The Dark Paradise Trilogy Box Set

by Heather C. Myers

  Ten minutes later, Carey walked in, followed by Reese soon after.

  “Good morning guys!” Reese said, perky and cheerful as usual. Normally, Andie admired how bubbly her friend was, but right now it aggravated her to no end. “So I have a huge question. Who are the Fallen Angel and Noir, and what is their deal? My parents kind of explained them to me, but I still don’t get it.”

  Andie glanced out the window while Carey explained. Her pale green eyes kept going to her phone, but nothing happened. It was like waiting for a cute guy to call; the more she stared at her phone, the more likely it wouldn’t ring. It was only when Carey began discussing Noir’s many crimes that Andie started listening again.

  “To be honest, Noir is like an enigma,” Carey said. “No one can figure him out, which is probably why he was seeing Dr. Hawkins. Like, one time he robbed a bank, put the money in a bunch of sacks in the middle of the lobby, and set the sacks on fire. He’s killed women and children, but he’s never raped anybody that we know of. Money and sex don’t seem to hold any sway over him, but he has no conscience. He’s fascinating. Scary, but fascinating. My mom wanted to keep me home from school today, actually, but I told her he’s never targeted schools before and it’s not likely he would, especially right after escaping from the loony bin.”

  “How did he escape anyway?” Reese asked, wrinkling her brow. “He was in a mental ward surrounded by cops, wasn’t he?”

  “Noir is like a magician,” Carey explained. “It doesn’t matter what situation he’s in, he always manages to get out. The only person who has successfully caught him is the Black Wing. As to how he escaped this morning, nobody knows, but they were talking about it on the radio. One of the theories is that he used a hostage to help him escape.”

  “A hostage?” Andie asked, picking her head up. “Did they mention who the hostage was?”

  “It’s all speculation,” Carey said. “He might have gotten out another way. Think about it. If he did use a hostage, the police would have found a body by now. You know Noir doesn’t leave witnesses unless it benefits him in some way, and I highly doubt a hostage, once he has escaped, is of any used to him.”

  Andie pressed her lips together and her eyes drifted to the phone. She wasn’t reassured. She wasn’t reassured in the slightest.

  By the time Andie headed to Phillip Enterprises, she still hadn’t heard from Keirah and it was drizzling outside. She had probably sent her sister a dozen text messages and fifteen voicemails and still hadn’t gotten a response. The longer she didn’t hear from Keirah, the more she looked at her phone. She also started mentally drafting what she would say to her mother once five o’clock came. Should she tell her in person or call her? Should she call Commissioner Jarrett again? She had already left him three messages, but because of Noir’s shocking escape, he had yet to return her calls.

  When she reached the building, she ignored Denise and her passive-aggressive scathing looks, stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to close the door over and over again. She felt tears start to accumulate in her eyes as she continued to jab at the button. Why wouldn’t the damn doors close and why was she crying? Andie never cried. She hadn’t cried when her father left. She hadn’t cried when he married a woman with her own children. She hadn’t cried when she didn’t make the cheerleading squad, when she broke up with her ass of a boyfriend who pushed her into a wall after eight months of dating, when she got her first and only C in her Honors English class sophomore year. Now, standing in an elevator that would take her to her dream internship that she received directly from the owner himself, she found herself crying. But none of that mattered. Her sister was out there, possibly dead, possibly still in danger with Noir, and Andie had no way of helping. She didn’t know how to fix the problem because she didn’t know what the problem was.

  If anything, this was all her fault. Why hadn’t she stopped her sister from leaving last night? Why hadn’t she insisted she come along or make Keirah promise to call her when everything was finished? Why hadn’t she done more? Andie and Keirah had their differences, but they were still sister. And thanks to her mother’s unexpected reclusion, Keirah was the only family Andie could count on.

  “Andie?”

  The soft-spoken inquiry caused Andie to snap her eyes up and then immediately look away. Jack Phillip. Of course. The one time she did break down, it would be in front of him. She took a step back in order to allow him into the elevator, making sure there was enough space between them so he wouldn’t touch her. It was only when he was fully inside and she was trying to discreetly wipe away her tears did the doors to the elevator finally close.

