Catalyst: Book 2 in The Dark Paradise Chronicles

by Isadora Brown

  “Say something.”

  Reese blinked and looked back at Ollo. He really was beautiful, in a rough-around-the-edges kind of way. Color fleshed out his skin, and his eyes were brighter now that he’d stopped drinking. He wasn’t as brash or lacking focus; he had passion and a thirst for life that she hadn’t seen, ever. It made her stomach squirm and her insides transform into melted gold. How was he so flawless with all of his imperfections? It had to be some kind of superpower.

  “Darl,” he said, then amended it to, “Reese.” He sat across from her around their man-made fire pit, but somehow his voice made him seem closer to her. More intimate. “You have to tell me something. Anything regarding this matter. Please.”

  Please.

  Ollo never said please. And then she noticed the desperation he kept so well from his voice come out in his eyes like the glow of the moon behind those dark purple clouds. He needed some kind of lifeline from her. The situation felt different, since she was always on the receiving end of it from Ollo. And now this was her opportunity to be there for him. Except, if she was completely honest with him, if she opened her mouth to speak, she had no idea what would come out. What did he want her to say? What could she say when she, herself, had no idea what she wanted? She knew how she felt about him—anyone could tell if they looked—but she didn’t know if she wanted to be with him right now. If it was the right decision to be with him right now. She had to be a seer in this war. She had to be a kind of savior, on top of being a student, a junior varsity soccer player working to get on the varsity team, a daughter and sister trying to protect her family, and, on top of all that, she had to learn archery and actually get good at it. To add a relationship on top of that would be….

  And would Ollo even want to be her boyfriend? She wasn’t the type of girl to just lay her heart on the line when she liked a guy. Would he be willing to be monogomous just to be with her? Would he be willing to put up with her dad’s icy glares, her mother’s innocently flirtatious compliments, and her brother’s deadpan sarcasm? Would he take her out on a date and compliment her? Would he hold her hand and offer her his jacket? Would he kiss her like he meant it and take her dancing, even though he didn’t like dancing and she wasn’t good at it?

  “I—”

  She was an all-or-nothing girl. If she allowed herself to be with him, really be with him, he would become her first priority. She would drop everything if he just said her name. She would risk everything just to ensure his safety. And that meant her job as a savior was compromised because the minute she said something, the minute they acknowledged that they wanted to be together, the world and the people that made up the world would take a backseat to him.

  His eyes remained desperate. He didn’t even try to hide it from her anymore. He needed some sort of response from her, and she would give it to him. He deserved that much from her. So she picked up her pride, took a deep breath, and locked eyes with the man in front of her.

  “I’m in love with you, Ollo,” she told him, her voice more serious than tender. “And it’s crazy, because I was never supposed to fall in love with you. You don’t shave, or shower that often, you drank more than you spoke, you were either bossing me around or being sarcastic. And you gave me that ridiculous nickname—‘darl.’ I still have no idea what it means. To me, it just sounds like you’re too lazy to say darling.” She paused, realizing she was getting off the subject. “But then I saw you on your hands and knees, throwing up in your toilet bowl, and….” She shook her head, still in disbelief. “And I lost it. I fell for you a little. No one has ever done something like that. I’m not saying you got sober for me; you did it because it was the right thing to do. And I’ve never met a guy who has put the right decision above himself. Ever. And then I got to know you. The thing is, you frustrate the eff out of me. But that’s who you are and I love you for it.”

  Even though she paused, Ollo chose to remain silent. She wasn’t sure if it was because he knew she wasn’t finished yet or if he was giving himself some time to let her words sink in. Either way, she was grateful for the opportunity to catch her breath and collect her thoughts.

  “But I don’t think now is the right time for us to be together.”

  The minute the words were out of her mouth, she knew—she knew—she wanted him. She wanted to be with him. It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t be selfish and keep him. It wasn’t fair that she had to step into a role she never asked for and assume all the responsibilities that went along with it. All she wanted was to be with Ollo, and he was the one thing she couldn’t have. At least, not yet. She clenched her teeth together to keep her tears at bay. She refused to cry again simply because life wasn’t fair.

  Ollo licked his bottom lip and looked down. He was resting his forearms on his thighs, his fingers interlocked in a loose embrace. How was he so quiet? Why was he so calm? Unless she simply misread the signs and he didn’t feel the same way about her. Which meant she ruined everything between them and how could they work together now that there was a black hole between them sucking up where there once was—

  “But we do get together,” he pointed out, meeting her stare with his. They weren’t desperate anymore; if anything, they had determined resolve in them. “At some point in the future. At least sexually. And based on your observations, it happens more than once.”

  Reese nodded once. “Yes,” she agreed.

  “So it will happen,” he continued. “Because we can’t change what happens in your visions.”

  “Right.”

  “So it’s all a matter of waiting for the right moments.” He emphasized the ‘s’ in moments.

  “Yes.”

  “However, there is thematter of when this is supposed to happen,” he pointed out, sitting up straight.

  Reese furrowed her brow. “What?” she asked, her voice flat. She wanted to be with him as much as he did—or so she assumed—what did it matter when that was, as long as it happened in the first place? It wasn’t as though they looked any different; it must be at some point in the near future.

