Reckless Times: A Paranormal Romance (Paragon Society Book 1) Page 3

  5

  Stephan

  There’s no good explanation for why I decided to follow Blake Belfor’s daughter out of the ballroom. The moment I stepped foot in the party, I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She’s not the reason I’m here though. My father sent me to get closer to the magnate. According to our intel, the Neo Gods are mobilizing forces, and getting Blake Belfor—and his billion-dollar fortune—on their side would be a blow to everyone opposing the Neo Gods’ nefarious agenda. So far, we haven’t been able to discover where the man’s views on the matter lie.

  Quickly, I realize Andromeda Belfor is nothing I’ve imagined she would be. I was expecting to find a meek and shy young woman; instead, I got a feisty and sharp-tongued firecracker. If Patrick O’Neill thinks he can charm his way onto her good side, he’s in for a rude awakening.

  She had every right to lash out at me. I was indeed following her, and then I couldn’t resist toying with her a little to see how she would respond. I didn’t foresee her chains nor the level of power coming from her. She’s at least a level seventeen, maybe even an eighteen, the most powerful Idols there are, which is strange since neither of her parents is that high up on the Idol power scale.

  I’m on my way back to the party when I catch Patrick slipping out with two of his friends. The O’Neill family is another one on our watch list. The patriarch is a ruthless businessman, amoral, and I have no reason to believe his son is any different. We haven’t been able to find proof yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the O’Neills were backing the Neo Gods.

  I follow the group to the gardens surrounding the mansion, resorting to flying to avoid detection. For the first few minutes, I gain nothing by eavesdropping. Then the topic changes to Andy, and soon, Patrick reveals his true colors.

  Keeping a cool head was the first thing drilled into me when I joined the Knights. I’m glad for my training, because the things they’re saying about Andy are making my blood boil.

  Their tirade is cut short when an eerie sound comes from the other side of the garden. Shit. It’s the noise of rattling chains. Andy’s here somewhere. She probably heard every word those assholes said.

  Thanks to a moonless sky, the gardens aren’t lacking shadowed spots where I can hide. I fly higher and out of sight when Patrick and his friends make their way back into the mansion. At the same time, I search for Andy. She’s striding in the opposite direction. Before I stop to think, I follow her again.

  She heads to the street, which is lined with expensive cars. Her steps don’t falter; her direction doesn’t waver. She has a clear goal—the red Ferrari parked across from the Belfors’ estate.

  She stops in front of the luxurious sports car, and her glorious chains shoot out from her wrists. They pierce the Ferrari as if it were made out of butter. In less than a minute, she turns the vehicle into a pile of minced metal and broken glass.

  I could have stopped her, but that fuckwit deserves having his car destroyed. Plus, the sight of her going savage on Patrick’s toy was something to behold. It was beautiful, just like she is.

  Andy’s breathing is coming out in bursts when she finally reels in her chains. Her body remains as tense as a coiled spring though.

  “Did you enjoy the show?” she asks without turning in my direction.

  “Yes.”

  She whirls around and stares in my general direction. My eyes immediately drop to her cleavage, which is emphasized by the tight bodice of her dress. As much as I appreciate the view, I force my gaze back to her face. Ogling her is not only wrong but disrespectful. She’s not a piece of meat. She’s the most extraordinary Idol I’ve ever met.

  “Really? You like to witness destruction and chaos?”

  “When it’s dished out to those who deserve it, yes.”

  Her eyebrows furrow slightly. “What do you want, Silverstone?”

  “Do your parents know what you’re capable of?”

  She snorts. “No. They only see what they want. Ironic, huh?”

  “Let me guess. They think you’re a defenseless, fragile flower.”

  “Something like that.” She crosses her arms, rubbing them up and down.

  “Are you cold?” I cut the distance between us, removing my tux jacket. “Here.”

  She takes a step back. “I don’t need your gallantry.”

  “You’re shaking.”

