As she stared at herself in the mirror of the changing room, a tiny, shy smile touched her lips as a blush scattered across her cheeks. She had never really worn anything quite as revealing as she was now. She never felt the need to. But something inside of her wanted to make Noir desire her even more than he already did, and she felt that this dress pulled that off perfectly.
The costume was in the same vein as Noir’s in that it went with his whole nineteen-thirties mafia/bank robbing outfit he was known for. She wasn’t a flapper, per se; while a flapper represented a woman’s sexuality and rising from the oppression of it, she felt she needed to have a stronger presence. Not quite equal to Noir, but at least somewhere on his level, and this outfit encompassed that in Keirah’s mind. It was a short, halter-style dress that hugged every curve her body could offer. It was black, with white pinstripes running up and down the material with two gold buttons just underneath her breasts. Around her neck was a white collar with a burgundy colored satin tie and on her head was a fedora, similar to Noir’s, save for hers had a matching burgundy ribbon wrapped around its body. On her left leg, there was a black garter with a gold money symbol. Finally, her wrists were occupied with white wrist cuffs.
Shoes were also important to the outfit, and after changing back into her regular clothes, she managed to find black and white pumps that she was certain she’d be able to break in and learn how to walk in with relative ease.
Keirah didn’t want to admit it, but she was excited for Noir to see her in the outfit. She hoped he would enjoy it.
Oddly enough, Noir seemed to instill in Keirah a cool confidence, especially pertaining to her sexuality. And she loved it.
When she walked out of the mall, she saw Noir waiting in the exact spot to pick her up. It was risky for him to be so vulnerable, but he had yet to trust his henchmen alone with her.
“Did you get what you need?” he asked her, eyeing the bag with obvious curiosity.
Keirah pushed the bag down by her feet where he couldn’t see it and gave him a mysterious smile. “You’ll see,” she told him.
20
Her nose twitched. She smelled a strong burning scent of … smoke.
Fire.
Fire!
Reese sprung up and was about to bolt for the entrance way when she forced her instincts to pause. Yes, there was smoke, but as far as she could tell, it wasn’t anywhere near the tent. She needed to think. What had they taught her during those elementary school fire drills she had used as a social period? She walked toward the entrance and placed her palms flat on the thin material. Depending on how close the fire was to the tent, the temperature would reflect it. When her palm hit the tent, she could feel that it was warm but not immediately threatening. The scent was strong so the fire was close. She needed to wake up Ollo and figure out a plan of attack.
When her grey eyes flitted to Ollo, he had a lazy smile on his face. “You’re a sight to wake up to, darl,” he said, sleep laced in his tone.
It was then that she remembered what happened; how cold it was, how soaked they both were, how he helped her undress, how he undressed in front of her like it was no big deal, how he wore boxer briefs, how they talked about the spirit war, how his bare skin on her bare skin kept her warm throughout the night and the morning. She must have dozed off, which was a miracle because her mind had been too busy to allow sleep to come. But with him next to her, surrounded by his woodsy scent, she was relaxed enough to turn her mind off just for a minute …
“Ollo, it smells like a fire is somewhere nearby—”
“Daphne’s back.” His tone was flat.
“What?” Hers was sharp.
“The fire is Daphne’s fault,” Ollo said, sitting up. He still did not have a shirt on, and Reese’s eyes couldn’t help but linger and memorize. His torso was scarred with lines running on both sides of his stomach and just underneath his heart. She was certain that if she ever received the pleasure of viewing his back, it would have a similar story to tell. She wondered—hoped—he would someday share those stories with her. As crazy as it sounded, they just made him look more beautiful. The fact that he had that happy trail and six contours of abdominal muscles on his stomach were cherries on top. God, he was lovely. “Now that she’s met you in person and knows who you are, she’s using her skills to test you.”
“So she started a fire?” Reese asked, still unsure how this entire thing added up.
“She’s a river nymph who was transformed into a tree,” Ollo said with a shrug. “Her specialty is fire. She can control it, start it, and end it.”
