Smoldering Nights (3 page)

Chapter Three

Michel

They were here. They found me.

I couldn’t believe the drastic changes in the past few minutes. In one moment, I was kissing the woman I’d wanted for months. The next, my former comrade blew up both my fantasy and my club. Now I was on the cold streets of a New England night rather than in the arms of a sultry woman.

“I told you I would one day come,” Ricard said. “You owe me for what you’ve taken from me.”

We circled each other, ready and waiting for the other to pounce.

“You still blame me for her death?” I asked. “I’ve explained many times before.”

“It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t bring her back!”

“I lost someone too. How many more lives must we lose?”

Worried about Nike, I glanced over to the blown-out wall, which was a mistake. It was enough to set Ricard off.

“There’s someone in there you care about. I can feel it.” He took a sniff of the air around me. “I can smell her on you. Perhaps if I go in there and take her life it will make me feel better about my Marie?”

A fury arose in me I hadn’t felt since my days as a soldier on the battlefield. I howled as I leaped onto Ricard, ready to tear him limb from limb to protect Nike.

The other guy, whoever he was, jumped in. The three of us rolled on the ground, punching one another, slamming one another into the concrete and gnashing one another’s flesh with our teeth.

Nike

I took a moment to assess the madness of the scene around me. When I had left the room not so long ago, people were relaxed with drinks or letting loose on the dance floor. Now they were pushing one another, screaming, panicking from the effects of the blast.

The back wall was blown out and a fire had swallowed up a small bar in the back, feeding and fueling off the alcohol.

“Everybody stay calm and make your way to the exits,” I said.

If anyone heard me, they didn’t take notice.

“Don’t push. Just move,” I said.

The frantic crowd just bumbled over one another, not knowing where to go.

I jumped on the bar near where I had met Michel not too much earlier. Then I gave an ear-piercing whistle such as I haven’t done since I was a teenager.

This caught the attention of a few people closest to me.

“Listen up. The safest exits are that way,” I said, pointing to the exits closest to the front of the club. “Move quickly, but don’t push and don’t panic.”

While a few of the clubgoers started moving toward the exits, I guided them by pointing in the right direction. The more people who followed in the direction, the more the crowd seemed to move with them rather than in freakish circles that got them nowhere.

Maya appeared in the crowd below me.

“We need to hustle,” she said. “The fire’s spreading quickly in the back and there are a few people who are unconscious. We have to get them out.”

I followed Maya closer to the fire, staying low and holding my breath to avoid the smoke. Though I’d entered buildings to fight fires many times in the past, I always had my mask and gear. Here I was baring an awful lot of skin in a little dress. I felt naked. Although not so exposed as when I first spoke to Michel earlier that evening. It had only been a short while ago, yet now it seemed like ages.

Michel. Was he okay? Who were those guys and what did they want?

I worked with Maya to pull the first woman away from the flames. We had worked together for so long we didn’t need words to communicate.

I couldn’t tell if she was just unconscious or worse, but I focused on getting the woman away from the immediate danger.

The heat from the growing flames reminded me of the sensation in a sauna when you’re in there too long and suddenly want out. Although in a sauna, you’re meant to relax, now I was focused on survival. I thought again of Michel facing those two men on the other side of the flames. A big part of me wanted to forget about these strangers and run out to make sure Michel was okay, but I’d been a firefighter for seven years now and all the years of training and experience won out. I’d have to get these people out and then go find Michel.

We went back for the second woman, and finally, the man. Once the three were away from the flames, I put one woman over my shoulder while Maya put the other woman over her shoulder and we carried them out the front exit to safety.

Although we’d practiced this carry dozens of times, we never had in constricting clothing and spiked heels. Adrenaline provided the kick to move quickly and overcome the problem of the balancing act.

Luckily, most of the crowd had moved out that way and there were only a dozen or so people left impatiently trying to file out the exit. But they created a bottleneck as they tried to push through at the same time.

“Don’t push, people, or we’ll never get out of here,” I said.

“One at a time, quickly, let’s go,” Maya said.

Just as I made my way through the front door and out to safety, I inhaled a giant whiff of fresh air. I placed the woman safely away from the building and resisted the urge to run to Michel. I willed myself against the survival instincts to rush back into the burning building to get the last person in there.

“I’m right with you,” Maya said, catching up.

By this time the flames had spread to walls adjacent to the back wall and they were quickly blazing their presence across the night. What was once confined to one section of the back wall was now a panorama of flames. Although the smoke was thickening, the roaring sunset colors were vivid through the haze.

I fully admit I was scared. No, terrified. I wanted to go for the guy and then get the hell out. And most of all, I wanted to find Michel.

The smoke was making it difficult to see the guy, but I remembered where we’d left him. Once we found him, we quickly maneuvered him so we could hoist him out in the fireman carry.

“Got him?” I asked.

“Got him,” Maya answered. “Let’s go.”

I heard sirens come closer. “’Bout time,” I muttered.

The firefighters arrived just as we had the guy out near the two women. I was grateful my firehouse was in another town so I hopefully wouldn’t be recognized in my current outfit.

“An explosion took out most of the back wall. The flames started there, but they’re spreading toward the front. I think we have everyone off the main floor.”

“Check the bathrooms,” Maya added.

“And there might be some other rooms upstairs,” I added.

“We got it,” one said, and they ran into the club. Michel’s club. Or what was left of it.