  “May I be blunt?” he asked in a tone that matched hers. This was the Ollo she knew: sarcastic and brash.

  “Aren’t you always?” she said, raising her brow.

  He smiled, his face suddenly boyish. “Touché, darl,” he said with what sounded like pride. “Anyway, the matter of when is crucial. Not because of our desires for a rushed timeline—though the desires are there—but because of your visions.” When Reese continued to stare at him, he gave her a rare look of impatience. Under normal circumstances, they would be in opposite roles. “When you lose your virginity to someone important to the war, your visions change. Not based on the man or the woman you lose it to, but based on the choice you make.

  “Think of it this way,” Ollo began again, “you are pure. Purity, in this sense, is equal to neutrality. However, once you make a choice to lose that purity—neutrality—if you choose to lose it during or before the war, you have consciously and actively chosen a side.”

  “But haven’t I been assigned a side?” Reese asked. “You woke me and my powers up.” When you kissed me. “You obviously side with God.”

  “With the angels,” Ollo corrected. “Despite what fantasies claim, God doesn’t sanction war under any circumstances, even if it involves Heaven and its inhabitants.”

  “If you’re the one training me, aren’t you shaping me to be a warrior for the angels?” Reese asked.

  “Do I have to remind you of the importance of free will?” he said with a teasing smile. “You are your own person, Reese. You make your choices under no influences but your own. Regardless of what choice you make, you were born for this role. You were destined to be the seer, the archer. I was born to train you. You can either choose one way or the other, or you don’t have to choose at all; when the war starts, you will need to fight and you’ll have to choose just what you’re fighting for. But you can keep your body as pure and as neutral as it is in this moment.”

&nbs
p; “This is complicated.” Her forehead pinched.

  “Sex usually is.”

  “No.” Reese opened her eyes so she could lock them with his. “No, it’s not. Granted, I’ve never actually had it, but the concept remains the same; two people love each other and the way they express that love is physical. Obviously there are variations of that simple explanation, but the concept is generally the same.

  “What’s complicated is making the right choice. I know I love you. I know I want to be with you and see where things go, and if that means sex, so be it. But is it right for me to choose all of that when I need to be a savior? Is it right to choose you when I have to worry about saving Onyx?”

  Ollo gave Reese a lopsided smile that didn’t reach his eyes. If anything, he looked almost…reluctant. Hesitant. “Darl, as I said, it’s completely your choice,” he murmured, his voice suddenly soft. “What you have to resolve for yourself is this: am I the right choice for you?”

  Andie

  Black Wing had always had quick reflexes, so when Andie slipped into unconsciousness and slumped forward, he caught her in his arms with ease. Slipping her knees over his arm, and then curling his other one around her back, he carefully lifted her up and headed out of the warehouse without so much as a second glance at Aaron, also currently unconscious and bleeding, but not profusely. The homeless men who had been slumped against the outer walls of the storage warehouse had disappeared into the night; Jack assumed it was to find some sort of shelter. It didn’t take him long to get home, not when he flew. Maybe five minutes. Once there, he would call a physician and have them come out to his home despite the late hour. Before unfurling his wings, Jack gazed at Andie’s face. Despite her trials tonight, she actually looked somewhat serene, and before he could stop himself, he slipped off one of his gloves and traced her bottom lip with the tip of his finger. He smiled, and then bit his lip, the memory of the kiss the two had engaged in a replaying in his mind. God, he had wanted to do that for so long, and he wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

  After another moment of simply gazing at her face, he called Commissioner Jarrett to report what had happened that night and where Aaron’s whereabouts were. When Jarrett inquired about the girl, Black Wing just said that he would see to it that she was returned to her home safely, and made sure a doctor came and checked her out. He knew Jarrett wouldn’t mind; not with the majority of the force still trying to figure out who had murdered the Lespoirs.

  “Beverly,” Jack murmured on his headset, as soon as he was a few blocks away from the manor. “Call Dr. Hobbs and get him here as soon as possible.”

  “Yes.”

  The first thing Jack did once they were tucked away in one of his many garages was to climb three staircases in order to take Andie and place her on the bed in her room. His eyes quickly glanced around at the walls, and he was reassured that she hadn’t planned on leaving, at least that night. Her posters of John Cusack and the like were still decorating the walls of the room, adding her own uniqueness to an otherwise plain room. God, he was so glad she was all right. He didn’t even want to think about what he would have done if she was in worse shape. Before he could stop himself, he knelt down and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, before kissing her softly on the forehead.

  “Jack?” Beverly’s voice came from the doorway. The hall light seeped in, but even if it hadn’t, she would still have known that a look of conflicted agony was written on her ward’s face. “Doctor Hobbs will be here in a few minutes. Is there anything I can assist you with?”

  Jack glanced down at Andie, realizing he needed to slip out of his costume before the doctor arrived and before Andie awoke. “Yeah,” he said, standing up and heading toward his aunt. “Will you come in and change her into something loose and comfortable? I’ll be back in a few minutes to check up on her.”