  “It’s ninety degrees. This is rage.”

  Not wanting to be skewered by her chains, I put my jacket back on.

  “Do you like being homeschooled?”

  She narrows her eyes to slits. “Cut the crap, Silverstone. You want something from me. Just spill it already.”

  Fuck. She’s not wrong about that. We could use someone like her in our ranks. That is, if she’s not affiliated with the Neo Gods.

  The idea makes me sick for more reasons than one.

  “You should be attending Paragon Academy,” I say.

  She opens and shuts her mouth before clenching her jaw. After a moment of silence, she finally replies, “I should, but as you’ve guessed, my parents are overprotective.”

  “And you’ve never tried to change their minds?”

  She whips her head to the side, almost as if she doesn’t want me to read her facial expression. “I’m saving all the fighting for when it matters.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I can’t have everything I want, so I have to… prioritize.”

  That’s not the whole truth, not by a long shot, but pressuring her won’t do me any good.

  “I understand the sentiment, but your education shouldn’t be sacrificed.”

  “Why do you care? Did the school send you here on a recruiting mission?”

  Guilt sneaks into my mind. I am trying to recruit her, though for my own selfish reasons, not the academy’s.

  She shrugs. “Whatever. I don’t care if you are. You’re wasting your time anyway. My parents will never let me leave their house unless I’m married to someone they approve.” Her tone is bitter, and I can’t blame her, not when one of the contenders is Patrick O’Neill.

  “They can’t force you to do anything, Andy. You’re your own person.”

  She turns to me, and even knowing she’s blind, I have the feeling she can see me, the real me who is hiding behind a mask of good intentions.

  “I have to give it to you, Silverstone. You’re a good talker, but I’m better at sniffing out bullshit.”

  “I’m not lying,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “Maybe you want to believe your words, but we both know that’s not how the world works.” She turns her face toward the grand Belfor mansion. “I’d better get back inside before my parents send out a search party.” Cocking her head, she smirks at me. “Well, Silverstone, it’s been real, and it’s been fun, but I can’t say it’s been real fun.”

  Her chains are no longer visible, but I can still sense their power surrounding her as she strides toward the house. I don’t move from my spot until she disappears through the gates. Then I pull my cell phone out and call my father. My foot crunches a piece of broken glass, reminding me that Patrick’s Ferrari has been obliterated into fragments. I’d better get out of here before he catches me at the crime scene and blames me for it.

  A ring away from going to voice mail, my father answers the call.

  “Stephan, why are you calling me at this hour? Shouldn’t you be at the Belfors’ annual gala?”

  “I am at the gala. I’m calling because there’s been a new development.”

  “Oh? Did you find out if Belfor has any connections to the Neo Gods?”

  “No. But I found a way we can get more intel.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “If I convinced Blake Belfor to enroll his daughter at Paragon Academy, how hard would it be to get me a position there?” The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I wish my motives for getting Andy what she wants weren’t tainted by hidden agendas.

  “That wouldn’t
be a problem at all. I think you’ll have a harder time convincing Blake to let go of his precious daughter. He’s overprotective of her.”

  “I know, that’s why I’m approaching the weakest link first. Her mother.”

  “Good move. Marissa Belfor is a shallow woman, worried to the extreme about social etiquette. But you have to be subtle, son. She needs to believe the idea to enroll her daughter at Paragon was hers.”

  “Not to worry, Dad. I got this.”

  “Let me know when it’s a done deal, and I’ll make the call.”

  6

  Andromeda

  I’m all sweaty, so I make a quick stop at the powder room before I return to the party. I’m still thinking about Stephan and our conversation when I step into the ballroom. It’s a rare occasion when I can’t read a person. I sensed he was hiding something, but I couldn’t figure out if he’s a certified ass like Patrick or if he’s truly nice. Maybe if I didn’t know what he looked like, my mind wouldn’t be fogged by my attraction to him. Lust ruins everything.

