Catalyst: Book 2 of The Dark Paradise Trilogy Read online

  “It was you?” he asked, suddenly recognizing her. She had always come off as familiar to him, and now he knew why. She was Noir’s accomplice. “You were his little partner in crime? You were that, that slut who stood by his side despite everything he’s done?”

  From the corner of her eye, Keirah noticed Noir’s eyes snap over to Chad when he heard the guard call her a slut, and they bronzed as they took in the sight of him yelling at her. A guttural growl emitted itself in the bowels of his throat as he pulled his lips back to bare his teeth in an animal-like threat, scowling threateningly at the man.

  “You cold-hearted bitch!” Chad continued to say, completely ignoring Noir’s warning, his anger increasing with every word he said. “You should be locked up in here with the rest of them, not free, out on the streets.” He gritted his teeth together, his brown eyes molding into black as he looked at Keirah. “You think you’ve seen pain, what with Noir takin’ a stab at you? I’ll show you pain!”

  Before Keirah or Noir could act, Chad stalked over to the young woman and grabbed her head into his hands. Without warning, he slammed her head into the tile wall, causing pain to shoot through every fiber of her being. She let out a pained yelp, but collapsed to the ground, overcome with dizziness. Blinking a couple of times, Keirah tried to push herself up, doing her best to ignore just how badly she felt at that moment. She had to get out of there before Chad’s temper became uncontrollable and he’d do something he would later regret.

  Chad, however, was not exactly finished with the woman. Before she could get herself to stand, he reached down and yanked her up with her hair, causing another yelp to slide past her lips. Though she was still dizzy and her head was throbbing in pain, Keirah lifted her knee, and with as much strength as she possibly could, threw it into Chad’s groin area. He cried out, immediately releasing his grip on her to aid his ailing nether region.

  “Get under the bed, hum … now,” Noir ordered, his dangerous gaze still focused on the guard that could barely stand.

  Keirah didn’t have to be told twice. Noir was obviously the lesser of two evils at present and Chad seemed intent on continuing to hurt her, so as best as she could, she managed to slide her body underneath the bunk bed that belonged to a sociopath.

  “Get out here, Elen,” Chad said, his pale face now red due to Keirah’s infraction on his body. He didn’t look, nor did he sound, too pleased with the young woman before him. “Come on, you bitch, get up. Crawl back out from underneath that bed and get up.” His breath was ragged, and his hands were on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

  “Don’t you, uh, well, don’t you worry, princess,” Noir drawled, tensing his body as though he was some sort of animal, preparing to attack his prey. “If he wants you, he’ll, uh… get you.”

  The next moment still left Keirah thinking about what could have happened if Chad’s patience was still intact, if he wasn’t in so much pain, and if he wasn’t dangerously mad at her. But he was all of those things. In fact, Chad probably wasn’t thinking as rationally as he normally would because if he had been, he wouldn’t have placed himself in such a fatal position. Because of this, Chad did what any other enraged man would have done in his position, and that was to lunge for her, currently curled up underneath the bed.

  Noir smiled, knowing exactly what Chad was planning to do, and though an amused glint shimmered in his eyes, the smile itself did not quite meet them. He reached up, coiling his fingers around the metal bed post, preparing himself for what he had known would come. Just as Chad threw himself across the floor in order to get to Keirah, Noir gripped the metal and locked onto Chad’s neck with his long, strong legs.

  “No one touches herrrrr,” Noir growled in a rough voice. He grinned as he heard a satisfying crunch, snapping Chad’s neck fatally between his legs. When was the last time he had killed anyway? It felt so … good to have done it this time. He didn’t even look at the slain guard as he released the body onto the floor.

  “You can, um, come out, now,” he purred, before smacking his lips together. The sound echoed off of the walls. “Yanno, it is such a, hum … pleasure to … see you again.”

  2

  It was raining in Onyx. Again.

