by P. M. Briede
My brain screamed at me to get away from him, to call the nurse and have him not only removed from my room but the hospital. He ferried souls to Hell … purposely! Yet my instincts were resolved to hear him out. He’d never been anything but protective of me. I couldn’t bring myself to revoke an opportunity for him to redeem himself in my eyes. “That’s really disturbing, Olivier. If that’s how you see us mortals, why is it you are so gentle with me?”
“It never ceases to amaze me that just when I think you’ll put up with me no more, you always insist on seeing the good instead and determinedly strive to understand the unimaginable. I’ve kept so much from you over the years, hidden so much, told you so many lies, yet no matter what form I’ve taken with you, you’ve never turned your back on me.”
“Forms?” I asked, confused for only a second. The figurative shedding of skin from my mind trip when I was in the coma surged to the surface. “Russell, Henry, Jaime, Brandon, Jason,” I accused him. “Is that all of them?”
“Dear, before I answer that, will you answer a question for me?” As much as I wanted the answer, I couldn’t deny his request for one himself. When I told him yes, he inquired, “How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“Know it was me when we were dancing on Valentine’s,” he clarified. “Know I wasn’t like you but was different. For the life of me I can’t figure out how you knew those two facts.”
It was endearing to hear Olivier wonder at my detection of his lies. I was embarrassed to admit the simple facts as they were. “Olivier, I’d know your touch anywhere but especially during a dance. Your hold is very unique to you and while you obviously are able to hide your face, you couldn’t disguise that from me.” This admission caused his eyes to burn as they only did for me. That internal fire danced alongside his pupils. I averted mine, so as not to get lost its silent grace, and forced myself to continue. “And while that would have been enough to make me question your humanity, I’d already put into motion the collection of solid evidence to confront you with.”
“What was that, my dear?” His voice was raspy as he resumed caressing the injection point.
Given what he was, this was the first time I’d ever truly been afraid of his potential reaction. According to him, I’m not supposed to even know the truth, and I’d accidently confided some piece of it to Paige. “Do you remember that day in the music room when you cut your hand?” I began. This time his eyes grew wide with apprehension as he nodded slowly. “Well, I had Paige collect samples of the blood you left behind.”
“I didn’t leave any blood.” When he cut me off, all emotion was gone from his voice, his visage grim. “I absorbed it all.”
“Yeah, about that, you actually didn’t. There were a few drops under the piano. I saw them when I went back to inspect the floor and wire cutters.” He bolted from the bed so fast, I hardly saw the action. He turned his back to me and started rubbing his face with his hands before running them through his hair. I could see the tension building in his body. “If you’re worried that there’s a sample of your DNA on record at the crime lab, there isn’t.”
Some of the tension dissipated and he glanced over his shoulder to look at me. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I shouldn’t judge you for seeing through my lies and trying to unravel them. But yes, that was my biggest concern given it would be enough of a reason for me to be sentenced to the ignes iudicii. While at one time it was truly what I wished for, since meeting you I have done everything in my power to avoid ever having to face those flames. But if Paige didn’t take them to her crime lab, where did she take them?”
Curious about what these judgmental flames did, I held back the question for now and informed him the tests were conducted by a forensics class at LSU. While Olivier wasn’t thrilled that his blood had actually been tested, he was somewhat relieved that the tests were just run by a bunch of college students. “Do you think Paige can explain it away and keep the professor from digging further?” he queried.
“I don’t see why not, but you’ll have to clue her into your secret. There is no way I’m going to be able to keep this from her.” Frustrated annoyance flashed through his eyes, yet in the end he agreed that in order to ensure the protection of his true identity, Paige would have to be made aware of the truth.
We were silent for a moment, both reeling from all that had occurred. I had a litany of questions running through my mind and I could see the same amount playing across his features. “What happens to these people while you commandeer their lives?”
“I don’t take over anyone’s life. I create these personas. They’re all me.”
“Which is your true form? Have I even seen it? What is your real name?”
My questions and demeanor fascinated him. “Slow down there, dear. Yes, my true form is the one I wear with you now. As far as my real name, it’s been so long and I’ve used so many, I honestly don’t remember. I took Olivier Cheval a few centuries ago when in this form and living in France. In the last few decades more and more people pronounced it Oliver which is why I quit fighting the trend. My superiors weren’t happy when they found out I’d given you the truth, even if you didn’t realize it, but I didn’t want to interfere in your life anymore and I was hoping that by doing so it would make it impossible for me to ever do it again. I had no idea it would lead to the complete unraveling of our past.”
It made sense then as to why I’d never realized the similarities of all his “forms” before. This led me to another thought about this subject. “So is Russell real? How are you able to be in two places at once?”
He chuckled warmly. “No, Russell is real. When you wished for me to partner you that night, I was so overwhelmed with desire to do so, that I, and I’m not ashamed to say this, I stunned him and once the performance was over, gave him the memory of it.”
“How?” I asked. Olivier shifted uncomfortably and ignored my question. I repeated the question but he refused to answer. Since I had many more and I was beginning to tire out, I let it go … for now. “What would happen to you if you were sentenced to the ignes iudicii? Would you go to Hell?”
