Catalyst: Book 2 of The Dark Paradise Trilogy

by Isadora Brown

  And there he was, sitting on Ollo’s couch, in one of his typical black suits paired with a crimson-colored skinny tie. The only thing that looked worn in was his red Converse shoes. It was hard to imagine anyone being intimidated by a small, slight thing like Henry. He wasn’t even typically good looking, though he did have his qualities. Reese seemed oddly taken with him after meeting him at school. But Henry had something most people did not: real power. He could make anything happen for anyone foolish enough to strike a deal with him, but fail to follow through with their side of the deal, and their life was a living hell. Not through any means of violence, of course, but through psychological warfare. No one was ever really the same after making a deal with Charon, the ferry to the afterlife.

  “You know?” Ollo asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of Henry. Though it was substantially lower than the couch, they were now the same height.

  “When it happened,” Henry replied.

  “She had a vision of it.”

  Henry didn’t look perturbed. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “Losing one’s only family is a traumatic experience. Her subconscious was probably protecting her by allowing her to have some sort of knowledge of the event so she was prepared for it.”

  “She fainted.”

  “Imagine how she would have reacted if she hadn’t known about it at all,” he pointed out.

  Ollo thought for a moment. “When you say only family …”

  “She has no other living family,” Henry explained. “I’ve already taken care of the necessary documents to make you her legal guardian.”

  Ollo felt his shoulders slump forward as relief ebbed through him. Henry’s sharp brown eyes never missed anything, but he didn’t comment on it, and for that, Ollo was grateful. He didn’t think now was the best time to discuss his feelings for the Seer when so much was happening and would happen.

  “Do we know anything?” Ollo asked. “About what caused the fire?”

  Henry shook his head, his wispy brown hair following the gesture. “Only that it was no accident,” he replied.

  “I suppose it could be anyone then. Her mother is—” he stopped, realizing he needed to correct himself, “was a lawyer for the city. Anyone she put away would have good reason to extract some kind of revenge.”

  “No.” Again, Henry shook his head. “It’s too coincidental that it happened when Reese was nowhere near the house, in a place where she couldn’t be reached. Someone specifically targeted her family, either in order to get to her, or in order to take out a perceived threat they saw in one of her parents or brother.”

  “Her mom did work for Lucas Burr,” Ollo said. He furrowed his brows. “But why kill one of his best lawyers?”

  “Burr doesn’t care about the city,” Henry reminded him. “All he cares about is … corruption.”

  “So maybe he killed her family in order to corrupt Reese?” Ollo asked, though confusion tainted his theory. Something was missing.

  “Perhaps,” Henry allowed. “Lespoir is French for hope. Reese is supposed to be the hope. If, however, she doesn’t have any, she can’t do her job as Seer because she won’t believe in herself. And you know how important self-confidence is to a Seer.”

  “Or Burr believed that Reese would blame herself for their deaths,” Ollo tried again. “And instead of throwing herself into being a Seer, it drains her of any desire to fulfill her role. Not only that, but she’s in a vulnerable position now. It wouldn’t surprise me if Burr sent his dipshit of a son to do the corrupting for him. Turn her to their side.”

  The mere thought of Gabriel Burr touching Reese in any way and Lucas Burr using her as a tool caused uncontrollable anger to flare through Ollo’s body. If Ollo had his signature bourbon in his hand, the glass would be broken in pieces, and the amber liquid would be all over himself and Henry.

  “You are forgetting something,” Henry said, locking eyes with Ollo. The god frowned, his mind trying to grasp what he could have possibly left out. “You are assuming Lucas Burr is responsible for the Lespoirs’ demise, but we can’t be certain of that. You have to remember that as of this moment, the culprit could be anybody.”