  My skin crawls when I catch Patrick’s presence. He’s back on the chair next to mine. But then I remember what I did to his precious car, and the smile that blossoms on my face is genuine.

  “Hey, Andy. I was about to go look for you. Everything okay?” he asks.

  “Oh yeah. Everything is great. I was just taking a stroll through the gardens.”

  I adjust the napkin over my lap while I enjoy the change in his body. Sure, I gave away my secret, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to mess with the douche’s mind. I can feel everything: the increase of his heartbeat, the tension of his muscles. I bet the blood has drained from his face too.

  “Uh, you were in the gardens?” His voice comes out squeaky, like the rat he is. I can’t wait to hear his reaction when he discovers what’s left of his Ferrari.

  “Yeah, for a little bit. It was hot, so I didn’t stay long.”

  “You shouldn’t have gone outside in this heat, sweetheart,” my father says.

  I wait for my mother to chime in, but then I realize she’s not at the table. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Oh, she’s dancing with Stephan Silverstone. He’s such a charming gentleman.”

  I curl my fingers around my napkin. What’s Stephan doing with my mother? And how did he get back so quickly?

  “Far from me to speak ill of anyone, but you really should be careful with the Silverstones. The word on the street is that they’re involved with an illegal group of activists,” Patrick says in a conspiratorial tone, making me tense in an instant.

  “Nonsense. I’ve met Gunther on several occasions. I have pretty good instincts about these things, son. The rumors aren’t true.”

  Oh, Daddy. You’re so delusional that it hurts sometimes. The proof your intuition is faulty is sitting right next to me.

  “All right, Mr. Belfor. I’ll take your word for it.” Patrick laughs, but it’s without mirth. Not surprising; he’s a snake after all. If his lips are moving, he’s lying.

  Trying my best to ignore him, I search for my mother and Stephan. After a minute, I finally catch their presence in the middle of the dance floor. A quick scan of my mother tells me she’s delighted to be dancing with him. Out of nowhere, a spike of jealousy pierces my chest. This is crazy. Why would I care if Stephan is impressing my mother with his charms?

  Suddenly, I can’t bear to stay a minute longer. I’ll miss the moment when Patrick finds what’s left of his car, but I don’t care. With more force than I intend, I push my chair back and stand up.

  “Andy? Something the matter?” my father asks with a hint of worry in his voice.

  I press the heel of my hand against my forehead. “I have a killer migraine. I’m going to retire for the evening.”

  “Oh, what a pity. Would you like me to escort y—” Patrick starts.

  Again with this crap?

  “I can find my way to my room. Thanks,” I say curtly.

  Without waiting for his reply, I stride across the room toward the nearest exit. Fatima, my faithful governess, catches up with me when I reach the second-floor landing. I want to send her away, but if she doesn’t help me undress, the only way I can get out of this torturous attire is if I use my chains to rip it apart. I don’t particularly care if the gown is destroyed, but I don’t want to answer the questions that will surely follow.

  “I thought you would stay longer at the party,” she says as soon as the door to my suite closes.

  “Why? You know I don’t like those things.”

  “No reason.”

  She works in silence for the next few minutes. When she unclasps the back of my dress, a breath of relief escapes my lips. I run my hands over my ribs to make sure the bodice from hell didn’t crack any.

  “Bless the stars. Don’t ever force me into anything like that.”

  “Oh, Andy. You’re so dramatic. It couldn’t have been that bad. And what did I say about you catching the eyes of all the young men at the party?”

  “All the young men? Do you mean two?” I raise an eyebrow, hoping she catches my gesture.

  “Two of the most eligible bachelors in Hawk City!” She claps.

  I scoff. “Gag me. Patrick is an abhorrent weasel who thinks flirting with me is a sacrifice.”

  “Child, where did you get that notion?”

  “I heard him talking about me with his friends. They all had a great laugh at my expense.”