“And she’s testing me?”
“I’m going to be blunt with you, darl,” he said. “Daphne doesn’t like you. She’s going to test you and insist she’s helping prepare you for the war. However, I can’t claim that she’s entirely wrong.” Reese’s eyes narrowed. “Before you turn into a banshee, I’m not defending her. Quite frankly, she’s a bitch. But we’re not sure what to expect with this war. It could be raining. It could a fiery inferno. You should practice your technique in every environment.”
“So we trust her; that’s it.” She shook her head. “How do we even know it’s Daphne?”
“It’s Daphne,” Ollo said with a firm nod. “Think about it for a moment, darl. It rained a lot last night and this morning. With everything that damp, do you really think anyone could just start a fire? Honestly?”
Reese refrained from rolling her eyes. She wanted to use her frustration at the fact that Daphne was even here again and take it out on Ollo by snapping at his insinuation that she lacked common sense, but she stopped herself. It wasn’t his fault Daphne was here. It wasn’t like he asked her to be. The only thing she could fault him for was his questionable taste in women. Everyone had a past, after all. She just wished she didn’t have to deal with his past in the present.
“You don’t look happy,” he stated, standing and stretching.
“I’m not,” she muttered, watching him from the corner of her eye. She would not give him the satisfaction of ogling him while they discussed his ex-something like other people discuss the weather. But I would be if you kept doing exactly what you’re doing.
Ollo reached down and grabbed an already-worn shirt from the floor. Typical Ollo. “I understand,” he said. “You should get dressed, darl. I know. I can’t believe I’m saying it either. But we came out here for a reason, and as much as I enjoy our chats, we still have work to do.”
“Just tell me this,” Reese said as she walked over to her pink luggage. She laid it flat and unzipped it as she tried to figure out what to wear today. Something warm, obviously. “Despite all of your history that I have absolutely zero desire learning about, is Daphne good? Like, does she support the angels?”
“Well, despite her best efforts, Daphne does know the difference between right and wrong,” Ollo said as he slid on dark jeans. “Do I trust her? No. Do I trust her with you? Fuck no. But her method—starting a fire and whatnot—will ultimately help. And I think that she has other motives, certainly, but she is extending some sort of olive branch.”
“Probably to beat me with,” Reese muttered under her breath. There was no way in hell she trusted Daphne, but she trusted Ollo. And if he thought this would help her, that would have to be enough.
It wasn’t as cold outside. There was a peacefulness that clung to the scenery that can only happen right after the rain, and when Reese inhaled deeply, the cleanliness expanded her lungs. There was still a hint of smoke that permeated the air, but the smell of the lingering rain overpowered it. It would be a beautiful day. Cold, but beautiful.
Ollo emerged from the tent just after she did, his hair pulled from his neck in a loose ponytail. With his hair away from his face, his features were softened. Warm, even. He shone, if she was being honest.
“Well.” He clapped his hands together. “Ready?”
It took her three hours to get everything under control. Three hours to start expanding her skills from simple targets to m
oving targets to shooting at targets with people and fire coming straight toward her. At one point, her hair nearly caught on fire. She believed Daphne was personally responsible for that incident. She was probably just jealous Reese had beautiful thick blonde hair and Daphne clearly did not. Goodness, that wretched woman was such a B.
At least the fire was out. At least nothing was badly burned except a select group of trees. Wasn’t Daphne supposed to have been turned into a tree? So why would she burn down her family?
Reese pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at herself. She was terrible.
“I see the way you look at him, you know.”
The familiar voice caused Reese to jump and Daphne started laughing in that perfect melodious way of hers. This time, Reese didn’t hold back when she rolled her eyes. She never understood why people pretended to like each other when the opposite was true. It took too much energy and she was not going to chance grey hair and wrinkles due to the stress pretending would no doubt cause her.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“Ooh.” Daphne raised her brow in mock surprise. “Talking in our big girl voice today, are we?”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Reese said. “I don’t like you. I don’t want you here. I wish I’d never met you.”