  Before Andie could even comprehend what he was doing, Jack’s long reach pushed the emergency stop button so the elevator jolted to a halt. She looked up at him, her red eyes clearly confused. He was wearing a casual suit—this one blue and grey—and judging by the way it clung to his figure, she assumed it was custom-made. He must have gotten back from lunch with some model at some posh restaurant with paparazzi ready to snap photos of him with his new arm candy for the front page of their website or tabloid. What they really should be writing about was the fact that her sister was not only missing but it might have something to do with Noir’s escape.

  “Are you all right?” His brow pushed up so his forehead was wrinkled, and he looked and sounded like he genuinely cared. It was probably the only reason she didn’t snap some retort in reply to his question.

  “I,” she began. Her voice cracked and she had to close her mouth and swallow in hopes to smooth it out. “I’m not having a great day.”

  She expected some witty comment about her attitude but none came. Instead, he asked in a gentle voice, “Does this have anything to do with Noir?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh and her face softened as much as it could. “But yes.”

  Jack nodded, but didn’t say anything. He continued to stare at her, studying her with that look of sympathy on his chiseled features. She hated that look on his face. He should not be the one feeling sorry for her. She absolutely detested when anyone did because she was happy with who she was and the life she was living. It was hard at times, but it was fulfilling. She bit her lip and her mind told her to calm down, that he hadn’t meant to offend her. That as crazy as it sounded, he really did seem concerned about her welfare.

  It was his fault, really. For some inexplicable reason, Jack’s worry about her caused the dams she had so quickly erected to keep the tears at bay to break apart, and the tears fell fast down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them if she tried. Andie placed a hand on her forehead, hoping to shield him from seeing her; she knew men had no idea how to handle a crying woman and she wasn’t exactly exquisite on the rare occasion she did cry. Add that to the fact that she was crying in front of Jack Phillip, a man she didn’t particularly like, a man she thought was more concerned with the latest up-and-coming fill in the blank, making money, and getting his face in the papers. She was so fired.

  Except, instead of awkwardly patting her on the shoulder and telling her that her behavior was unprofessional and as such, she’d have to be let go, he pulled her into his arms, one wrapped securely around her back, the other cupping the back of her head so her face was buried in his chest. His chin rested on top of her head, holding her even closer to him so she could smell him—a scent composed of some expensive cologne and the night sky.

  “But your suit,” she mumbled. Andie could already feel the pool of tears accumulate on the soft material.

  “I’ll buy a new one,” he replied.

  This caused Andie to start laughing. Truth be told, it wasn’t that funny, and Andie had a feeling Jack wasn’t kidding. But it made her laugh which made her forget about crying. She pulled away and started to wipe her eyes again. His lips quirked up as he released her, his hands resuming their appropriate position in his pockets.

  “What will you tell them?” she asked after a moment, noddin
g at the mess on his shirt.

  He looked down. “This?” he said. “Just that I broke it off with whatever girl I’m seeing and comforted her when she inevitably started to cry.”

  “The sad thing is, they’d all believe it.” Andie placed the tip of her thumb nail between her teeth but didn’t bite down. “Thank you. For that.”

  “Anytime,” Jack replied. “Are you a little bit better?”

  Andie nodded her head, dropping her hand and looking away. She didn’t know why, but she suddenly wanted to tell him everything, like he really could help her figure out what to do. And if the worst had come to pass, he would shelter her in his arms and make her feel as though it would be all right, that nothing could hurt her as long as he held her. This felt like a sucker punch to her gut since this was Jack Phillip and she was definitely not attracted to Jack Phillip. She took a step away from him for safety purposes as he pressed the emergency button so the elevator would start moving again.

  “Andie, if you need to talk to me about anything, I’m always here,” he told her after locking eyes with her. Those jade green eyes seemed sincere but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—believe him.

  “Thanks,” she murmured.