With a deep breath he came back to me and sat on the edge of the bed. “No, my dear, I wouldn’t go to Hell. Unfortunately, something much more terrifying would occur. I’d cease to exist on any plane, in any form. All my actions would still exist, but no one would remember me. Not only would I no longer exist, but it would be like I never had. It’s the same for anyone who encounters that inferno. It’s rarely used because the consequences are so dire, for both sides, but it has happened to both angels and humans.”
“Twice now you’ve said you strive to avoid that consequence. Why?”
“I told you. You.” He paused to gauge my response before explaining further. “You made me feel something for people again, instead of sitting in contempt of them. You called into question every decision I’d ever made, forcing me to re-evaluate my ill-conceived perceptions.”
It bewildered me that I could hold this much sway over a being who’d been around, literally, forever. “I’m a nobody, Olivier!” I exclaimed. “How did I do that?”
The flames began licking at his pupils. “You caught my attention when I came to you as Jason. You intrigued me when we danced together and I was Brandon. You changed me when I was Henry and I fell in love with you. In the beginning, I’m sure that your being a muse….”
Muse? What the hell was he talking about? He said that so off the cuff, like I was aware of it somehow. “Excuse me, I’m a what?” I cut him off.
“A muse,” Olivier repeated. “So you really didn’t know? I’d always wondered since at times it seemed as if you were truly oblivious while there were others where it seemed you knew exactly the power you could wield.” My true ignorance about what I am seemed to entertain him. That is until the rhythm of the monitor began voicing my palpitating pulse. “Shhh, my dear, it’s nothing to be troubled about.”
“Am I still human then?” I squeaked in panic. His
confident nod calmed my nerves. “A muse? Like the mythological goddesses who inspired the arts?” He smiled and nodded again. I started thinking through my life and being a muse made sense. I’d always been more successful in my artistic endeavors than in anything else. This past year and a half had been a testament to that.
“You see the truth in it now,” he observed, “but it goes beyond artistic inspiration and talent. I’ve seen it before, Charlotte, but it’s extremely rare. Typically, a muse inspires the latent talents in all of us. In most cases they manifest in harmless expressions of love through poetry, literature, performance. Think Marilyn Monroe. But sometimes they can change the course of history, and it’s not always for the better. Think Helen of Troy. You, my dear, fall into the second category, and very powerfully, especially given your ever increasing relationship and influence on Breaux. You draw out everyone’s deepest desires not just their latent artistic talents.”
“Muses are scattered throughout history and the most powerful always end up drawn into politics. However, in the most negatively world altering scenarios, a muse is also in the mix. Caesar had Mark Antony whose muse was Cleopatra.” He paused to take a breath. “After the chaos that ensued when Rome fell the decision was made that mortals could be troublesome enough to deserve to face the ignes iudicii.”
“Are you trying to tell me Wesley…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Wesley wasn’t like that. He’d never hurt anyone!
“We don’t know Charlotte, but the two of you together are a potentially combustible combination, a risk the side of good isn’t willing to take. You were never meant to even be friends, yet somehow an unbreakable bond exists. It’s why I came across you in the first place. I was actually sent to oversee and turn Breaux. Even at fourteen, both sides knew he was a force with the power to tip the scales. You side-tracked me, and have been every day since, as I’ve spent all of my time trying to keep both sides from burning you.”
This time I felt the quickening of my heart before the machine sounded. It took more effort to forcibly regulate my reactions. The effects of my medications must be waning; maybe having this conversation on drugs wasn’t such a good idea. If I focused too hard on everything he’d told me, my emotional responses would build into what I recognized to be an immense panic attack. “Why me?” my small voice questioned.
Olivier’s was compassionate in return. “You are a drug for him and he becomes blind to his own, and Alexander’s, fallibilities. Alexander shouldn’t be running for President.” He started stroking the back of my hand again. “Don’t worry, Charlotte, I’ll not let you suffer that consequence.”
This time I couldn’t lock down the terror that was building inside me. The monitor sounded an alarm and the nurse came tearing into the room. “Mr. Cheval, I’m sorry but I think you need to leave,” she said in an insistent tone. “I let you stay longer than the doctor recommended because of Mrs. Charlotte’s insistence. The monitor is showing she’s severely distressed.”
“Please,” I begged, “it has nothing to do with Olivier. Please let him stay. It’s the pain medication. I think it’s wearing off and I can feel everything.” While the words I spoke were true, it wasn’t the pain of my injuries that was causing my agony. But if she made Olivier leave, I knew no medication, short of complete sedation, would calm me now. I needed to get Olivier’s promise that he’d protect Wesley too. While I was still confused about everything I’d learned the night of the ball, I wasn’t so mad at Wesley that I thought he deserved to burn. The tears that seeped out my eyes must have added weight to my lie. The next words I spoke were choked. “He’s actually been a soothing influence through the times when I thought I could manage the pain. Let him stay, at least until the dose puts me to sleep.”
