Reckless Times: A Paranormal Romance (Paragon Society Book 1)

by Michelle Hercules

  “Excuse me.” Someone approaches me. “Are you taking that cab?”

  “What?”

  “I asked if you’re taking that cab.”

  Quickly, I use my chains to get a read of the guy next to me. He’s an Idol, level eleven, and he seems to have no idea that I’m blind. There’s a car parked on the curb in front of us, probably the cab he’s referring to.

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Pity. I wouldn’t have minded sharing it.”

  Holy crap. Is he flirting with me?

  “Not today. I think I’m taking the bus.”

  “The bus? Wow, I think that’s the worst burn of my life. That’s what I get for trying to pick up someone way out of my league.”

  He slips into the waiting vehicle, leaving me standing there with my mouth open. I’m not sure what just happened here.

  “Hey, are you okay?” a female voice asks.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You look a little stunned.”

  “I guess I’m just confused about his remark.”

  “Oh, the burn thing? Sorry, I was standing nearby and couldn’t help overhearing it. It was pretty harsh, but he’ll survive.”

  “Harsh? Really?”

  “Uh, duh. You basically told him you’d rather take the bus than share a cab with him.” She laughs. “It was awesome. I’m going to use that the next time some loser decides to flirt with me.”

  “What’s wrong with the bus?”

  There’s a pause, and I sense I said the wrong thing.

  “You’re joking, right?” She snorts. “Of course you are. A high-level Idol asking what’s wrong with the bus. Girl, you crack me up. Oh look, there’s another cab coming. Are you taking that one?”

  “No, I think I’m just going to walk.”

  I leave before the random chick finds out that I’m clueless for real. I also dampen my powers, something I forgot to do when I left the house. Masking them is something I’ve been doing since they flourished when I was twelve. I’m afraid of what will happen if people know how strong I am.

  Curious about the whole bus thing, I use my chains to find the nearest stop. It’s a block away. There are a few people waiting, mostly Norms, with a few low-level Fringes in the mix. I’d completely mask my powers, but I need my chains to guide me. When they turn to me, they know I’m an Idol.

  Immediately, I pick up their discomfort and weariness. They shuffle together, keeping their distance from me. I’m aware of the division between Idols and everyone else, but I’ve never experienced it so bluntly. The few Fringes who work for my parents aren’t terrified of us.

  “Can anyone tell me where the next bus is going?”

  Silence reigns supreme, and their fear intensifies. Crap on toast. Why are they so scared? They’re in an Idol neighborhood, for crying out loud.

  “Seriously? No one can answer that?”

  “It’s going to Solomon Market, on the other side of town,” a brave Norm finally answers.

  “Thanks. How long until we get there?”

  “An hour.”

  I hear the sound of a bus approaching. “Is that the one?”

  “Yeah. Can’t you read the sign?”

  “Shush, Austin. Do you want to die?” someone else says.

  I wince at the remark. I’m aware that a lot of Idols are awful, but I had no idea how wide and deep the rift between Idols, Norms, and Fringes was. It makes me angry, sad, and ashamed.

  I wait until everyone boards the bus before taking the steps. But then I remember I didn’t bring any money.

  “Can I help you, miss?” an older man asks—the driver, I gather.

  “Uh, actually, no. I’ve changed my mind.”

  I get off the bus as fast as I can, but I miss the last step and would have fallen face-first against the asphalt if my chains didn’t intervene. It’s a reflexive reaction, without my control, so no surprise, they’re shining brightly for everyone to see.

  I hear loud gasps all around me and curse my stupidity. Quickly, I retract them, making them invisible again, but the damage is done. I have to get out of here.

  “Impressive,” a male voice says to my right.

  I recognize the voice right away, and fear grips me in a tight hold. My chains react to it, forming a protective barrier around my body. It’s a struggle to keep them invisible.

  Without turning around, I say, “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question. I thought you weren’t allowed to leave your parents’ house.”

