Chapter 30: Midnight Fever
Main Residence of the Valois Family, Paris.
The main mansion was noisy with ringing phones and the sound of panicked keyboard typing. A giant monitor screen displayed a map of Paris with one red dot blinking and then disappearing at the southern border.
Melynda Valois stood frozen in the middle of the chaos. Her nightgown was covered by a silk robe that was wrinkled at the sleeves, a sign she had been squeezing it repeatedly. In her right hand, a crystal glass filled with scotch trembled slightly, the amber liquid inside rippling to the tempo of her unstable hand.
"Status!" shouted Melynda, her voice hoarse but cutting through the noise of the room.
The head of security turned around, his face deathly pale. "Madam, we lost Master Xavier's car signal in the southern sector. Military police have completely blockaded the A6 toll road. News helicopters reported there is a burning vehicle wreckage there."
Crash!
The glass in Melynda's hand slipped, shattering into pieces on the marble floor. Its contents spilled, spreading like blood.
"Find him," hissed Melynda, her breath hitched. "My son cannot die that easily. Deploy all units. Comb every hospital, every illegal clinic, every rat hole in Paris! Bring him home dead or alive!"
"But Madam, the risk..."
Ding.
A soft notification sound from the satellite phone on the map table stopped Melynda's shouting.
Melynda snatched the phone as fast as lightning. Her trembling finger swiped the screen.
Sender: X
Message: We are alive. Safe. Do not track or I will disappear forever. Wait for news.
Melynda's shoulders, which had been stiff, slowly slumped. She closed her eyes, exhaling a long breath until her lungs felt empty. Her legs felt weak, forcing her to hold onto the edge of the table so she wouldn't collapse.
"Madam? What are the next orders? Team Alpha is ready to move," asked the head of security hesitantly.
Melynda opened her eyes. The flash of panic vanished, replaced by the cold gaze typical of a mafia family. She straightened her back.
"Pull back," ordered Melynda flatly.
"What? But Master Xavier..."
"I said pull back all troops!" snapped Melynda. She threw the phone onto the map. "Erase all traces of our search tonight. Do not let the police or enemies know that we are panicking. Make a press statement tomorrow morning that Xavier is on a sudden business trip abroad."
"But... is Master Xavier safe?"
Melynda stared at the phone screen that was slowly dimming. The corner of her lips lifted forming a thin smile.
"Do you doubt my orders?" her gaze pierced coldly towards the head of security.
"No... No Madam," the head guard lowered his head realizing his mistake.
Melynda stepped out of the room, ignoring the broken glass she stepped on with her house slippers.
"Agatha," she muttered to the quiet hallway. "Take care of that stupid son of mine or I will haunt you myself."
Safe House, Alps Mountains.
The storm wind howled outside, crashing against the thick glass walls with a rumbling sound. However, inside the room, there was only the sound of the digital wall clock ticking showing two fifteen in the early morning.
Agatha jerked awake. She held her throat which felt dry and rough. She tried to swallow, but it hurt. She turned slightly, looking for a water source.
Beside the examination table, Xavier was asleep in a sitting position on a hard work chair. His head rested on his arms folded on the edge of the table, right next to Agatha's hand. His dirty and bloody black shirt still clung to his body, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his tense arm muscles.
Agatha moved her finger slightly, nudging Xavier's arm.
The man immediately jerked awake. His eyes were red and veiny, but his reflexes were sharp. He immediately looked at Agatha, his hand touching the woman's forehead.
"Thirsty?" asked Xavier, his voice hoarse.
Agatha nodded weakly. "Water..."
Xavier got up, taking a glass filled with warm water and a straw. He slipped his left arm under Agatha's neck, lifting his wife's head carefully.
Agatha sucked the water greedily.
"Slowly," scolded Xavier gently. He pulled the glass away when Agatha started choking. "Your stomach is empty."
Xavier placed Agatha's head back on the pillow. He took a wet cloth, wiping the cold sweat on Agatha's neck.
"You stitched me again," muttered Agatha, her eyes staring at the ceiling. "Twice in a day."