  Andie only had time to drape her blazer on the back of her chair before Miranda practically dragged her across the city to the Spirit Museum, where Jack’s Halloween party would be held. Thankfully for her, Miranda talked without expecting her to respond in any way. So while Miranda gossiped, Andie leaned her head back against the head rest, her right hand in her pocket clutching the phone so she wouldn’t miss it if it vibrated. When they pulled into the two story parking garage attached to the smaller lot just behind the museum itself, Andie flattened her now wrinkled slacks before getting out of the car.

  “So basically,” Miranda said as they headed to the building, “we’re going to rent out the museum from five on Halloween until one in the morning. Since the lobby is so huge, we’re going to use that as the main floor with food, drinks, music and dancing. But we talked to the Director of Affairs and managed to get him to agree that even though the focus of the party will be in the lobby, the other rooms will be left open just in case a couple wants to rendezvous, if you know what I mean. To be honest, I’m not sure if I’d willingly make out in the Middle Ages room, you know? Too much guilt and I’m not even Catholic! Although, I am Jewish …”

  Andie forced a smile, but it was hard to talk about a party when she still had no idea where Keirah was. Before the two walked through the museum doors, Andie’s phone began to vibrate. She didn’t explain or ask for permission to answer, even though she probably should have considering Miranda didn’t know a thing about what Andie was going through. She nearly dropped her phone in her eagerness to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “May I please speak to Miss Andrea Shepherd?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

  “This is she.”

  “Hello, this is Commissioner Jarrett,” he introduced himself. He sounded sweet but exhausted. Andie held her breath, waiting. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to return your calls until now, though I am surprised your mother hasn’t called you.”

  Andie felt the blood drain from her face. She must have looked pretty bad because Miranda’s big brown eyes were looking at her with concern.

  “Why would she need to call me?” Andie asked.

  “It’s your sister, Miss Shepherd,” the commissioner said. “Just after eight o’clock this morning, she was stabbed by Noir before he escaped.”

  14

  Keirah had a dreamless sleep that night. However, it was fulfilling, and when she woke up, she felt surprisingly refreshed. Blinking a couple of times, she yawned, scrunching her nose before finally opening her eyes. Dark hazel orbs stared down at her, scrutinizing her.

  “You’re not going to kiss me again, are you?” she asked dryly, the events from last night replaying in her head once again. She felt her face heat up as she shut her mouth and feigned another yawn.

  “Not unless you want me to, darling,” he said, his voice throaty due to sleep. She scrunched her brow in disgust at the idea and he burst into a fit of giggles. “Yanno, I am glad we, uh, well, I’m glad we did this. You and me … here, hum … together.”

  “It wasn’t like I had any choice in the matter,” Keirah muttered, snuggling deeper into his shoulder.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, princess,” he told her, tilting her chin up with his fingertip and forcing her to lock eyes with him. “I wasn’t sure how you would respond when I, uh, well, when I kissed you, but you didn’t disappoint. Didn’t disappoint.” Her blush turned darker and he grinned in glee at this. “Would you like to know why I called you in?” She regarded him expectantly. “Well, I wanted to know if I felt com-for-tahble enough with you to slip into a hum … a state of vulnerability. As I am sure you were all aware, humans need sssleep. And since I am currently part of this ah species, I need sleep as well. Thing is, I just can’t fall asleep without some sort of security blanket. Someone I can use as a, uh, shield if anyone happened upon us. Someone who wouldn’t try to slaughter me in my sleep. And as I figurrred, you fit the part quite beautifully. Quite.” He leaned in closer, purposefully brushing his nose against hers. “Now, I am going to escape from this wretched lock-up. Oh, don’t worry, don’t worry, my pet,” he said suddenly, patting down Keirah’s hair as though to reassure her. It would seem he had mistaken her anxiousness as worry. “I am coming back for you, of course. You are much too fun to leave behind.” His eyes darkened and his fingers coiled around her neck. They gripped her skin but not enough to choke her. “Let’s go.”