  Reese stared at herself in the full-length mirror, going over every detail of her New Years’ Eve attire. It took her two hours to curl her hair and another half hour to style it into a French ponytail with her bangs straightened and pinned back. She had to suffer through enough hairspray to make her head flammable. And now it was raining. She let out an annoyed sigh, fists on her hips.

  Perfect.

  That’s what umbrellas are for, pumpkin, a voice that sounded suspiciously like her father reminded her. A little rain never hurt anybody.

  Despite herself, her nude lips curled into a smile. What a dad thing to say.

  “Honey, you almost ready?” her mother called from the stairwell. “The girls are here.”

  “Be right down!” she returned.

  Before she left, she placed her hands on her stomach, flattening the purposeful wrinkles on her coral-colored ruched dress. It had been two months since she had been to an actual party, even though her parents tried to drag her to Jack Phillip’s Christmas party last week, which would have meant missing soccer practice. She wanted to play in one varsity game before the season was over and a little party thrown by Onyx’s resident billionaire bachelor wasn’t something she cared to attend. Plus, her best friend Andie had a complicated relationship with the man, and that was putting it nicely. Interestingly—though not surprisingly—Jack Phillip didn’t even show. His aunt Beverly said he was stuck in some international meeting, but Reese had a sinking suspicion that even he didn’t want to attend his own party, and quite frankly, she couldn’t blame him. The only people who attended those parties were Phillip Enterprises employees—like her dad—stuffy rich people who just wanted to network and shake a celebrity’s hand, or groupies in inappropriate clothing who wanted to shake a celebrity’s—

  Well then.

  Her grey eyes flitted around the room, taking in the posters of Abby Wambach and Adam Levine. Two months ago, those walls were completely bare. Now, they housed some of her favorite things. It wasn’t Beverly Hills by any means, but Onyx was slowly starting to become her home.

  Once Reese reached the living room, she was surprised to see that Keirah, Andie’s older sister, was nowhere to be seen. Miranda was in a sleek black dress that highlighted her voluptuous figure and enhanced her porcelain skin. Andie was in a white dress, looking nothing short of a prom queen minus the poof. She knew Andie wasn’t too keen on attending, especially with how things were left between her and Jack, but it was the last major event that required her presence, and once it was over, she would never have to see Jack again.

  However, Andie’s discontent at being here didn’t explain the lack of Keirah.

  Reese furrowed her brow, shooting Andie a look.

  Andie shrugged, easily deciphering Reese’s quizzical glance. “Apparently she has work,” she replied, not bothering to mask the flatness tainting her tone. “I don’t know. She hasn’t been the same since she got back, at least from what I can tell. Personally, I think it’s an excuse. I don’t think she wanted to come in the first place.”

  “Well, no matter what it is,” Miranda interjected, “it’s not going to ruin our night. It’s New Years’ Eve for crying out loud! It’s our last night before we have to start over and make new goals we’ll have to give up after two weeks and all that bullshit. Tonight, we’re going to live it up!”

  “Where’s Ollo?”

  Andie didn’t have to shout over the music like she had to during the Halloween party, something Reese was grateful for. She was never a nightclub person, specifically because of the socialization aspect that involved feeling up a person without learning about them first. The party took place at Jack’s mansion, so there were plenty of quiet places to sneak off to. Currently, the threesome was in Jack’s drawing room, each wit
h a nonalcoholic beverage in their hand. They were sitting on his brown leather couch, the music from the adjacent ballroom a soft tinkling. Because Reese’s dress was not only short but tight, she was forced to cross her legs when what she’d rather do was pull her knees up to her chest, wrap her arms around them, and rest her cheek on her knees.

  Reese snorted, ignoring her mother’s mental chides that snorting was unladylike. “No idea,” she said. “You know how he is; he’ll probably be late to his own funeral.”

  The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she paled at the notion. There might be a chance that he didn’t survive the war—that was all but guaranteed between angels and demons. Her visions hadn’t predicted anything, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen, especially when she had died in the last one.