  33

  It was the beginning of February, and Andie was still getting used to going to school again. Apparently, Tucker Wilson wasn’t that much of a recluse because he immediately informed her teacher she completed the necessary hours required for the internship in a month so there was no reason to attend anymore. Though Aaron Groundling’s arrest was public knowledge and her ordeal had been broadcasted for a couple of days, she didn’t want anyone to catch wind of their previous history together. Wilson probably wanted to save his company’s face, both publically and financially, so he gave Andie outstanding reviews and released her from her position with a promise of a letter of recommendation if she ever needed it. This information was given to her by Sookie Chesterman, Aaron Groundling’s much more amicable replacement, so she still had no direct contact with Tucker Wilson.

  Which really didn’t matter. She had a guaranteed A in the class and could now focus on getting donations for her animal shelter. Her animal shelter. Which meant she was insistent she did everything the right way in terms of starting it up and opening it. Jack kept insisting on loaning her the money, but she refused outright. Instead, she allowed him to assist her with finding a suitable location for the shelter and possible donors to raise a sustainable amount of money for it. When Jack called her from the office to tell her that a meeting was scheduled with one such donor, she huzzah’ed on the phone, causing Jack to snicker and Carey to give her a look as she blocked Andie to ensure no teachers or security guards would catch her on the phone with her billionaire boyfriend, even during lunch.

  Boyfriend.

  The word still caught her off guard and took her breath away. She had a boyfriend. Not that that was in any way surprising since she was such a catch, but because that boyfriend happened to be the man of her dreams.

  Well, technically, they hadn’t labeled their relationship, but it was, in fact, a relationship, and they were together. Exclusively.

  There was still a lot to talk about, however. How soon do they go public? Should they go public at all? Do they actually have to say anything in particular? She knew he kept a bad boy reputation so no one would think he’s Black Wing. Would he have to pretend to still be that person, even though they were together, because she was not okay with that.

  And speaking of being Black Wing, why was he Black Wing in the first place? Could she ask him about it, or were they still too new? Did she even have a right to broach the subject in the first place? Was she supposed to pretend to be ignorant about who he was, or was she entitled to worry about him, and not only worry, but to express her concern? Because she didn’t think she could sit back and pretend nothing was wrong when Jack’s life was on the line each and every night.

  How did someone be the girlfriend of a billionaire who also happened to be a secret vigilante? Who had some kind of technology that could fuse to his back and make him look like he had legitimate wings? How could she be that, and a student, and a sister, and a daughter, and the executive director of her own animal shelter? The latter hat she had to wear this evening.

  Currently, she was in her room in the manor, trying on different business-appropriate dresses and coaching herself on how to behave tonight. If Reese hadn’t been going through what she was going through, Andie would have invited her over for some girl talk and aesthetic advice. She had no experience and she was nervous. There was a reason seventeen year olds didn’t run their own company—for the most part—she had tests and boys and parents and problems she needed to worry about.

  And when did sex factor into the equation? They had been together for three weeks and four days, and while they had had amazing makeout sessions, they had yet to cross that last line. Sex was always a sensitive subject for her. After Aaron … She didn’t want to think about it. About a month into that relationship, he pressured her to keep go
ing and she kept saying no until she said yes just to shut him up. And he took it without being sensitive or gentle or grateful. And she stayed with him because she didn’t know that what he had done was wrong, because in her mind, she could have stopped him but didn’t.

  Do not cry, Shepherd. Just stop thinking about it.

  So sex. With Jack. It would certainly be pleasant. Although, that wasn’t really saying all that much, and pleasant wasn’t the word she thought should be associated with sex. She knew what she was doing, of course. She knew her preferences, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous. Because Jack had had sex with lots of women and Andie had had sex with one man lots and lots of times. She wouldn’t deny the importance of sex in a relationship—it was up there with trust, respect, and a good sense of humor—and what if it wasn’t good between them? What if it was just … meh? He was experienced and so was she, but he had a few years and hundreds of partners on her and—

  “Stop it, Shepherd. Stop thinking about Jack having sex. You have a business meeting you need to concentrate on. And you need to find a cute, professional outfit.”

  She wished Keirah were still around. It would be so much easier to have someone to vent to.

  Andie finally decided on a little black number that was both modest and formfitting. She fussed her hair back into a bun, and just as she began to put on her makeup, a knock interrupted her.