  She gasps. “That’s horrifying. If what you’re saying is true, then your father must be made aware at once.”

  “No! I don’t want him to know. I’ll deal with Patrick.”

  “Andy. What are you planning to do?”

  I whirl around, pulling my hair free from the elaborated style. “Oh, nothing.”

  “I know that smile. You did something already, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe. I want you to watch the security tape facing the street later and tell me what you see.”

  She harrumphs but doesn’t press further.

  Now that I got Fatima to stop pestering me about guys, I should let things alone, but I can’t stop thinking about Stephan. Damn it! I bite my lower lip to stop myself from asking questions, but it’s useless.

  “What do you know about Stephan Silverstone?” I finally cave.

  “Oh, so you’re suddenly interested in my intel now.”

  Ignoring her jab, I continue. “He’s… strange.”

  Not the right word to describe Stephan, but if I voice the impression I got from him, Fatima will start planning our wedding.

  “I didn’t notice anything peculiar about him. He’s easy on the eyes though, and that’s a fact.”

  She doesn’t need to remind me of that. Even blind me could sense it.

  “You know I don’t care about appearances. I can’t appreciate his good looks anyway. Patrick said the Silverstones are rumored to be involved with radicals. Did you hear anything like that?”

  “Oh no. Nothing of that sort. His father, Gunther Silverstone, is a renowned art collector. He has several art galleries in different cities in the country. I’m not sure where Patrick heard such nonsense, to be honest.”

  Patrick must have thought Stephan was competition and made up the whole thing. It’s right on brand for him.

  That’d better be the reason. The idea that Stephan is involved in a clandestine society is not only disturbing, it’s very bad for me.

  Automatically, I run my fingers over the invisible scar on my right hand. My stomach coils as I sense the trace of power. I curse in my head at my stupidity again.

  “What’s the matter, Andy?” Fatima pulls me back to the here and now.

  Shaking my head, I say, “Nothing.”

  She makes a sound that tells me she doesn’t believe me. Whatever. The beauty of our relationship is that I don’t own her any explanation. She’s not my mother, even if sometimes it feels like she is.

  “I laid your pajamas on your bed. Will you be needing anything else this evening?”
>
  “No, I’m hitting the sack soon.” I force a fake yawn to emphasize my statement.

  “All right, then. Good night.”

  I don’t move from my spot until I hear the sound of the door clicking shut. Then I stride toward it and lock it for good measure.

  I’m not tired at all. On the contrary, I’m wired. I veer toward my desk and fire up my laptop. Gliding my hands over the braille keyboard, I type “Stephan Silverstone” and wait for the search results to come back. The computer software reads the text out loud. I click every single link that showed up on the first page, and they all paint the picture that Stephan is the perfect son and student. There’s no dirt to be found, which is enough to make me suspicious. No one is that perfect.

  I push my chair back, frustrated with the lack of results. It’s clear I won’t find anything useful by regular means.

  The main question is if my curiosity about Stephan is reason enough to risk my peace of mind.

  Decisions, decisions.

  I hate making them.

  7

  Andromeda

  I scream when Fatima invades my room and begins to open the curtains. Not that sunlight has any effect on me, but she’s being loud as fuck on purpose.

  “Good morning to you too, Andy.”

  “Ugh! What are you doing? Let me sleep.” I cover my face with the pillow to muffle the noise. I had zero sleep last night thanks to Stephan Silverstone. I couldn’t get him out of my head.

  “No can do. It’s almost noon, and your parents are expecting you.”

  Cursing under my breath, I toss the covers aside and sit up. “Why?”

  My tone is innocent enough, but a part of me wonders if this is about Patrick’s destroyed Ferrari. Boy, if he figured out this fast that it was me who destroyed his toy, I underestimated him. Facing the consequences of my deed would be easier if I had witnessed his reaction first.

  “I don’t know, but they did ask me to make sure you looked presentable.”

  My stomach bottoms out at the same time a bout of sickness hits me.