by P. M. Briede
“So every conversation I have in my house, you listen to?” I reproached him. That was disturbing. It meant he knew the true depths of Wesley’s insecurities.
Olivier shook his head. “I could if I chose to. I promise you I don’t though. Much like my other abilities, I’ve developed control over it throughout the years. I only listen when I want to talk or see you. I don’t pay attention to the words but listen for the sounds. It’s how I know to call you when Breaux’s here so as not to risk him answering. Hearing just your breathing brings me comfort, as I know you’re alright. I almost called you last night when I tuned in to check on you and heard you cry, but I didn’t want to intrude. I know it’s invasive, but with everything that’s going on I listen. If it makes you uncomfortable though, I’ll stop.”
I took a deep breath. “I won’t lie, Olivier, it’s creepy,” I confessed. “Some of your more stalkerish tendencies I’ve overlooked in the past because I know you’re harmless. But this one does actually make my hair stand on end. So please, stop. If you want to know how I’m doing, pick up a phone like everyone else. If you need to be comforted, pick up the phone like everyone else. If you want to talk…”
“Pick up the phone like everyone else,” Olivier finished for me. “Got it, I won’t intrude again.” With a nod and a jump he was gone.
* * *
Wesley’s face popped up on my computer, a huge smile splitting it when he saw me. “God how I’ve missed you!” he exclaimed. We’d only been separated for a little more than a day but I knew exactly how he felt. The fundraiser was set to start in just short of an hour so I’d been surprised to get his text asking if we could Skype.
“I miss you too, darling,” I purred. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
He frowned at my words and I didn’t need him to tell me there was a change in plans. “About that, Charlotte,” he began.
“You’re not coming home tomorrow, are you?” I cut in.
Wesley sighed and scrubbed at his face. “I won’t know until tomorrow. Some representatives from the national committee will be here tonight, vetting our chances. If we perform well,”
He didn’t need to finish. “You’ll be set,” I whispered.
He nodded sadly. “I can still quit, love. I don’t have to do this.” But he did, and not just because of our little exile problem which he wasn’t aware of. This was his dream, so I said as much. “When’s your next appointment?” he anxiously asked.
“Wednesday. I should be issued a clean bill of health then.”
A smile broke out on his face, the first genuine one since our call began. “If I’m not home you think you could come see me next weekend?” A seductive twinkle lit his eyes.
His eagerness to have me back in his bed warmed my body and I bit my lip at the thought of our reunion. But that train of thought dragged along with it another image. “Wesley, is Abigail there for the fundraiser?” The words spilled from my lips before I could stop them.
“Yes, why?” he asked with a confused expression.
I dropped my eyes, embarrassed that I was even going to ask this. It was just that Olivier said the dreams were real. “You haven’t … well … the two of you didn’t …” God, how was I going to ask this and not infuriate him?!
“I love you, Charlotte, and you alone,” Wesley confidently put my fears to rest. I looked up and saw the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping with her. I was just stressed about him leaving and the exiles. My mind must have concocted the whole thing. “You have nothing to worry about from anyone.”
By this time he had to go so we said our depressing good-byes. I crawled into our bed, buried my face in his pillow, and cried myself to sleep.
The next morning, Wesley called and said the national committee was interested but they wanted to see the campaign in action that evening at an event in Dallas. Originally, he’d planned on skipping it but now he didn’t feel right about doing so. Their talking points had been hijacked by some lobby group which wanted guns brought into elementary schools to protect children. He’d tried to quell the disruption, but the lobby had heard about the event from Banks. Wesley was now concerned who Banks would tell about the event in Dallas.
Something about the name struck a chord with me and I asked him what Banks did for the campaign. “Why are you so interested in her?” he growled in agitation which was so unlike him. Wesley never had an unkind word to say about anyone, well, except Olivier, but that was a little different. Banks makes Wesley instantly angry. It just made no sense.