“I think I like you, Reese,” Daphne said, surprised at the fact. “Which is surprising, because I detested Pythia when she was around.” She looked at her surprisingly clean nails before glancing back at Reese. “And you have much more of a chance with Ollo than she ever did. Want to know why? Because I see the way he looks at you too.”
“I could care less about your analysis of my love life. Quite frankly, it’s none of your business. I don’t need your obviously biased advice. I’ve done fine on my own.”
“Ollo is nothing like those Beverly Hills boys,” Daphne said with a snarl. “I know he doesn’t look like much, but Ollo is a god. Oh yeah, I know everything about you, girlie. I’ve done my research on you. This war is crucial to everyone who has knowledge about it. And you are the most important person in the way, more than Black Wing, more than Ollo, more than even Satan himself. I recognize that. Just because you threaten my relationship with Ollo doesn’t mean I’m going to jeopardize any of that. I’m going to do things to you to piss you off and hurt you, but it’s all in the name of pushing you to be the best you can be. But I need you to be the bigger person and back off Ollo.”
“I’m not even on Ollo,” Reese said with an exasperated snort. She narrowed her eyes as a thought occurred to her. “Where did you go last night anyway? You just disappeared.”
“No offense, but I wasn’t in the mood to watch you guys argue, even if it was over me.” Daphne smirked like she won something, and it was only then that Reese realized that she had. Daphne won because she had riled Reese up to the point where she fought with Ollo. “You’re welcome, by the way. For this.” She nodded at the burned woodland. “You needed it. You’re still not ready. Pythia was a bitch, but at least she knew what she was doing. You? You don’t have a clue. Oh, and a piece of advice. You smell like shit. You should wash off in the clearing just up ahead. I’ll even warm it up for you.”
Before Reese could reply, Daphne patted her shoulder and slinked off into the woods.
At least Daphne kept her word and heated the clearing like it was a bathtub. She wasn’t sure why she took Daphne’s advice, but a hot bath sounded wonderful and Ollo was still out in the woods, hunting some poor wild animal for lunch. It was his way of getting his mind off of things, she knew, and with the abrupt arrival of his past, she was certain he wanted to forget a lot for as long as he could. Daphne, too, had disappeared and Reese didn’t care where she went off to, which meant Reese had some time to herself. She wasn’t about to waste it.
Despite the cold, she slid off her clothes and, after dipping her toes in the water to test its temperature, glided into the clear, shallow water. Her muscles instantly relaxed their tight hold on her, and she could feel the dirt and the grime, the sweat and the rain, rinse off of her like last season’s fashion. She swam underwater, making sure her hair was rinsed just as much as her body. Then she floated on her back, her torso exposed to the trees, the clouds, and the sky. Her eyes closed on their own accord, and for the first time since coming to Onyx, she felt all of her problems roll off her shoulders. She had nothing to worry about. For the time being, she was free.
Then, a cracked branch. A snap that woke the woods up. She popped up and slid underwater so the only thing under her neck that was exposed were her shoulders.
It was Ollo. And he couldn’t stop staring at her.
He had on a forest green plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows over a white wife beater. His hair was still pulled back so his dirt blond hair couldn’t hide the intensity that sprung from his eyes.
She was frozen yet again. She couldn’t move. How did he have such power over her?
Reese managed to pull her eyes away from his and eyed the towel in his hands. So he knew. She didn’t know how he knew, but he knew.
Somehow, for some reason, she began to tread toward him until her feet could touch the mud floor. And then she kept walking. She was going to expose her naked body to him, and she didn’t care. What had gotten into her? She shouldn’t do this. Why was she doing this? Why couldn’t she stop? Why didn’t she want to stop? He was going to see her.
And then he did.
