Awaken: Book 1 in The Dark Paradise Chronicles

by Isadora Brown

  The humor on Reese’s face drained away as she listened to him speak. His tone was different, serious. She had never heard him sound this way before; it did things to her heart, her body, that she didn’t want to think about. He was talking about when they met at Jack’s Halloween party.

  “She looked at me,” Ollo continued, locking eyes with Reese. “You know that look she gets when she’s studying something really intense, or before she makes a decision about something? Like, once she makes that decision there’s no looking back so she has to be sure?”

  “She gets that from her mother,” her daddy said, raising a glass of white wine and tipped it in her mom’s direction. She blushed—Reese thought it was absolutely adorable that he still had the power to make her mother blush—and smiled.

  “I still don’t know what compelled her to trust me,” he continued, “what inspired her to take a chance on someone like me. Lord knows I’m not perfect, but she believes in me and that’s enough.”

  Reese swallowed and blinked, trying to will away her tears. No one had ever said anything that nice to her before. And coming from Ollo, it meant even more because she knew words like this rarely fell from his lips.

  The moment was ruined by “Barbie Girl” blaring from her cell phone. A loud laugh escaped her mouth at the awkward tension in the room, causing her face turned bright red in mere seconds. She excused herself, heading into the kitchen to take the call so no one would overhear her.

  “Andie?” Reese asked, making sure to keep her voice low. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” Andie’s shakiness belied the affirmative response, and Reese bit her tongue to keep from asking what was wrong. In all honesty, Reese had been surprised when Andie turned down her invitation to spend Thanksgiving with her family, because the last time they spoke, Andie was pissed at Jack. Then again, that was around the time Reese thought Ollo was annoying, frustrating, and a splinter under her skin. Funny how life changed one’s perception so quickly. “Keirah. She’s, she’s back. In the hospital, I mean.”

  “Is she okay?” Reese asked, barely able to contain her happiness at the news. “What happened? How did she escape?”

  “She didn’t.” A pause. “He brought her to the hospital.” Now confusion, on both ends of the line. “Noir brought her to the hospital himself.”

  “W-what?” Reese knitted her brows together, unclear about what Andie was trying to say. “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I,” Andie admitted. “Commissioner Jarrett called me and said Noir was sighted carrying Keirah unconscious in his arms. She’s not dead, Reese. She’s beat up pretty bad, but she’s alive. If he had brought her in minutes later, she’d be brain dead or dead-dead. In fact, they say … they say he saved her life.” Reese wanted to ask questions, but before even one could pop out, Andie cut her off. “I gotta go, Reese. I’ll call you later, okay? Happy Thanksgiving.”

  Reese nearly dropped her phone after hanging up. Noir saved Keirah? What did that mean?

  “You okay?”

  She jumped and found Ollo looking at her with his muddy blue eyes. It was at that moment she realized she didn’t give him enough credit. Those eyes knew more than his lips ever said, and as they continued to study her, she knew his question was courtesy only, because he was already aware that she wasn’t okay. He rubbed his lips together, uncomfortable, still unsure how to handle her emotions when he didn’t know how to make whatever was wrong better. “Wanna go for a walk?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes,” she murmured. “I do.”

  Reese forced herself to walk into the dining room and tell her family she wanted to show Ollo around the neighborhood.

  “Hurry back, darling,” her mother said, waving a teasing hand. “I made pecan pie, your favorite.”

  When they were out the door and on the sidewalk, Ollo nudged her shoulder playfully. “Pecan’s your favorite?” he asked with a lighthearted grin.

  Reese appreciated the effort to make her smile. It was familiar and warmed her insides. “Is that a problem?” she asked, tilting her head up so the sun touched her skin.

  He shook his head. “Mine too,” he said.

  They walked silently for a while. Reese was surprised at how nice it was outside. It reminded her of Beverly Hills, of home … except now, Ollo was her home. Ollo was her best friend and she was the Oracle, instead of just an ordinary girl.

  “Keirah’s back,” she said after another moment. Her eyes were on the ground, her hands behind her back. “He brought her to the hospital. She’s going to be okay.”

  “Who brought her?” he asked, turning his head down to look at her. Subtle lines pinched his furrowed brow.

  She stopped walking and turned to face him. “You know who,” she said. Her eyes captured his. “He brought her there himself. What does that mean?”

  He blinked. “He cares about her.” His tone was smooth and intrigued, but not surprised.

  “Can he do that?” Reese asked.

  “What? Just because he’s an Excom, he’s not allowed to care about someone?”

  “No, it’s just …” She blinked. “I didn’t think he was capable of caring at all.”

  “He was a man once,” Ollo pointed out. “Still is, I suppose. He’s capable of feeling. Just because he’s a sociopath does not mean he can’t love.” He gave her a small smile. “God always knew man would fall. That’s why He gave them the ability to redeem themselves.”

  “Women were created to save men?” Reese asked.

  “Man is a general term that includes every gender,” Ollo clarified. “What God gave us was a choice. Noir could have chosen to let Keirah die. People would expect him to. Hell, he probably expected him to. But he didn’t. He chose to take her to the hospital, where it was likely he would be caught. You chose to believe me, and in me. And I chose to awaken you.”