  “Come in,” she called, expecting it to be Beverly.

  Except it wasn’t. It was her mom. She had to do a double-take because of how much she and Keirah looked alike. Her brown hair was pulled back into a decent bun and she was wearing a dowdy business suit. But it was better than the pajamas she wore out. And the fact that she was out of the house in the first place was a big deal.

  “I’m glad to see you have your own room,” she remarked, her dark eyes glancing around.

  Andie’s eyes narrowed. Any glimmer of longing, of missing her mother, vanished. “What are you doing here?” she snapped, with more attitude than she originally intended. She wanted to sound flat, indifferent.

  “I heard Aaron—”

  “That was a month ago,” Andie said, going back to her makeup. She wasn’t good at multitasking in this way, but it needed to get done and there was no way she wanted to give her mother her full attention. Suddenly, something dawned on Andie. She whipped her head around so her eyes landed on her mouth. Her neck pinched in protest. “This little visit isn’t about me, is it? It’s about Keirah.”

  “Andie, listen.” Judith Shepherd sounded desperate, something she never was. Her brown eyes lightened as they pleaded with her daughter. “You have the means now. Maybe we could hire a private investigator—”

  “Means?” Andie said through a hiss. Her eyes flashed dark as she finished her eyeliner. “Means? You think that just because I’m dating Jack Phillip means I can just use his money to find my criminal sister who doesn’t even want to be found? I don’t think so.” She went back to the mirror to start applying her eye shadow.

  “Don’t say that about your sister,” Judith said. “She’s just lost her way. Maybe if I had paid more attention to her or wasn’t hard on her the way I had been—”

  “Mom, she made her choice.” Andie couldn’t help but shake her head, hoping the small gesture would calm her down. Right now, she was nothing short of livid. “Don’t justify her behavior. She is an adult. She knows the difference between right and wrong. Don’t blame yourself for what she did. If you want, I can give you something to take blame for: for neglecting your duties as a mother, for isolating yourself from us, for blaming Dad for everything when half of it was your fault, for blaming me for looking like Dad, and for blaming Keirah for looking like you. You didn’t take responsibility for anything, Mom. And you cannot do the same thing for her. So stop.”

  “This is my chance, Andie.” Again, that desperation. “My chance at being a good mom.”

  “A good mom? If you wanted to be a good mom, you would have been there for me after my ex-boyfriend kidnapped me and tortured me.”

  “Yes, I messed up, but I can be better.”

  “Better?” Andie paused in order to put gloss on her lips. She made sure to look her mother in the eye when she said, “You can’t save Keirah, Mom.”

  There was a tense silence, and Andie went back to her mirror to make sure she looked decent for the evening. She wasn’t too familiar with the complex makeup details, and it was odd to look at the finished product in the mirror. She was pleased with herself, however. She looked quite pretty.

  “Andie,” Judith murmured. For some reason, there was pity in her eyes. Either that, or guilt. “I … I want to make things right between the two of us, too.”

  And that was when Andie snapped.

  “Mom,” she said in an uncharacteristically calm voice. “You kicked me out of the house because you blamed me for Keirah’s kidnapping. A lot has happened in that time, but it’s made me a stronger person. So in a weird, twisted way, you made me a stronger person. Everything is right with us, but I don’t want a relationship with you. I’ve made it this far on my own. I’ve learned that actually, I don’t need you, and quite frankly, I’m better off without you.”

  “Andie—”

  “No, Mom.” Andie turned to face her mom. “You kicked me out of the house. I’m kicking you out of my life. You and Keirah,” she amended. “I love you and I sincerely hope you’re happy. You look good and more put-together than I’ve seen you since Dad left. That’s great. But I have too much on my plate to worry about you. I can’t do it anymore, Mom. I just can’t.”

  Judith opened her mouth as though she was about to say something, to refute Andie, but something stopped her. Andie wasn’t sure if Judith saw something in her look, her eyes, but there was something about her mother that indicated that she finally believed in her. Judith nodded once, but before she left, Andie turned away. She didn’t want to watch her mother walk out of her life, especially when Andie was the one who made it that way. She felt guilt settle on her shoulders, but soon, that would go away. She knew that because along with that guilt came relief.

