Smoldering Embers

Home > Other > Smoldering Embers > Page 23
Smoldering Embers Page 23

by P. M. Briede


  My questions and demeanor fascinated him. “Slow down there, dear. Yes, you have seen my true form as it 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 that 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 that 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 really ashamed to say this, I stunned him and once the performance was over, gave him the memory of it.”

  “How do you change?”

  “You’d probably call this talent shape-shifting. It shouldn’t be surprised that it was a gift from the Father of Lies. It’s handy when trying to interact with you, as I can be many people to you and use them all to convince you to do as I wish.”

  My questions answered around our past, I could no longer keep from asking about the fire he had once longed for but now wanted to avoid. “What would happen to you if you were sentenced to those flames? 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.”

  “Given all that you’ve suffered, I can understand why you once longed to feel nothing versus the constant pain you must carry around with you. But twice now you’ve said you strive to avoid that consequence. Why?”

  “I told you. You. 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. I quit seeing myself as a victim, instead seeing the justice of God’s verdict.”

  It bewildered me that I could hold this much sway over a being who’d been around, literally, forever. “How does a girl, all of fourteen years old, accomplish all of that? Seriously, Olivier, it’s no wonder kissing you made me uncomfortable. You’re millions of years older than I am!” I wasn’t really sickened though, for some reason our age difference didn’t really seem odd. My goal had been to deflect the attraction that was stirring in both of us due to his revelation of the influence I had on him.

  He didn’t laugh as I’d hoped, but 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 Sam. 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 was what started it all, but as the years passed it had less to do with what you are and more to do with who you are. You have the purest heart of anyone I’ve ever encountered, and that’s saying something.”

  Muse? What the hell was he talking about? He said that so off the cuff, like I was aware of it somehow. “Excuse me, go back a bit. I’m a what?”

  “A muse. 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?” 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, but it goes beyond artistic inspiration. I’ve seen it before, Charlotte, but it’s extremely rare. Typically, a muse inspires the talents that are latent 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. For me, it was my desire to feel again, to matter, and to love. For Paige, it’s her protective and nurturing nature. For him, it’s his yearnings to change the world, but while his intentions are admirable not all of his methods are. Yet, no matter the method, you unconsciously encourage him to pursue it if he feels it’s remotely beneficial.”

  “Muses are scattered throughout history and the most powerful always end up drawn into politics. Behind every great leader is a right hand helping to carry the load. No one does anything alone. However, in the most negatively world altering scenarios, a muse is also in the mix. Caesar had Mark Antony whose muse was Cleopatra. Hitler and Chlodwig Schulz, who helped construct the Holocaust, had their muse, Heinrich Himmler. More recently, bin Laden’s and Rostom with their muse al-Fawwaz. Of those groups, which names are familiar to you?”

  I took a moment to think through everything he’d said. I knew the ones I recognized. “Caesar, Antony, Cleopatra, Hitler, Himmler, bin Laden, and al-Fawwaz.”

  “Good, the first group was the only one where you know about everyone. And if you research the other names I gave you, you won’t find anything about them. They were actually more dangerous than Hitler and bin Laden since they were the driving force behind the destructive passion. For that reason, they were burned. After the chaos that ensued when Rome fell because of the antics of Caesar, Antony, and Cleopatra, the decision was made that mortals could be evil 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 these men he’d mentioned. He’d never hurt anyone.

  “We don’t know Charlotte, but the two of you together are potentially a 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 Wesley. 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. I was so afraid I’d failed when you collapsed and I saw what was happening.”

  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.

  His voice was compassionate. “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 mon
itor sounded an alarm and the nurse came tearing into the room. “Mr. Cheval, I’m sorry but I think you need to leave. I’ve let you stay longer than the doctor allowed because of Mrs. Charlotte’s insistence. The monitor is showing that she is severely distressed.”

  “Please, it has nothing to do with Olivier. Please let him stay. It’s the pain medication, I think it’s starting to wear 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 his 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 him 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 m. Once she got Olivier’s word that he would retire the room when I was asleep she went to get the doses of medicine. 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 that 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 that 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 great, he needs you in some form or another. They put a lot of plans 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 his sphere. The last outcome they were expecting happened though. He turned them down. So the only option they had left was to kill him. The exiled angel you heard me talking to was the one charged with getting you back to New Orleans, and Breaux, 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? It was an accident, a drunk driving accident.” Olivier explained that it was a well-planned and orchestrated murder where the angel 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.

  “But what no one was expecting was a romance between the two of you. The exiles were told that you were needed for inspiration so Breaux would move forward. When it became obvious to everyone that he 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 a Principality and Dominion. They couldn’t offer me redemption or forgiveness, but they offered me the opportunity to protect you. They told me that an exile was masquerading among those with influence over Alexander and Breaux. I trusted 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.”

  “Somehow, this exile has been able to mask her identity. Typically we all can recognize each other for what we truly are. While I know that she’s there, know that I’ve seen and spoken to her, her face will not commit itself to my memory. If I can figure out who she is, they’ll condemn her instead of you, and possibly Wesley. 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 being erased from existence. “How do I protect him?”

  Defeat, resignation, and fear warred across his features. “Charlotte, I don’t know if you can. I’m assuming that the ring the hospital thought was mine is his?” I nodded. “Is it still your wish to marry him?”

  The answer to that question was now more complicated. I was still in love with Wesley and thoughts of him warmed my soul and increased my heart rate. Because of this though, it made his deceptions cut that much more deeply. He was having an affair with Paige and he’d proposed to me without mentioning it or the national campaign. Was he the man I thought I knew? “I can’t answer that yet, Olivier, I have to talk to Wesley and I’m honestly dreading doing so. But even if I don’t still want to marry him, I don’t want to see him eradicated.”

  “Of anyone, I can empathize with that sentiment.” His voice was soft as he continued speaking. “The best way won’t be the easiest for you, Charlotte. 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 right now. 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.

  About The Author

  P.M. Briede is the author of the Charlotte Grace Series. She began her writing career as a self-published author after being a longtime fan of other authors she learned were self-published.

  P.M. Briede is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas but did attend college at Louisiana State University spending five years in Baton Rouge and New Orleans. She currently resides in Boise, Idaho with her husband and two sons, where she is at work on her next book.

  If you are interested in receiving emails when she releases new books, please sign up for her email distribution list by emailing her at: [email protected]. Also friend on Facebook at http://facebook.com/pm.briede

  Acknowledgements

  To my wonderful, loving, and supportive husband who asked no questions when I started this adventure and was keeping everything under lock and key.

  To my dear friend, Lesli, I couldn’t have done this with any confidence if not for your encouragement and excitement around the whole project.

  To my family and friends, thank you for being the inspiration for so many of these wonderful characters.

  To my first readers and friends, Tara, Becca, and Natalie, thank you for caring about these characters as much as I do.

  Also by P.M. Briede

  THE CHARLOTTE GRACE SERIES

  Smoldering Embers

  Wild Fire (Release Early 2014)

  Ashes (Release 2014)

  COMING SOON: THE EMPATHY DELACROIX SERIES

&nb
sp; Email me at [email protected]

  Facebook at http://facebook.com/pm.briede

 

 

 


‹ Prev