“Lobby groups sound like press secretary business but I don’t recall ever meeting the press secretary or Banks. Is Banks the press secretary?” I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer and instead changed the subject. This hadn’t been the first time I’d asked about the person or position. For me this was evidence enough. Something in my gut told me Banks, whoever she was, was our exile mole.
That afternoon I picked Paige up from the airport and we met Olivier for dinner. I broached the subject of Wesley’s reticence and anger surrounding Banks with them. Neither readily jumped to his defense. This didn’t surprise me from Olivier but it did from Paige. “What do you know?” I grilled. Olivier sat back in his chair while Paige shifted anxiously in hers. Paige had gone to the Houston event with Tristan. She had to have seen Wesley while she was there. I narrowed my eyes at her and asked the question again.
“I don’t know what to say, Charlotte,” she hedged. “Tristan asked me if you two had broken up. He said Wesley was really angry yesterday and refused to talk about you at all. When I said you guys hadn’t, Tristan found it all peculiar. I planned to interrogate Wesley about it but I didn’t even get a chance to talk to him. For some reason, Tristan wasn’t at the same table as the other campaign leads and Wesley spent the entire engagement with Abigail’s hooks in him as they were tailed by a brunette I’ve never seen before.”
My unnerved “Abigail!” resounded at the same time as Olivier’s intrigued “a brunette?”
Paige turned her penitent eyes away from me and focused in on Olivier’s query. “You’re thinking what I’m thinking. Gotta be our exile. When I got back to my hotel room I immediately tried to write down the details of how she looked. I know I committed some to memory but the only detail I could conjure was her hair color.”
Olivier’s fist pounded on the table making our meal skitter. “Damn it! Although, it’s more than we had before.” Sparing a glance at me, he wondered aloud, “Is it odd that Breaux wouldn’t talk to you at one of those events?”
In stereo, Paige and I answered, “YES!” I pounced on the opportunity to be put at ease. “Is it possible that he was escorting Abigail as a favor for Alexander and Regina? She never dresses appropriately for any of those functions and I know they worry about her decision making abilities.”
My heart sank as Paige’s eyes bore into the floor like she was waiting for it to swallow her whole. Olivier’s eyebrows tried to crawl off his face and he apprehensively said her name. “I’m sorry, Charlotte,” she finally conceded. “But I don’t think so.”
And that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks and my emotions shifted gears from wounded pride to outright fear. I tore my eyes from her to capture Olivier’s. “He wouldn’t,” I protested. “Stop shaking your head. You too, Paige! Wesley wouldn’t. I do know him and he wouldn’t do this, it’s completely against his nature!”
“My dear,” Olivier cautiously began, “I hate to be the one who brings this up but you also never thought he’d hide an affair with Paige from you and he did. He’s a successful political advisor, lying comes with the territory. Don’t make this worse for yourself by thinking it’s impossible for him to have played you.” Fire burned wildly in his eyes, expressing his true sentiments, but other than that everything else about him was calm.
“But I do,” Paige squawked at the same time. “I know what I saw. I know what Wesley looks like when he’s into a woman. He’s into Abigail, Charlotte. You think I’d lie about t
his?! That I’d purposely hurt you?!”
I reined in my volume but not my vehemence as I over emphasized my scalding words. “You don’t know him,” I fumed at Olivier before swinging around to glare at Paige. “And you should know better!” Sitting back so I could train them both in my sights, I laughed humorlessly. “I have known him for more than twenty years and there is no way he would ever do this to me. NONE! He’s loved me this entire time, you’ve all admitted as much. No one could keep up a lie for that long.” Olivier opened his mouth to protest but I plowed over him. “Any human. Something’s not right and I shouldn’t be the only one to see it. I’m going to Dallas to see him for myself!” I snatched my purse and bolted out of my chair, knocking it over before careening out of the restaurant.
My commitment at the restaurant was stronger than when I got home and tried to pack. Within ten minutes of being home footsteps raced up the stairs. I expected to see Paige; she has a key to my home after all. But it was Olivier who barreled through my bedroom door, looking battle ready. His voice boomed my name until he saw me crying in the chaise in front of my window with an empty suitcase on the bed.