  Andie allowed herself a moment to breathe in and out, in and out, and then she slid on her heels and headed out the door. She hoped the grey clouds looming over head didn’t signify rain in any sense.

  34

  Noir was gone again, doing some sort of thing that related to whatever plan he was working on now that they had robbed a few banks and killed a few henchmen. She hadn’t kill anyone, of course, but she knew he did; and she wouldn’t lie, seeing him so angry yet so collected turned her on.

  How long had it been since Noir had scooped her up from Underwood Mental Institution? She hadn’t counted the days, and honestly, it really didn’t matter. She was completely content in her current environment, looking forward to the exhilaration her persona, Bombshell, brought to her otherwise mundane life. Life before Noir, actually. Life with Onyx’s most notorious criminal was anything but boring. Even on days such as today when there was really nothing to do, there always seemed to be something to do.

  And there was always the act of making love.

  Keirah smiled warmly, but a blush tickled the tips of her cheeks as she thought about what had occurred only a couple of days ago. And it was she that had initiated such lewd behavior. Well … she didn’t think it was lewd at the time. And Noir hadn’t exactly objected. In fact, it would seem that he wanted it as badly as she did. Keirah wasn’t stupid. She knew Noir got turned on when he killed people. That was why when he shot the henchmen who had been present during the time of her basically jumping him, he had her flat on her back and ravaged her body again.

  It gave her a thrill. It was twisted and demented, but God, it only enhanced their sex life. Gasoline on the already-burning fire, as they say.

  She tilted her head, staring mindlessly at the television screen that was currently playing an episode of The Wendy Williams Show. Keirah got really into the show because it was on at a time when Noir
was out and about while she was stuck in the manor. Ever since the two men who had attempted to rape Keirah while Noir was gone, he had her tag along with his errands, but lately he had wanted her to stay at home while he did things he didn’t exactly want her to know about. To ensure her safety without his presence, any henchman found at the manor while he was away would be shot without question. At first, Keirah wasn’t exactly comfortable, wondering if some of the men would be stupid enough to try and hide from him, thinking they could get away with it, but so far, nothing had happened and she was getting more and more comfortable being alone as the days went on.

  “This just in,” a voice said, snapping Keirah out of her thoughts and causing her to focus on the television screen. Rarely was anything so newsworthy as to interrupt Wendy Williams. “Commissioner Bryan Jarrett of the Onyx police Department has just been rushed to Onyx General pending a confrontation with none other Noir himself. While details are sparse, we here at ONYX Broadcasting have managed to acquire a few tidbits of information, plus a picture of Jarrett as he was being rushed into an ambulance.”

  Keirah felt her whole spine stiffen and her eyes narrowed. He had told her—warned her—that he would kill Jarrett, but she never imagined he would actively seek out the commissioner and inflict harm on him just for the sake of doing so. Noir never worked like that; everything, every plan, was some sort of game. If the citizens of Onyx won, they would not be harmed—until the next game, of course—and if they lost … That was when the damage was done. She knew she was pushing it, but Noir, when concerning the population of Onyx as a whole, only killed people if they lost the game.

  Commissioner Jarrett wasn’t even playing.

  “As far as we know, Commissioner Jarrett was exiting the police station in broad daylight when Noir, dressed fully as is known as his persona, confronted him. Though we do not have an audio or visual recording, a few witnesses have confirmed that Noir said something along the lines of, ‘Well, well, well, Commissioner. I hear you’ve been getting a little too friendly with my girl. You do realize this is unprofessional, don’t you? Have you been punished for this breech in Code of Conduct? No? Well, let me take that honor then, please.’ And then they claim he reached into his blazer pocket, pulled out a knife and started to stab him repeatedly. He stopped after a moment and then slipped the knife back into his jacket before skipping—yes, skipping—away, as though nothing had happened, as though he didn’t just stab an honored police commissioner.”