She was out of the water, bare naked, in front of him as a new canvas was to a painter. He didn’t even hide his eyes as they traced every inch of her body. She closed her eyes as though her skin could feel itself being watched by him. His hand reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her toward him and sending a thrill through her body, to her very core. The juxtaposition of her body to his clothed one, to her being wet and clean from her bath to him being dirty and dry, caused friction to spring up in his body.
She wanted him. She wanted him to kiss her, she realized, and he wanted it too. He desired her. She knew he did, now that she allowed herself to see it.
He eyed her lips, tilted his head—
—but pulled back and wrapped the towel around her frame, covering her up.
She felt the shame of rejection turn her body red.
“Come,” he commanded, turning away and purposefully avoiding her eyes. “Lunch is ready.”
21
“What do you think Miranda is going to want?” Jack asked, flipping the collar to his beige trench coat up to protect his face from the bitter breeze. Andie and Jack were currently walking down Seventh Avenue in the cold Onyx night; Seventh Avenue was notorious for its expensive boutiques, and since it was a good week into January and the day before Miranda’s birthday, Andie decided Jack needed to get her a gift last minute rather than late. She was also trying to figure out a way to tell Jack about what she learned today at her internship—not that her ex-boyfriend was somehow her new manager, but that Grayson Pierce funded the Vigilante Registration Act with money from Eagle Corp. Jack had yet to bring up her new internship position, and since things were less tense between them, she didn’t want to rock the boat. But she had to tell him, and soon.
“What’s your policy on sexual harassment?” Andie asked, glancing up at him. She, too, was wearing a trench coat, boots, and a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. It was a fascinating shift in attitude for Andie. “Specifically concerning strippers.” Jack pursed his lips, trying to contain an amused smile. “What?!” she exclaimed. “I’m not lying. She wants a stripper, and I think it would be funny to surprise her. Specifically a cowboy stripper. Apparently she has a thing for cowboys.”
“Cowboys, eh?” Jack said, rubbing his gloved fingers on the tip of his chin. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem if you do it after-hours …” Andie chuckled as she wrote something down in her handy-dandy planner. “Now,” Jack said, furrowing his brows together as he slipped his hands back in his pockets. “How did your first day go? At that place
… I forget what it’s called …”
Andie rolled her eyes, and though a grin danced on her lips, there was a slight hesitation before she replied. “Oh, fine,” she said as nonchalantly as she could. She knew he could see straight through her, however. “Grayson Pierce showed me around, I met the guy I’m supposed to report to, I answered phone calls, same old, same old.” Andie stopped in the middle of the sidewalk despite the fact that other pedestrians could walk into her. “Jack,” she murmured, her eyes cast on the bleak sidewalk, “there’s something I need to tell you. I overheard a conversation—well, overheard makes it seem like an accident, and it was, but technically, I could have made my presence known. Instead, I just eavesdropped.” She forced her eyes to look at him and was surprised to see the corner of his lips curled into an amused smirk. “Grayson Pierce used funds from Eagle Corp. to help Lucas Burr fund his Vigilante Registration Act.” There. She said it. She wasn’t responsible for that secret anymore. Done.
Then why didn’t she feel … relieved?
Speaking of which, why didn’t Jack look shocked or upset or angry.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “We met a few years ago. Suffice it to say, I didn’t make a great first impression.”
“Trust me, you’ve made an impression,” Andie said flatly, relishing in the warmth of the boutique they just stepped into. “He asked me if I was some kind of spy for you after our little tour.” She glanced up at him. “You’re not … mad?”
Jack shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do about it,” he replied. “Tucker Wilson’s a recluse. No one’s heard from him in years. I’m surprised he’s still CEO of the company. Pierce is acting CEO until Wilson gets out of hiding, but I’m quite certain Pierce will get what’s coming to him, sooner or later.”
Andie nodded. That was good enough for her. For now, she decided to change the subject in order to prevent him from asking more questions. Although she told Jack about Pierce, she wasn’t ready to tell him about Aaron just yet.
Catalyst: Book 2 of The Dark Paradise Trilogy Page 16