Michel.
I ran around the back to find him. If he was still there. And if he was still okay.

I ran to the back of the building where the wall had been blown out, but I didn’t see anyone. On the ground, I saw dark drops of what I presumed was blood. Swallowing the panic I felt rising in my throat, I looked around for any more blood.

I saw more drops, spread randomly, but if I looked at the whole picture I could see which way they led. Following them down the block and down a side street, I found them.

When I saw the three men locked in battle, fists pounding hard blow upon one another, I screamed, “Stop!” Michel looked up at me, his eyes red and blood dripping from fangs.

Fangs?
The only thing I knew had fangs were vampires. But vampires weren’t real; they were a myth, a scary tale to explain mysterious occurrences. I didn’t believe in the supernatural; I was a rational woman. Most of the
mysterious
fires I’d come across in my line of work ended up being explained by a logical chain of events.

But what other explanation was there in this case? What other creature had fangs? What else could he be? I couldn’t think about it now.

“Nike, get away from here,” Michel said. “Now!”

The large man with long, dirty-blond, wavy hair let go of Michel and turned toward me.

“Nike, is it?” he said, sneering. “So you’re the one who has Michel all riled up? I wouldn’t believe he’d have feelings for a human if I couldn’t sense it myself.”

I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand. The smaller, darker of the two men, or whatever they were, had turned toward me too. His red eyes glared and a hungry, beastlike presence emanated from him. This one didn’t say anything. Could he even talk?

“Let’s see what this little human has that has Michel all wound up. Let’s find out what she feels like.” He took a sniff in the air. “And find out what she tastes like.”

I turned back and ran as fast as I could in the direction I had just come from. I heard a laugh and a roar and could hear their feet pounding on the pavement behind me.

“Leave her. Your quarrel is with me,” Michel yelled, and I heard a thump.

Despite the terror I felt, I turned back to see what happened with Michel. He had jumped on the blond one and they were rolling on the ground. The dark one joined in.

I ran toward my car, parked on Spring Street. I thought about Maya back at the club. The acrid smell of smoke and fire permeated the air around me. More fire trucks had arrived. Maya would be all right, I figured, she was probably still helping out. I’d get in touch with her later.

When I reached my Mini Cooper, I turned the ignition and slammed my stiletto boot down on the accelerator as I drove back to find Michel. Only moments had passed, or was it minutes? I’d lost track of time.

There he was, still fighting them both.

“Michel,” I yelled. “Get in.”

It took Michel a moment to realize what was happening, but then he leaped so quickly from their grasps that I wasn’t sure how it happened. Within an instant, he was in the car beside me.

“Gun it,” he said.

They both realized what had happened and redirected their attention onto us.

I pressed my foot on the gas as Michel grabbed the steering wheel and drove straight toward them. I was speechless as the car approached them at fast speed. When we hit the men, the crash sounded like metal banging against concrete, not human flesh.

“Oh my God! Did we kill them?”

I looked in the rearview mirror at the men, now lumps on the ground.

“Not by a long shot. Come on, let’s get out of here before they recover.”

Sure enough, they were getting back to their feet. I resumed control of the steering wheel, pressed on the gas again and sped around the corner to the on-ramp to the highway.

“Where should we go?”

“Not your place,” he said. “It won’t take long for them to figure out who you are and where you live.”

“Oh God!”

“Get over to Route 95. We’re going up to Maine.”

“Maine? Why Maine? What’s there?”

“I have a friend who has a place up there. It’s secluded. We’ll be safe.”

As I drove, I took some more deep yoga breaths to try to refocus and calm down. How many times had I done that already tonight? First, reining in my feelings for Michel. And now—with this?

I had so many questions, I didn’t know where to start. For several minutes, we drove in silence. I focused on the best route to get over to Route 95 while I sorted out my questions.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“Old friends. We had a falling out a long time ago.”

“How long?”

“Very long.”

Michel may be strikingly hot and all, flaming my desires, but I didn’t have time for games. “Listen, buddy, I just saw a wall blow up, a man whom I was kissing sprouted fangs and jumped out a window, and now two men, if they even are men, are after me. So cut the crap. Who are you? No, what are you? Why are they trying to kill you? And what the hell is going on!”

Michel didn’t answer right away. I glanced in his direction and noticed him clench his jaw slightly.

“What I’m about to tell you is confidential. I don’t know you well, but I sense I can trust you. Will you swear to keep this a secret?”

I debated whether I should trust this guy and guard his secret, whatever it was.

Then I answered. “Yes.”

Without looking in his direction, I could tell he had relaxed in the passenger seat; all the tenseness he emanated moments before disappeared.

“My name is Michel Camard and I was born outside of Paris in 1763.”

“Excuse me—did you just say the seventeen hundreds?”

“Yes. Please let me continue. I haven’t told a human my story and I think it will be easiest if I tell it in one go. You can ask me questions after.”

Human? Was he not human, I wondered. But I said, “Okay.”

“Your history books tell you about the French Revolution, but they don’t explain how it actually felt to live through that time. It was chaotic, thrilling, terrifying, exhilarating and hypnotic. I have not experienced an era like that since.”

Although questions swarmed my mind, I was unable to formulate any words and didn’t want to interrupt the story.

“I served in a militia back then. One day we were warned of an attack upon our village. I led my men to counter the charge before they reached our village. We fought them most of the day. We lost many men, but we managed to fend off the attack and they retreated.