  “Whoa,” Miranda said, putting a comforting hand on Reese’s knee. “It was just a joke. We know that.” She smirked. “So. How are you guys?” Her tone was decidedly insinuating and Reese could swear she winked.

  Right.

  Ollo was her pretend-boyfriend.

  In reality, Ollo—Apollo—was her trainer. In another life, she was Pythia, his oracle, the key to winning the war. She had visions warning her of what was to come, regardless of any preventative measures one might do in order to change the outcome of the future. Depending on what side she chose to be a part of, her visions reflected whatever would benefit those she grouped with. However, personal choice was a must; one group couldn’t force her to be on one side because her visions wouldn’t have helped. She hadn’t had a vision since—since she saw her family burn in a fire. But that was more than a month ago. She didn’t like to think about it.

  It was Ollo that had found her. She had been in a coma for a year—the result of a car accident—when her parents decided to move them to Onyx. Not only did her father get an incredible job working for Jack Phillip, but Onyx General was a nationally acclaimed hospital that would provide Reese with the best of the best medical care. Ollo walked right in and kissed her on the lips, Sleeping Beauty style, in order to awaken her from her coma and to awaken her powers. Apparently he was destined to be her trainer, helping her hone her abilities and teach her how to use a bow and arrow, a way to defend herself should the need ever arise. She was supposed to have been the best archer in all of Greece, but her skill didn't transfer over, so she needed more practice than either of them realized.

  When they first met, Reese thought Ollo was rude, obnoxious, and an alcoholic who couldn't be counted on not to pass out in the middle of a training session. He, on the other hand, made it no secret that he found her stuck up, privileged, and naive. Working together was a miracle unto itself.

  That all changed when Ollo decided to quit drinking cold turkey. It was a hard couple of days, but Reese stayed with him through the rough nights, taking care of him, soothing him. From there, they formed a tentative working relationship which slowly blossomed into a friendship. Because Ollo was going to be around almost all the time, Reese decided to pretend he was her boyfriend and introduced him to her friends and family as such. It was just easier that way.

  To be honest, Reese looked at Ollo as her older brother. Granted, she thought he was way hotter than a sister should think of her brother. He was tall and sturdy, built with lean muscle. He had shoulder-length dirty-blond hair that attracted grit and dirt like pink attracted Reese, and the most unique pair of eyes she had ever seen. They were this weird combination of blue and brown, and he captivated her more than she was willing to admit. His smile was crooked, his face chiseled but scruffy, and his hands were rougher than a gardener's glove. But when they held onto hers, they made her feel warm and safer than she had ever felt. He had a gravelly voice tainted with an accent that sounded like a combination of Australian and Irish. He rarely said her name, insisting on calling her darl which was some sort of Australian term of endearment; however, when he did, she could swear he had the ability to stop time.

  But again, she just thought of him as her brother. Nothing more. He annoyed her like a sibling anyway. If her heart skipped a bit whenever he smiled, well, that was normal.

  Except her own little brother Brody didn’t affect her like that. Of course, when her mind pointed that little tidbit out, she completely ignored it and decided to change the subject.

  "We're good," she replied, her voice giving nothing away. "Hey And, have you seen Jack at all?"

  Reese didn't mean to throw Andie under the bus. Really, she didn't. But she tried to avoid talking about Ollo in front of her friends because that might lead to other questions about how she met him and how they really know each other. She trusted her friends, but she wasn't ready to talk to them yet about the reality of reincarnation, angels, demons, and her role as a savior, especially since the likelihood of them actually believing her was nil. She also had a terrible poker face, and lies were as easily detectable on her face as her soft splash of freckles that she didn't even want to risk it.

  "Not yet."