“Oh, Charlotte!” he cried. “I’m so sorry. I came here prepared to stop you. Would you rather Paige? I’ll call her.” He was rooted in place with his phone in his hand, two steps into my room, looking like he’d just walked into a trap.
Wracked by sobs, I couldn’t answer him right away so I shook my head. My voice trembled as I unburdened all my fears. “I couldn’t do it because what if Paige is right? What if I was just some conquest to him, the ultimate prize that took more than twenty years to achieve? Seeing the proof of that with my own eyes would cripple me. Then on the other hand what if I’m right? What if the exiles found another way to manipulate him? My showing up unexpectedly could end us all. Either way, Wesley and I are over. So which is better? Going and finding out that I’ve been a fool or walking in and getting us all killed. I decided suffering here silently and remaining either the fool or the puppet was the least likely avenue towards an eminent execution.”
I was suddenly ensnared in the strength of Olivier’s arms and the warmth of his chest. “My dear, please don’t cry,” he attempted to console me. “Remember you’re strong. I realized that when I watched you pick yourself back up after Giles’ death.”
“What do you mean watched?” I asked, confused by his statement. “You were there?”
Speaking to me as if I was a child who couldn’t recall where I’d put my favorite toy, he placated me. “You know I’ve been watching over you since you were fourteen.”
I pulled away from him to blow my nose. “No, Olivier. You said you introduced me to Giles to get me away from all of this. Are you now saying you followed us there? I thought you showed me everyone from before. Who were you in our lives back then?”
His neck cracked as he rolled it before sighing and changing. His hair receded and shifted from his brown, curly locks to a wiry gray. His face grew rounder, his eyes sinking further into their sockets, and his cheeks sagging at the jowls. His body also expanded and curved outward. It happened so fast, had I blinked I would have missed it. But I hadn’t and by the time he was done he’d aged about fifteen years. “Son of a bitch!” I cried. Olivier had been our neighbor for the last six years Giles and I had been married! He’d lived right next door; had dinner at our house and we at his. I’d stayed with him the night after the accident until my family had arrived, unable to be in my home alone and unable to be far from it. He’d driven my mother-in-law and me to the morgue to identify Giles’ body and held my hand while I struggled to get through it without crying or vomiting.
“Were you at the bar that night?” I bellowed. Olivier hid his eyes from me as he shifted back into the form he called true. I reached out and clenched his now thin jaw in my hand when he was done. “Open your damn eyes, Olivier. Were you at the bar that night?” His hand carefully encircled my wrist, putting just enough pressure on it to get me to release my grip on his face but not enough to actually hurt me.
“You have to understand,” he began, “my commander had been ordered to get Giles to move with you to Louisiana. I’d been instructed to convince you both it was a great opportunity and that you’d love to live back by your folks…” He was skittish and this was a complete avoidance of what I’d asked him.
“That is not what I asked you,” I interrupted, putting an end to his rambling. “Were you at the bar that night?!” Very quickly the word “yes” burst through his lips but the rest of whatever he’d been about to say didn’t beat my other hand as it struck his face with all the force I could muster. “Get out of my house!” I screamed. When there was not a single shift in any of his muscles that said he was on the way out, I reared back to punch him the way Paige had taught me as I twisted my captured hand out of his hold.
Faster than would have been possible had he been human, both of my wrists were held captive in his hands and pressed against his chest. Given the size of them and the fact that I’d lost the element of surprise, I wasn’t getting my hands back until he released them willingly. When I started to kick him instead, he stood and spun us both until I was pressed against the nearest wall with his thighs pinning mine.
“Charlotte, calm down,” he yelled. “Let me explain. It’s not what you think.”
“You are an asshole and I’m an idiot! Not anymore, get out of my house or I swear Paige will be my first phone call once I’m free! I’m sure we can come up with something to hurt you, immortal or not!” I don’t think I’ve ever been more manic. I now had a better understanding of the phrase “blood lust.”