  “I’m not a prisoner.”

  “No, and you’re not helpless either.”

  “I never said I was.” I force the words out.

  He takes a step forward but stops abruptly. “There’s no need to hide them, Andy. I can sense their power.”

  “Who says I’m doing it because of you?”

  “My mistake. It’s good to see you. How long has it been? Six years?”

  “Not long enough,” I reply through clenched teeth.

  “Ouch. You still haven’t forgiven me, have you?”

  I don’t answer that, knowing he’s baiting me.

  “Either way, I’m glad I bumped into you. I’m looking forward to catching up.”

  Breaking through the fear’s hold on my body, I finally whirl around. “Who says I want to meet with you again?”

  “Come now, Andy. Don’t be like that. It’ll be fun. For old times’ sake.”

  I clench my jaw, trying desperately to control the erratic beating of my heart.

  “Well, I have to go. I’m already late for a meeting. I’ll be in touch, Andy. Real soon.”

  I flinch at the inflection of his last words. It’s not a promise. It’s a threat.

  9

  Stephan

  I should have been more careful with my “coping mechanism,” as Soren called it yesterday. After I lost him in Hawk City’s traffic, I returned to my apartment feeling more wretched than ever. It felt like I had failed everyone. In consequence, I went a little heavy-handed with my punishment, and this morning, my wounds aren’t completely healed yet.

  Now I just have to bite my discomfort and pretend everything is fine. Today is my first day working as a mentor at Paragon Academy, a position created for me. Incidentally, it’s Andy’s first day too. If I had been thinking clearly in the last few days, I would have planned this better. There’s nothing for it now besides sucking it up and hoping for the best.

  With barely an hour of sleep under my belt and a backside that’s still raw, it’s hard to concentrate on what Mr. Redford, the school’s principal, is saying. I pick up random words here and there, nodding from time to time to prevent my eyes from closing.

  “So, I guess that’s all. Nothing has changed much since you were a student here.”

  “That’s what Soren tells me.” I grin, but my attempt at a joke falls flat.

  I had forgotten how serious Mr. Redford was. I can’t complain. He agreed to help last minute, though only because Dad called in a personal favor.

  He flattens his palms on the desk and stands up, indicating this meeting is over. I’d feel sorry for him—it’s not seven in the morning yet—but I know the old man is an early riser. He was probably in the building before the sun was up.

  “You can take Mr. Randal’s old office. Do you still remember the location?’ He raises an eyebrow.

  Of course I remember. Mr. Randal was the teacher who hated my guts and went out of his way to torture me. I spent many afternoons in his office listening to him tell me what an utter disgrace I was. The cause for his hatred was simple: I saved a low-level Fringe from a violent prank, and that didn’t sit well with him. It was no surprise when we discovered he was a Neo Gods’ agent last year. It’s the reason his old office is now vacant.

  Mr. Randal is now a permanent guest of the Knights. Unlike the Neo Gods, who don’t hesitate to kill those who oppose them, we only resort to extreme measures when we don’t have a choice. Besides, Neo Gods’ agents ar
e more useful alive.

  “Yes, I remember. Thank you, Mr. Redford.”

  We shake hands and I take my leave. Once out in the hallway, I fidget with my suit jacket, trying to find relief from the fabric chafing against my slashed back. No luck.

  I look at my watch. I have some time before Andy arrives. What I need is to take off my shirt and let my wounds heal properly.

  With long strides, I head for the second-floor office. I haven’t been here in years, but when I open the door, anger sweeps over me. Mr. Randal occupied this space for almost two decades. Who knows how many people he planned to kill within these walls? As I stand on the threshold, I can’t help but wonder if he was the mastermind behind the explosion that killed my mother and Sabrina.

  Yanking my tie loose, I enter the room, then kick the door shut. I’m glad that at least none of the old furniture remains. The office is almost bare. A single desk occupies the middle, and a narrow bookcase is pushed against the left wall. Before, the walls were covered with Mr. Randal’s accolades. Now they’re plain white. I intend to keep them that way.