"If you stop looking for trouble, I can retire from being your impromptu doctor," replied Xavier while wringing out the compress cloth.
"Where did you learn?" asked Agatha, staring at Xavier intently. "Your stitching is too neat for someone who sits in a CEO chair. Even doctors in illegal clinics are not as fast as you."
Xavier was silent for a moment. He placed the compress cloth on Agatha's forehead, then sat back in his chair, staring at the scars on his own hands.
"You think I was born sitting directly in a CEO chair?" Xavier smiled crookedly, but his eyes looked far away. "After you left me in the sewer fifteen years ago... I could not go home."
Agatha frowned. "Why?"
"My father's enemies were still hunting. My house was watched, the troops picking me up were slaughtered. My father's troop leader who was still alive was forced to send me to a place where no one would look."
Xavier looked into Agatha's eyes.
"Russia. Mercenary training camp in Siberia. I spent three years there. My identity was erased. I was just a serial number there."
Agatha was stunned. "Siberia camp... that place is hell."
"Yes. There, a doctor is a luxury," continued Xavier calmly. "If you get shot or scratched by a knife during training, you stitch it yourself or you die of infection. My instructor said, never entrust your life to someone else holding a scalpel. They can be paid by the enemy to cut your veins on the operating table."
Xavier raised his hand, mimicking a stitching motion in the air.
"I learned to stitch wounds on my own body, Agatha. Hundreds of times. Until my hands memorized the movements even in the dark. So stitching your smooth back... was an easy job."
Agatha looked at her husband with a new view. She thought Xavier was just a rich kid who was cruel because of power. Turns out, the monster in front of her was formed by the same pain as her.
"No wonder you are crazy," muttered Agatha, the corner of her lips lifting weakly. "We are both crazy."
"I am indeed crazy because of you," answered Xavier casually. "That is why we fit, like shards of glass meeting."
Suddenly Agatha's body jerked violently. Her teeth began to chatter.
"C-cold..."
The trembling got worse in seconds. Agatha's face turned blue. Her body spasmed slightly.
Xavier touched Agatha's hand. Cold as ice.
"Damn. Your fever spiked drastically," cursed Xavier. He looked at the pile of blankets in the closet, but he knew it would not be fast enough to raise Agatha's dropping body temperature. "I need direct heat."
Xavier stood up. His hands moved quickly unbuttoning his shirt.
"What... what are you doing? I am sick right now!" asked Agatha warily, her eyes widening seeing Xavier throw his shirt on the floor, revealing a broad chest full of faint scars.
"Sharing body heat. Basic survival method. Do not think dirty thoughts," answered Xavier firmly. "You are shivering, Agatha. Blankets alone won't work."
Xavier climbed onto the fairly wide examination table. He lay on his side next to Agatha, very careful not to bump his wife's back. He pulled a thick blanket covering both of them up to their necks.
"Come here," ordered Xavier.
He pulled Agatha's body slowly to stick to him. He let Agatha's cheek press against his warm bare chest.
"This is... weird," muttered Agatha stiffly, trying to move away a bit.
"Shut up and just enjoy it. My heart is warmer than a hot water bottle," whispered Xavier. He did not let Agatha move away. He wrapped his arm around Agatha's shoulder, rubbing his wife's upper arm up and down to create friction heat.
Skin met skin. Xavier's body heat slowly spread, driving away the cold that bit Agatha's bones. Xavier's strong and regular heartbeat was heard clearly in Agatha's ear, like a soothing lullaby.
Slowly, the trembling in Agatha's body stopped. Her breathing began to calm down. A strange sense of safety enveloped her.
"Xavier," called Agatha softly, her eyes starting to close because of comfort.
"Hm?"
"If you die first... I will kill you," threatened Agatha hoarsely.
Xavier chuckled softly. His broad chest vibrated, making Agatha even more comfortable leaning there.
"I will not die before you allow it, my Wife. Now sleep."
In the middle of the raging Alpine snowstorm, inside the silent room, two humans formed by violence finally fell asleep in one embrace, healing each other's invisible wounds.