  Reese felt her breath leave her. “You?” She wasn’t aware she had spoken until he replied. Somehow, she knew he was the one who kissed her.

  “Me.” He wasn’t looking at her now. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the trees that lined that street. “Crazy, hmm?”

  “How?”

  He pressed his lips together, sighing through his nose. He didn’t want to tell her, she realized, but he would. She knew he would. “The way you’re supposed to awaken a sleeping woman,” he finally said. He pressed his brows up, expecting her to understand, but when she continued to stare at him blankly, he let out a frustrated grunt. “A kiss, darl. I kissed you.”

  Reese’s fingers immediately went to her lips, as though she was trying to remember the feel of it. “I thought that was only in fairytales,” she mumbled, letting her hand fall down to her side.

  “Even fairytales have truth buried underneath the fiction,” he responded.

  She hesitated only a moment before asking, “Does this mean you’re my true love?”

  “That’s a myth,” he said, his words precise and drawn out. “We’re connected, darl. Your soul and mine. Do you remember when you asked if Gabe was Apollo?”

  She nodded. “You said he wasn’t,” she said.

  “He’s not.” A beat. “I am.”

  “You?” She looked at him with disbelief.

  “Me.” One nod. “We’re bound together through time. I was the only one who could awaken you and your powers.”

  “Why did it take so long for you to meet me?”

  “I don’t like to say goodbye.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He sighed. “Think about it, darl,” he said. “I’m not good at making friends. After the first time, I promised myself never again. You were the only one I trusted. Whenever you were reborn, I could feel it. In my bones. In the air. I refused to see you. You would never be who I remembered, so I avoided meeting you at all costs and I was doing a pretty damn good job of it, too. So much time passed I started to hope that maybe, just maybe, this war would never happen, that I would never need to see you again. I tried to forget you. I start
ed drinking to help. It didn’t work. I knew it wouldn’t work.” He locked eyes with her. “There’s no forgetting you, darl.” A sad smile. “Then Noir came, and then the Black Wing. It was only a matter of time until Henry came and told me it was time. I saw you lying there, and you were perfect. You are perfect. And for a minute, I didn’t want to wake you up. I wanted you to sleep. Forever. For this lifetime.”

  “Why?” Reese asked. “What could I have possibly done to you?”

  “You died.” His voice was low, soft. “Every war needs a catalyst to start the war and a sacrifice to end it. The last time you were needed, and why you were created, was for the First War, when Hades went against Zeus and kidnapped Persephone for himself. The action awakened your powers. You were the catalyst.”

  Reese inhaled, swallowed. She had died as Seer in the First War? There was a First War?

  “I thought Keirah would be the catalyst after Noir kidnapped her,” he went on. “Either he would kill her himself, or Lucas Burr would kill her as an example. But she’s safe. Because of Noir. She’s not, which means you—”

  Reese reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers with his. “Hey. It’ll be all right,” she murmured. “We have today. What are you always telling me? Enjoy the moment. Enjoy today. Enjoy what we have.” It was easier to pretend she wasn’t worried about the future, when Ollo looked as broken as he did. “We have each other.”

  And then his forehead was grazing hers and his free hand was around her waist, holding her tightly against him. Her eyes never wavered from his and the right corner of his lips curled up. “Be careful, darl,” he said in a low murmur, his warm breath tickling her cheek. “You sound like you care.”

  “I do,” she said, her voice just as soft but firm.

  He said nothing but continued to stare at her, his eyes as inscrutable as ever. And then he squeezed her hand.

  37

  Andie

  Andie got the call before the Italian food Beverly ordered in lieu of burnt turkey was delivered to the manor. Jack was in the shower, but Andie couldn’t wait; she told Beverly about the commissioner’s call. In all honesty, she had no idea when she would be back—if she would be back, other than to collect her things—but told the woman she would thank Jack herself. She would make it up to him somehow, but she needed to leave. As she grabbed her keys and headed to the car, she called both Carey and Reese to let them know what was going on. When she finished, she turned off her cell phone and slid into the driver’s seat before starting the car and driving to Onyx General.

  Jack was the Black Wing. It was the first thought that popped into her mind as she drove and refused to leave her alone until she thoroughly resolved this issue, especially since now Keirah was back and safe. Jack was the Black Wing. She knew it in her gut. Those eyes, so dark and unique; she knew those eyes. It could only be Jack.

  But how? When the Black Wing had carried her back to the manor, she had seen his wings – black and inky, like a painting of the night sky – they looked real, attached to his back as though they were his own rather than a contraption he had built himself. But that was impossible. Angels weren’t tangible beings; they were perfect, graceful, godlike.

  Jack was perfect to her. Looking at him hurt at times, but he had his share of flaws: the small, skin-colored mole on the right side of his nose, the long narrow nose, the thin lips, the thick low brow. Yet somehow, those imperfections came together to create something flawless.