  I set my bag on the floor and then make quick work of getting out of my clothes. When the cool air-conditioned breeze hits my skin, I lean against the desk and let out a relieved breath. Fuck. I might have gone too far last night.

  With a grunt, I fish my phone out and call Soren again. He turned his phone off yesterday, so I’m surprised it’s ringing now. On the fifth one, he answers.

  “What?”

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Out. Don’t worry. I survived.”

  “This time. Fuck, Soren. Why do you have to make things harder than they already are?”

  “Bite me, Stephan. I’ll see you at school. Just pretend you don’t know me.”

  He ends the call before I can get another word in. Jackass. Well, at least I have one less problem to worry about.

  While I wait for my back to heal, I fire up my laptop. Might as well get some work done. My job might be a façade, but it’s still a job with tasks.

  I open the email Mrs. Belfor sent me yesterday. It has Andy’s homeschooling lecture plans from the past five years. I’m about to dig in when the door to my office opens suddenly.

  “There you are.” Andy fills the doorframe, catching me by surprise.

  I suck in a breath, not prepared to see her this early. Quickly, I give her an overall glance. I never understood guys’ fetishes for school uniforms until today. But seeing Andy in a plaid skirt, suit, and tie is a kick to my libido. I’m only two years older than she is, but I still feel like a perv. Then I remember I’m shirtless, and my discomfort increases tenfold.

  “Knock much?” I ask, annoyed.

  She closes the door, unfazed, and walks closer to my desk. Her hair is pulled to the side in a loose braid, and that paired with the uniform makes her finally look her age, unlike the sexy gown from the party and the matronly dress she had on yesterday.

  “I thought sneaking up on each other was our thing.” She smirks, right before her gaze drops to my naked chest. “What’s the matter, Stephan? Did I catch you in a compromising situation?”

  My muscles tense. She can’t possibly know I’m not wearing a shirt.

  “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

  I put my clothes back on hastily, hissing a bit when the fabric brushes against one gash that hasn’t healed yet.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Sure it isn’t. Keep your secrets. I don’t care.” She sounds nonchalant, but her face tells me a different story. The furrow of her eyebrows and the tension around her mouth are clue enough that she’s pretending to not give a damn.

  Seconds go by without a single word from either of us. When Andy fidgets in her seat, I realize I’m staring at her full lips like an idiot.

  Get your mind out of the gutter, Stephan.

  Clearing my throat, I sit down. “You’re here a bit early, but that’s good. We’ll have more time to look over the classes and work out a schedule.”

  “I already know what classes I want to take.”

  “Oh, okay. Could you please send th—”

  “I already did last night.”

  Squinting at my screen, I say, “I only have an email from your mother.”

  “Check your spam folder.”

  I scan the messages stuck there until I find hers. “Your email address starts with ‘duck farts and sausages’?”

  She rewards me with a dazzling smile that makes my heart skip a beat. Even knowing it’s a fake one, it’s still breathtaking. Shit. I can’t let my attraction to her cloud my judgment. Fake job or not, she’s a student, and I’m part of the school staff. She’s off-limits. Mr. Redford will have my balls if I jeopardize Paragon Academy’s reputation.

  “No wonder it got caught by the spam filter,” I continue.

  “What can I say? All the other cool names were taken.”

  “Right. Let’s see what we got here.”

  Her email is short, but not without flare. There are a few spelling mistakes when her personality shines, but I take it that was most likely an error of the dictation software she used.

  “You selected the most challenging theoretical classes, but I don’t see anything geared toward your gift.”

  She shrugs. “Honestly, none of them seemed appropriate to me.”

  “Hmm.” I lean back, forgetting that I shouldn’t. I don’t make a sound, but I can’t help the wince. “Besides your chains, what else is in your arsenal?”

  Andy’s mirth disappears at once. “Nothing.”