  Noir slid off the bed, his hold on her slacking as he slipped on his old Converses. He stomped down with his right foot and out popped a blade. “Cops are so … fickle,” he explained as he bent down and grabbed the blade. He turned and lifted his brow as he looked at the young woman watching him, still sitting in the bed. “Well, come now. We don’t have all day.” Keirah hesitated, causing Noir to toss his head back and start cackling. He extended his arm and beckoned her forward with a long finger. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he sing-songed, causing a shiver to slide down her back. “Remember, I love you.” Seeing that Keirah was going to be difficult, he yanked her wrist and pulled her to him, clenching his jaw as he did so. “Now is not the time to try my patience, love,” he told her, his voice dripping with venom as he gently traced the blade down Keirah’s cheek. He immediately noticed her frightened expression and he smacked his lips together, his stare dry. “Yanno, it hurts me that you think I’m going to hurt you. It makes me think that you’re asking for it, that you want to be hurt. Tell me, do ya like pain?”

  “You can’t possibly love me,” Keirah murmured dumbly as he turned her body so her back pressed against his chest. His free arm slid around her waist, holding her in her place.

  “I know you want to be a psych,” Noir drawled as he inched the two of them toward the door, “but now is not the time to be hum … analyzing my mental deficiencies. I am trying to escape from here, yanno. I need to con-cen-trate.” He paused and tilted his head down at her. “Now listen to me very carefully, my love.” His voice was just louder than a whisper. “When I, well, when I tell you, I need you to scream, yell, something to get the guardsss attention. Can you, uh, do that for me, doll?” She nodded once and he placed the blade against her throat. “Go-ooo-od. One for the money … Two for the ah, for the show, three to get ready, and here … we … go.”

  Keirah yelped as his fingers holding her waist squeezed her side. She could feel his hot sticky breath against the back of her neck, and she let out a yell, hoping the guards would react.

  They did. The guards burst the steel door open with their weapons drawn but froze when they saw what was before them.

  “Hello, gentle-men,” he said in a conversational tone. “As you can see, I have the bee-you-tee-full Keirah Shepherd in my clutches, and as, uh, as I’m sure you are well-aware, I will not hesitate to slit her
pretty little throat right here. Now, before you ask, I want to walk out of the doors hum ... unharmed. Ya got it?” The guards stood rigid, unsure of what to do. Noir started laughing. “Go on then, call back-up, I know you want to.”

  As the guards did just that, he crept toward them until he nearly reached the doorway.

  “While you are wai-ting, I’m going to take my leave now,” he said, slipping out the door. The guards continued to keep their weapons on him, but made no move to shoot him.

  When he made his grand entrance into the main office of the ward, everybody scrambled to prepare themselves, causing Noir to laugh again. “It was fun while it lasted, everyone. However, my very, very short attention span has reached, well, it’s reached its peak, really, and I felt I should hum … take my leave while we were on such friendly terms.” From the corner of his eyes, he saw a couple of uniformed officers try to sneak up behind him. “Uh, uh, uh.” Keirah could hear the darkness in his voice, could feel his grip tighten on the knife. “Now is most definitely not the time to play hero. That’s the Black Wing’s job, if you asssk me. I am going to walk out those doors with the lovely Miss Shepherd in my arms, and once I feel hum … safe, I will let her go. Bah-bye boysss.”

  Nobody made a move. They just let the pair walk out the door. Keirah couldn’t see Commissioner Jarrett anywhere.

  The brightness of the early morning sun caused Keirah to blink rapidly. He pulled her to the side sharply so the officers wouldn’t open fire on his exposed back, leading her to a nearby deserted alley. He pushed her back against the brick wall, the knife still pressed against her throat. She was scared, but she refused to cry, whimper, or beg for her life. He looked at her, invading her space. She couldn’t help but follow him with her eyes, feeling the tip of his nose caress her face. Without warning, his tongue slid out from his cracked lips and licked her cheek with a loud smacking sound. Keirah cringed as she felt his saliva on her skin, distracting her from keeping a close eye on him. Seeing her diverted attention, Noir took his chance, dropping his hand and piercing her skin with his blade, enough for stitches but not enough for death. She cried out in pain, keeling over so her head hit his shoulder.