mounted to the wall over a wooden cabinet. Another large area rug stretched across the floor, complementing the couches and the long curtains covering the windows.

  “I’ll teach you how to use the remotes later.” Darien tapped the wall next to the light switch so Vicky would see it as he led the way out of the room. He pointed out doors as he walked past them: a half bath, a bedroom, a coat closet, the elevators, stairs leading out if she wished to walk down the fourteen flights, and finally, another door to the kitchen.

  Vicky tried to note everything as she went, but her mind was still a little befuddled. “But, if there is only one bedroom, where will I stay?” she said, thinking out loud. She really didn’t want to have to share a room with her boss.

  Darien laughed. “Wherever you want.” He waved her up a flight of steps that Vicky had somehow missed.

  “Oh.” She blushed as she led the way up the stairs.

  “There are four more rooms up here,” Darien said when they stopped on the landing. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of recessed lights. “This way.” Holding out his hand, he guided her to the left. A door opened to reveal an office space. “This is the only room, other than the master bedroom, that’s occupied. It’s also the smallest.”

  Vicky looked around. Decorated in dark red tones, the space felt warm and comforting. The tall shelves lining the walls were filled with books and random items. Some were dangerous looking and some were beautiful, but all looked rather old.

  “You’re welcome in here at any time, but be forewarned—some of the things on the shelves don’t like to be touched.”

  Vicky balled her hands up and slid them behind her back so she wouldn’t be tempted by anything.

  “If you have any questions about anything in here, feel free
to ask.”

  She nodded. This room intrigued her, but did she really want to know what types of things “don’t like to be touched”?

  “So, which room do I get?” Vicky asked.

  Darien chuckled as they headed back out into the hallway.

  “There’s the one bedroom on the main floor and two up here available.” He shut the door and led her back out past the stairs and to the right. “You can have any one you want, but I would suggest this one.” He led her around the end of the steps and down a short hall.

  Stepping into this room felt like stepping into a forest glade. The pale, variegated green of the walls gave off the feeling of sun-dappled leaves. The large, four-poster bed was the same honey-brown hue of the floor. The greens and golds of a large rug were mirrored in the flowing material draped over the three windows on the far wall. The linens on the bedding were a little darker, but they looked as if they were speckled with bits of sunlight. There was another one of those slipcovered sofas in a pale green. Vicky’s attention was captured by the looking glass over the dresser. The wooden frame was carved into trees. The leaves and bowers entwined at the top, and the roots interwove at the bottom.

  Vicky gasped as she stepped towards the carving. “Beautiful.”

  “I had to have the mirror reworked.” Darien moved so they were both reflected in the surface. “But, the frame is nearly two hundred years old.”

  Vicky stared openmouthed at the masterpiece that should have been hanging in a museum.

  Darien gave her a moment to deal with her shock before speaking again. “So, do you like the room?”

  It took Vicky another second to recover so she could answer. “I love it,” she said, breathily, as she spun to face him.

  “Good.” He smiled. “It’s yours for as long as you’d like.” Darien pointed to the two doors in the entryway. “Your bathroom is there, across from the closet. Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the rooms.”

  She followed him out. They turned left past the stairs and Darien’s office. Another door opened to a short hall and another bedroom.