  I scoff. “That’s impossible. You’re a level seventeen—”

  “Eighteen,” she corrects me.

  “Okay, eighteen, then. Most high-level Idols have more than one gift.”

  “Well, I’m not like most high-level Idols.” She points at her eyes. “Clearly.”

  She’s trying to make me feel bad, and it’s working. But I won’t be manipulated by her. Ignoring the remark, I say, “You could still take Endurance.”

  “Helloooo.” She waves her hand in front of her face. “I’m blind, remember? I can’t take a class that includes running through a field of deadly obstacles.”

  I watch her in disbelief. “Excuse me? You’re the most independent and agile blind person I’ve ever met.”

  “Only because of my chains, and I’d rather not flaunt them.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t want to, okay?” She glances away, crossing her arms. “And I forbid you from going around and saying what level I am. That stays between us.”

  Sagging my shoulders, I return my attention to the roster. “If you don’t want people to know, that’s fine. But you still have to take a practical class. I suppose I can put you in PE with the Fringe students.”

  I expect her to fight me on that—most Idols would rebel against the idea of mingling with Fringes—but Andy’s expression is neutral.

  “That’s fine.”

  “Okay, give me a minute to pull out the updated schedule. Do you want me to prin… never mind.”

  “Good catch there, Stephan. I won’t have to rip your nutsack off… today.”

  On reflex, I press my legs together. She’s more than capable of doing that with a flick of her wrist.

  She laughs. “Jeez, relax. I was kidding. If I were to go psycho on every person who makes an insensitive comment, I’d have a pile of dead bodies.”

  “I suppose objects are fair game though.”

  She shrugs. “Patrick was lucky that only his car felt my rage.”

  I narrow my eyes to slits. “I don’t care for the guy, but what did he do to you?” I suspect she overheard him in the garden, but I want to make sure.

  “He exists. That’s reason enough.”

  Her eyes sparkle with anger, something I didn’t expect to see. Erroneously, I assumed blind people were incapable of showing emotion in their gazes. I already knew Patrick O’Neill was an asshole, but after I overheard
him talking shit about her, my animosity toward him escalated faster than a bullet train.

  “I can’t argue with that,” I say.

  “You’re not a fan either, huh?” She smirks.

  I return the smile, wishing she could see it. “No.” I glance at the time. “If you want a tour of the school, we’d better get going. First period starts in twenty minutes.”

  “So you’re my mentor and guide? What did I do to deserve such an honor?”

  “Keep up the mockery and I’ll let you fend for yourself.” I close my laptop and stand up.

  Andy does the same, hoisting her backpack on her shoulder. “After you, Mr. Silverstone.”

  Outside, the hallways are beginning to fill. Students glance in our direction, curious, scrutinizing. They’re scanning our auras, trying to place us in the Idol scale. It’s the first thing kids do in school, forgetting that it’s the easiest thing for Idols to mask or tone down their powers. Today, I don’t bother with either. They need to know I’m at the top. Well, I thought I was before I met Andy. I’m a level sixteen, and Soren is fifteen.

  But Andy is strangely keeping her powers subdued, which boggles my mind. It isn’t a smart move to appear weak in a sea of sharks.

  Then it hits me. She’s been homeschooled her entire life. She doesn’t know anything about social interactions, cliques, and power plays.

  I’m such an idiot.

  I still have time left to give her some advice before the school bell rings. I’m about to tell her to stop dimming her powers when I spot Soren walking in my direction. No, not walking, staggering as if his legs weigh too much for him.

  Son of a bitch. He’s wasted.

  That’s exactly what I need today.

  10

  Andromeda

  This morning, I had to work extra hard to push yesterday’s encounter to the back of my head. I knew it was just a matter of time until my past caught up with me, but now that it’s here, I don’t know what I’m going to do. But the most important thing right now is to keep pretending. As long as I continue being the salty blind chick, no one will be able to see that I’m screaming inside.