  Beverly knew it wouldn’t do any good insisting that Jack needed sleep himself, and nothing was going to change whether he was by her side or in his room. Instead of changing Andie into a pair of her own pajamas, Beverly grabbed an old gray T-shirt and a pair of boxers that both belonged to Jack.

  Jack changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt and answered the door after the doorbell rang. After apologizing for the lateness of the call, he quickly ushered Dr. Hobbs to Andie’s room. Even he wasn’t immune to staring for a quick moment at the decorative wallpaper on Andie’s wall, and Jack smiled a small, amused smile, though it had yet to reach his eyes.

  After a long inspection that lasted nearly twenty minutes, Dr. Hobbs turned to Jack. “She’ll be okay,” he said in his usual factual tone. “I believe she suffered a mild concussion, but she’ll be okay. I checked her reaction, and her pupils are responsive despite the fact that she is unconscious. What she needs now, above everything, is rest. And when she wakes up, she’ll probably have one hell of a headache.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Jack said and walked the doctor to the door.

  Once Dr. Hobbs was gone, Jack headed back into Andie’s room and pulled out the desk chair. He would probably be sore in the morning without a doubt, sitting in the rather uncomfortable chair for a long period of time, but it didn’t matter. He needed to be by her, to be there when she woke up. So he took a seat, readying himself for the coming night, and reached over and took Andie’s hand in his before quickly drifting off into a light doze.

  Her head hurt like a mother. God, she needed aspirin. She needed something to make the pain go away. She closed her eyes tightly, and then began to realize that she was now in a different environment. Instead of lying on cold cement, she was warm, wrapped with soft blankets. Though her head was hurting her, it was resting on something soft as well. Maybe a pillow.

  Oh God.

  She was in a bed.

  Blinking her eyes rapidly, she looked up at a very familiar ceiling. At first, it was blurry and hard to make out, but then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed very familiar pictures of John Cusack. She let out a groan and was about to reach up and grasp her forehead, but something prevented her from doing so. Something warm. Something soft, but rough at the same time. She looked to her left and couldn’t believe what she saw. In fact, she forgot her pain; she forgot everything except the look on Jack’s face while he was sleeping.

  God, he looked so adorable. A few stray strands of chestnut hair littered his face, and his lips were slightly parted. He was curled up in what looked like a relatively uncomfortable position in a very uncomfortable chair. What was he doing here? It was then that she realized he was holding her hand. That was why she couldn’t move it. A sense of security overtook her, and she smiled to herself.

  “Hey,” a husky voice said, and Andie quickly looked back at Jack. His eyes were halfway open, but he could see Andie, and she looked well.

  “Hey,” Andie said, squeezing his hand gently.

  “Are you all right?” Jack shifted his position, but still held onto her hand.

  “My head is killing me, but other than that….” Andie said softly, a tiny smile adorning her face.

  “Beverly’s going to make breakfast for you, and she’ll have aspirin as well,” Jack told her. “I had a doctor come in and check on you while you were out. You need rest, so if you’re planning on leaving, you might be delayed for a few days.” Andie nodded, but said nothing. She didn’t want to talk about that, and it would seem Jack didn’t either.

  There was an awkward silence that hung between them, and Andie sucked in her cheeks to give her something to do. It made her grimace, however, and she had to release her cheeks. Jack frowned upon seeing her face, and nodded. He leaned forward, to sweep hair away from her face. A bruise decorated her cheek, and he lowered his fingers so they gently touched the mark. Andie watched his eyes darken upon seeing it.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, lacing her fingers through his. “For everything.”

  “Listen, And….” He paused, unsure how to proceed. “There’s something you need to see.” Certainly, she could wait to see t
his video until she felt better. The thing was, he knew Andie. He liked to think he knew her better than almost anyone else. Which was how he knew she would never forgive him if he had footage of her sister and waited to show it to her until later. He also knew she was strong enough to take it. “It’s Keirah.”

  “Keirah?” She furrowed her brow, but even that took a lot out of her. She opened her eyes and managed to focus on Jack, a light at the end of a dark tunnel. “What about her? Is she okay?”

  Jack pressed his lips together as he turned on the television directly across from Andie’s bed. “I suppose that depends,” he finally said, turning back to her.

  “On what?”

  “On what your definition of ‘okay’ is.” Without warning, he played the video. Andie was going to feel how she’d feel regardless of what he could say beforehand, and he would be there to weather the storm.

  The door to the gray interrogation room opened and in walked a short, portly man, channeling his inner gangster with a beige fedora on and trench coat that went to the middle of his calves. He smelled like cheap cigars and his eyes were so gray they looked almost colorless.

  “Well,” he said with a slight Boston drawl. “Look who we have here.” He flashed her a dry grin. “You know, our town is full of crooks. You’re nothin’ new, toots. You wanna know why I wanna talk to you?” He raised his bushy brows, but Keirah remained impassive, save for the fact that her eyes were narrowed in his direction. “’Cause of your friends, toots. You know Noir; he don’t have any friends. He has people he works with that he ends up shooting afterwards. He worked with you yesterday, and lookie here. You’re still alive.”