  His actions were much more human than angelic. She didn’t think many angels slept around with beautiful women, spent money on whatever they wanted, and could be kind of a jerk. It didn’t make sense. But she knew, she knew it was him. She didn’t know how or why, but she knew Jack was the Black Wing.

  What did that mean for them?

  Andie clenched her jaw as she pulled into the parking deck. There was no ‘them.’ As much as Andie wanted there to be, she and Jack were business associates and friends, nothing more. He had been with lots of women, most of them more beautiful than she, and none of them lasted long. Jack was twenty-one—or so he said, but if he really was an angel, who knew how old he was?—a billionaire, and a masked vigilante. There was no way he could be in the right frame of mind for a relationship right now, and Andie wouldn’t let herself be with him for anything less than a monogamous, committed relationship. She wouldn’t lie to herself so she could walk on air for a week or however long they lasted. There was also the fact that she wasn’t quite ready for a relationship with anyone just yet. She had to make sure Keirah was all right and figure out her living arrangements.

  No, being with Jack was not in the cards. Not yet, anyway.

  When she stepped out of the car, Andie forced her thoughts to remain only on Keirah. Commissioner Jarrett had been brief on the phone with her, but he was clear about Keirah being in the hospital, that she was safe, and that Noir brought her there himself. Normally, Andie wouldn’t care about Noir’s motives, because Keirah was alive and she’d be able to go home once the hospital released her, but the fact that Noir hadn’t killed her was suspicious. Why? Was this another move in his game? Was he going to come back for her? It made no sense. Why would he risk capture to save her life?

  What if he loved her?

  Andie laughed at the idea as she stepped into the elevator. The notion that Noir was capable of loving someone made as much sense as Jack being an angel.

  No, there was no way Noir loved Keirah. There had to be something else.

  She got off the elevator and was immediately bombarded by police officers who checked her ID at least five times and patted her down twice before they let her go in Keirah’s room.

  Besides her mother, no one was in the room, which caused a heavy silence to hang in the open space. It was odd looking at Judith now. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her eyes were rimmed red from crying. Her cheekbones looked gaunt, like she hadn’t been eating properly, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Her outfit was comprised of sweats and slippers, something she never would have been caught dead in outside the home before. She looked like a worried mother. She looked pathetic. Andie was surprised to find herself feeling sorry for her.

  Judith’s dark eyes, so hopeful, turned to bitter disappointment upon seeing her younger daughter and she had to look away. Andie felt her empathy turn into fury. How could her mother look at her that way?

  “Where’s Keirah?” she forced herself to ask, though her voice came out strained. She refused to dwell on the fact that her mother had yet to ask how Andie had been, if she was okay, what was happening in her life.

  “Emergency room,” Judith replied, her voice clipped. “Apparently she was so badly beaten she had three cracked ribs and bruises on every inch of her body. She’s unconscious. There’s a chance she’s suffered a traumatic brain injury. We won’t know until tomorrow.” Finally, her brown eyes found Andie’s, so cold and cutting that Andie actually flinched. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to see Keirah,” Andie replied, her voice just as firm.

  “Haven’t you done enough?” Her mother stopped, swallowed. She seemed to be having some kind of inner conflict about something, but after her eyes sealed shut, Andie knew she had made a decision. What that was, Andie couldn’t say. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

  “I may not live with you and you might not consider me your daughter anymore, but Keirah is still my sister and I deserve to see her.”

  Judith looked as though she wanted to argue. Andie’s entire body tensed, prepared to fight until her throat was ragged if she had to. Her mother surprised her, however, when she said, “I plan to go home every night at 8:30 and come back in the morning at 10.”

  It was a compromise.

  Andie clenched her jaw to keep from saying anything but nodded once in understanding. She turned and headed for the door but thought of something and stopped. “If something happens, you’ll call me?” she asked.

  “I’ll have someone keep you in
formed,” came her mother’s reply.

  It was odd: driving back to Jack’s, her mind was numb, thoughtless, silent, when on the way to the hospital, she couldn’t sort through the overabundant ideas that streamed through. She wasn’t mad anymore. She wasn’t sad or upset or hurt. When it came to her mother, she just didn’t care anymore.

  The manor was empty by the time Andie returned, which was nice since she needed to be by herself for a while. She wondered if Jack was out as the Black Wing saving people or if it was still too early. She wished the solution to her problems was as simple as being saved by him. She had saved herself so many times in her life that she just wanted to be saved. She didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  But life wasn’t like that, and as she crawled into bed, she reminded herself that God wouldn’t give her more than she could handle. Before she drifted off, Jack’s face broke through her quiet thoughts, a beacon of light through an uncertain void.

  When she woke up, it was dark outside and Jack was sitting on a chair next to her bed. She furrowed her brow, still trying to rouse herself. As such, her mouth spoke before her brain could stop it from doing so.

  “Shouldn’t you be out saving people?” she asked, her voice laced with slumber.

  He chuckled softly and reached out to touch the backs of his fingers to her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, not caring that he probably knew she cared about him. This would be the last time she saw him and she wanted to memorize everything about him: the way he looked, the way he smelled, the way he touched her, the way his eyes watched her as though she was the star he wished on every night.