“Once I let you go feel free,” Olivier guiltily said. “There is nothing in this world that will hurt me worse than seeing you look at me with absolute distain, as you are now. In fact, I’ll call the angels I’ve been working with myself and Paige and you can tell them you know what I am. Telling you two the truth is enough of a crime for my kind to ensure my execution!”
I laughed hysterically. “At least I can see this lie for what it is,” I spat back at him. “Doing so would condemn us also. You’ve said so before that it’s just as dangerous for us now knowing what you are as it is for you having told us.” I stopped fighting him to conserve my energy for whenever my chance arose.
Olivier’s savage breath was hot against my face. “You think they don’t already know? How naïve could you possibly be? They’re angels of God, Charlotte, omnipotent God! There’s a reason we haven’t already been set ablaze. We still have a purpose to fulfill. When this is over, I know my time is up, it’s the deal I made! Paige and you will have your memories wiped of it, a perk of the fire, remember? Any knowledge of my existence gets erased as if I’d never been here. There’s no reason to burn you as well.”
A very miniscule part of me cringed at the image of him tied to a stake with fire consuming him. But the rest of me told that part to buck up as this man had played a role in the death of my husband. “That could be a lie as well,” I spat. “Hell, my original translation of what you are could still be right, a demon from the depths of Hell! You’ve given me nothing as hard proof that you’re an exiled angel. You’ve shown me enough to know you’re not human but everything I know about angels and exiles I got from you. I trusted you on blind faith but you murdered my husband to drag me back into this. I’m done, Olivier! There isn’t anything you can possibly say that I will believe now.”
“I was there tailing my commander,” Olivier attempted to explain. “They’d ordered me to kill Giles but I couldn’t and not only because of you. He was a decent man. It’s why I chose him for you. I was walking in as the driver and a woman were walking out. At the time I didn’t know she’d encouraged the driver’s inebriation and set him on collision course with Giles, killing them both. She’s gutless and doesn’t like getting her hands dirty.” Everything about him was tense as he confessed to his part to play. Regardless of the fact that he hadn’t put the keys or the drinks in the driver’s hands, he c
ould have stopped it. Knowing they wanted to kill Giles, he should have seen it and stopped it. In my book he was just as culpable.
“She?!” I hissed. “Has it never occurred to you that your commander from before is the mysterious exile mole in the campaign?” And he said I was naïve!
Tilting his head back, Olivier glowered at the ceiling. “Of course it has!” he hollered. “But just like now she was shrouded. Back then I never actually met her. Until the ball we’d never had a face to face conversation. I forced the issue by insisting on a meeting or I wouldn’t follow orders. Anyone else and they would have been set aflame. Since it was me, and only I have ever successfully turned you from your collision course of destroying their well laid plans, they didn’t.”
“If they hadn’t invested so much time and energy into Breaux, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, because we’d all be gone,” he continued. “That’s exactly how vital to their plans he is. The only reasonable explanation I can come up with for not eliminating you is that doing so at the time would have incapacitated him. A useless tool is as bad as a lost one and both weren’t options they were willing to take, even though it was their constant threat to me. This is the closest they’ve ever been to creating so much chaos that hopefully the angels will be so busy dealing with the human outbreak that they won’t notice the banished and exiled uprising. Unfortunately, I figured that out too late and it wasn’t worth telling you because I didn’t want you to think you were fighting a losing battle. This entire time I thought I could stay one step ahead and outmaneuver them to keep you safe but since the night you burned, I’m quickly becoming aware that I am miles behind.”
It was all too much. I’d finally reached my limit of what I could reasonably comprehend. My mind started shutting down and was frantically trying to explain away every impossible thing he’d ever shown or told me. The overload sent my heart racing and I could feel my eyes trying to roll back into my head. Fighting the compulsion to pass out, I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. “All that may be the truth, Olivier,” I conceded, regaining a modicum of composure. “But I can’t put my faith in it anymore and I can no longer put my faith in you. I’m begging you because you’re the stronger of us, please let me go and get out of my house.”