The nurse took pity on me. Once she got Olivier’s word that he would leave when I was asleep she went to get the medication. We remained silent while she was gone. She came back with three needles, and one at a time, inserted them into the IV. The peculiar cold sensation swept through my body as the medicine swam through my blood stream.
When she left, Olivier leveled a calculated stare at me. “Charlotte, do you trust me? Given everything I’ve confided and confessed to you, do you trust me?” Fighting exhaustion, I locked eyes with him and nodded. “Breaux has never been my priority, and he never will be. But protecting you, in the past, has also protected him. Given what I am and the lies I’ve told you, I’ve always known we were never a long term option. It’s why I introduced you to Giles. His path was clear and it gave you a happy life, away from the whelp.”
“Unfortunately, my superiors got greedy and determined that with you completely out of the picture of Breaux’s life; he wasn’t moving the world towards their desired ends fast enough. To accomplish anything, he needs you in some form or another. They put a plan into motion to get Giles to accept a position in Louisiana. Money, power, you name it, they offered it; all to get you back into Breaux’s sphere. The last outcome they expected happened though. Giles turned them down. So the only option they had left was to kill him. The exile you heard me talking to was the one charged with getting you back to New Orleans by any means necessary.”
My reaction to this account of events could not even be regulated by the sedatives. It took a lot of soothing words from Olivier and dedicated control from me to keep the monitor from calling the nurse. “My husband was murdered?” fell from my shocked lips. “It was an accident, a drunk driving accident.” Olivier explained it was a well-planned and orchestrated murder where the exile had been the one to encourage the inebriation of the other driver before putting them behind the wheel and sending them on a collision course with Giles. They’d known that with Giles out of the picture, I’d move home.
“The exiles were told you were needed for inspiration so Breaux would move forward,” Olivier explained. “When it became obvious to everyone that the whelp was going to admit his feelings for you, I was again dispatched to intervene. But they waited too long, expecting him to hem and haw about it, as he’s always done. My presence instead of intimidating him, this time actually spurred his courage. I’d placed all my bets on you and the attraction between us. But too quickly you saw right through every smoke and mirror I put up.”
“About a month ago, I was approached by two angels. They couldn’t offer me redemption, but they offered me the opportunity to protect you. They told me an exile was masquerading among those with influence over Alexander and Breaux. I trust them because we’d been friends from before I was exiled. Before hearing anything else, I agreed to do whatever was necessary to give you back your life and keep you from the ignes iudicii.” Olivier paused to catch his breath. He’d been talking so fast in an attempt to keep me from panicking again.
“Somehow, this exile has masked her identity,” he confessed. “Typically we can recognize each other for what we truly are. While I know she’s there, know I’ve seen and spoken to her, her face will not commit itself to my memory. If I can figure out who she is, prove she’s behind everything, they’ll condemn her instead of you, and possibly Breaux. If not, well the deal I’ve made should hopefully protect you, but I cannot guarantee anything for him. I’ve basically become a double agent.”
The burning I’d experienced earlier in the week, Giles’ death, I had thought those would be the worst nightmare’s I’d ever experience in my life. Now I was being told that someone I’d known all my life was being manipulated, that I was being used to help do so, and as a result he could end up erased from existence or destroy the world. “How do I protect him?”
Defeat, resignation, and fear warred across Olivier’s features. “Charlotte, I don’t know if you can,” fell from his tongue with resignation. “The best way won’t be the easiest. You have to walk away. If I’d have done so twenty years ago, none of you may be in this circumstance. But I know, probably better than anyone, how difficult that could be. I’ll stand by you, but if you choose to continue to have any type of relationship with Breaux, and I won’t
fault you if you do, the road ahead will be dangerous, for all of us.”
The trials of this entire exchange with Olivier had finally caught up with the medication coursing through my veins. My eyelids were so heavy; I could no longer fight to hold them up. As they started fluttering Olivier leaned forward. “Sleep now, my dear. We don’t have to solve all the world’s problems this second. All of this is moot if you don’t take care and heal.” I closed my eyes. As I drifted off to sleep it almost felt as if his lips brushed against mine, bathing my body in a soothing warmth. My mind stopped spinning and entered a peaceful, dreamless slumber.
Chapter 2
“I’m sorry, he’s a what? You’re a what? And we could all be sentenced to what?” Paige’s exasperated whispers echoed through the room. Olivier and I had recounted everything to her that he’d told me the day before. Let’s just say she wasn’t necessarily handling it as well as I had.
“Calm down, Paige,” I admonished her. “Olivier’s not going to hurt us.” She may have been calmly asking questions but during the course of the conversation she’d slowly maneuvered herself between Olivier and me, keeping her eyes trained on him with a hand near her gun. “He’s an exiled angel. I’m a muse. If we don’t get our act together and play our cards right going forward, all of us, including Wesley, could be erased from existence.”
Quickly taking her eyes off Olivier, she leveled them at me ironically. “How is it you of all people are taking this so well? You never meet anything head on and yet here you are trying to convince me to work through and accept the truth, at least as he says it.”
