Chasing Flame

Chapter 3

Phil entered the kitchen to find a small figure sitting on the counter, feet swinging, attention pulled to the book laying open in their lap. It was past midnight, and the only light in the room was from the microwave. Who, in their right fucking minds, builds a light into the bottom of a microwave? The figure didn't acknowledge his presence, but he got the feeling that whoever this was knew he was in the room with them. "Phil Dwyer," the oddly familiar voice claimed in a dry, business-like tone, not looking up from their book, though their feet halted mid-air.

Phil could tell, now he'd stepped closer, that the figure was female, and looked not dissimilar to Renée's daughter Bella Swan. He racked his brain to place her voice. He knew the answer was right in front of him, but he just couldn't place it, the knowledge was just out of grasp. But he'd never seen this person before; that he knew for certain.

The girl was no taller than five foot one, and appeared to be around a hundred pounds. Her face was striking in it's feline nature. If a lioness was transformed into a human, Phil would imagine it to have this girl's face. It was a lazy sort of beauty, with her strong jaw, her small upper lip and larger lower lip that almost made her look like she was pouting, and her silver eyes gleaming with both mischief and intelligence. Her porcelain skin contrasted with the dark brown hair piled on her head in a small bun.

When her head whipped up sharply, accentuated by the loud snap of her book shutting, the girl's eyes locked with his instantly. Phil would've been intimidated by the petite young woman, but he was a little preoccupied with his epiphany, for the girl's voice and appearance had finally clicked into place.

"Charlotte Swan," he said plainly, mimicking her greeting. Charlotte's unbalanced lips split to reveal a grin, jumping off of her perch on the edge of a counter to stand in front of her step father. "Please, call me Charlie." The lithe young lady stuck her hand out in the space between them. Phil didn't hesitate, gripping it in a firm handshake. From this distance, he took note of a pale scar on the side of her neck resembling a bite mark.

There was no doubt in Phil's mind that his step daughter was the strangest twenty-year-old he'd ever met.

"Are you coming to my wedding?"

"Am I invited?"

"No."

"Then why would I be there?"

"As Renée's plus one, dipshit."

She had a point there. But still.

"Do you even want me there?"

"Why not? You're part of the family, after all. I think introducing you to my fiancé would be fun."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Charlotte simply laughed, mirthful, swiftly exited the kitchen, and humming what sounded like Jesus of Suburbia by Green Day. Leaving Phil to turn the lights off before heading to bed, if the soft glow of the microwave clock declaring it to be just past 1 am was anything to go by.

How in the hell was this kid actually Renée's daughter?

Sam didn't get how Charlie could stand it. Paul was the biggest pain in the ass the alpha had ever met, and that's without taking into account when Paul does it on purpose. How anyone could stand to be in the same room with him for more than five seconds, Sam didn't know.

Paul was going crazy without Charlotte, and had bothered everyone else in the pack enough that they'd dumped him on Sam.

"It's only one weekend, Paul."

"I know, but what if she ends up liking Florida and decides not to come back? What if she finds a better guy there and leaves me for him?"

Sam was so done with being gentle with a panicked Paul.

"Charlotte wouldn't have fucking proposed to you if she didn't think you were the one, dickhead."

Paul tilted his head, in a very dog-like manner, and considered his alpha's words.

"I guess so, yeah. Sorry, it's just-"

"The imprint, yeah. I get it."

"I don't know how to stop freaking out."

"Have you tried calling?"

"I didn't want to disturb her."

"She won't care if you disturb her. Normally I'd say don't call right now because of the difference in time zones, but this is Charlotte we're talking about, so she's probably still awake somehow."

"She sleeps better now than she used to. I asked about it once and she mentioned something about living nightmares or something along those lines."

"I'm glad Charlie is finally getting more rest, that girl is way too sleep deprived to be able to function the way she does."

Paul laughed darkly, "Tell me about it."

Surprisingly, Charlotte had actually enjoyed spending her birthday with Renée and Bella. She'd taken her sister's advice to heart, and did her best to act like any 21 that didn't have supernatural related, well, everything to deal with. Charlie's day was in no way normal, but it wasn't the same type of odd she was used to.

And, as much as she was loathe to admit it, she'd truely missed spending time with her mother.

When the other two called it quits and retired to bed, Charlotte decided she would stay up a little longer, if not in anticipation of Paul calling her at some point or another, then to at least meet Phil in person and figure out if he was as much of a douche canoe in person as he was on the phone. He was surprisingly pleasant to talk to, if a little irksome, so Charlie had left the man to his own devices to wait for her fiancé's call in relative privacy.

"Swan family morgue. You stab 'em, we slab 'em."

"Charlie,"

"Dumbass,"

"Charlotte."

"Cunt Waffle."

"I hate you."

"Love you too, babe."

"You're such an ass,"

"So are you. Besides, you called me."

"What the fuck was I worried about?"

"I don't know. We don't share a brain, Paul."

"I was going out of my mind worrying about you today, then the moment we finally talk, you insult me. Fucking crazy asses, the pair of us."

"Could've fooled me."

"Fuck off."

"Nah, I like my life where it is, thanks. You're kinda stuck with me."

"You're lucky I love you."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm lucky you love me, too. Asshat."

"Fuck a cactus, Lahote."

Paul simply laughed in response.

"You good now?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You better be. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight Charlie."

And with that, Charlotte tossed her phone across the room and flopped on her bed. Too lazy and too tired to change out of her jeans and the sweater she'd stolen from Paul's room when he wasn't home, she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.