  Unlike Reese, Andie was well-versed in the art of deception. If Reese didn't know any better, she would have believed Andie's answer at face value, given the nonchalant look on her face. But Reese knew better. Having loved someone and purposefully walking away for their own good seemed worse than being broken up with. Reese wasn't sure why Andie had to walk away; she had yet to share that detail, but she also mentioned it was the hardest decision she had ever had to make in her life, which meant whatever her reasoning, it must be important. To be honest, there were times when Reese wished she had Andie's strength because she had no idea how she was going to handle watching her family die and being a key player in a war that didn't even involve humans. But somehow she was born with this responsibility, and she would have to figure out a way to handle it.

  "And what are a lovely group of young ladies doing, hiding away in the confines of the drawing room instead of being out in the ballroom, socializing?"

  The foursome stopped talking and turned to look at Beverly Phillip, Jack's aunt. She had an affinity for earthy colors, and tonight was no exception. Her chestnut brown hair was piled messily onto her head with stray strands framing her face. Her dress she wore was a bright forest green color that hugged her willowy figure. There was a dip to her breastbone and her upper back was revealed through the square cut of the material. It was sleeveless, revealing her surprisingly toned arms for a woman of her age. Her makeup was earthy as well with her lips painted red and the lids of her eyes a smoky brown. In her hand, she carried a wine glass with dark red liquid that was probably an aged merlot. No one knew where her husband was, but everyone knew she was married and that she was here because she helped Jack with his company. Just because he graduated from an Ivy League school and his father was a world renowned entrepreneur didn't mean he was above a little assistance from his family, and Beverly was his only known family. His parents had died in a car crash, and since he was an only child, he inherited everything. It almost sounded like a superhero origin story.

  Beverly Phillip had a knack for rendering grown men speechless, and she had the power to do so over a group of teenage girls. Reese knew they all admired Beverly, but no one seemed to have the capacity to form any kind of response, let alone an intelligent one.

  "We'll, come on," she insisted with a playful smile. "The dance floor has your names on it. Don't deprive the male population of your presence by staying shut away here."

  The foursome stood and managed to give her some form of polite greeting, whether it was a hello or a nod.

  "Andrea, it's so good to see you," Beverly said. "The mansion just hasn't been the same without you." A pause. "And neither has Jack." Reese could tell the comment flustered Andie to the point where the most vocal girl Reese had ever met couldn't formulate one of her characteristic retorts. But before she had a chance to do so if she could, Beverly continued, "You should stop by when you can."

  As the foursome made their way to the nearby ballroom, Reese kept her eyes closely fixed
on Andie. She knew Andie went through a rough time when her mother threw her out of the apartment after Keirah's kidnapping by Onyx's resident sociopath—a man the media dubbed as Noir since no one knew a thing about him. Jack had been there for Andie. If Reese had to guess, she would put her money on something happening between the two of them at some point when they lived together, however temporary that was. There was no explanation, especially when Andie chose to leave the palace that was Jack's mansion and move in with Carey and her family.

  It was around the time of Thanksgiving when Andie moved out of Jack's place, but she had yet to talk to anyone about it, as far as Reese knew. She hoped that when Andie was ready to unload, she knew that Reese would be there for her.

  "Reese Lespoir?"

  A woman leaning against the dark oak walls that made up the hallway leading directly into the ballroom straightened and stepped directly in Reese's path, preventing her from following her friends. They already moved inside the now-loud room so they didn't notice Reese's abrupt stop.

  "Yes?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as she focused her grey eyes on the woman before her. "Can I help you?"

  The woman's smile deepened, revealing a set of straight teeth with a prominent left canine that only enhanced her smile.

  "You are just the girl I've been looking for," she continued. "I need to talk to you."

  Reese frowned upon being called a girl. She didn't appreciate that boys her age were easily referred to as men while she was stuck in some catatonic prepubescent diction, especially when it was another woman doing the labeling. And by this woman's tone, it almost felt like she had done it on purpose.

  "Actually, I should be heading inside with my fr—"

  "It's about Ollo," the woman's lips turned up as she added in a breathy whisper, "your trainer."

  Reese froze. Nobody knew Ollo's role as her trainer, not her family, not her closest friends. They knew him as her boyfriend; the guy she met while playing soccer in the park.