Page 4 of Catalyst

“Support you? Calista, we’vebeensupportive. We’ve let you mourn, we’ve raised you for nineteen years, and now you’re refusing to see the long-term consequences of your actions. This isn’t the life we wanted for you.” Father stood, a gust of wind blowing back his long silver hair as he did. “You think love and love alone will fix this, but that’s not how the world works!”

His thoughts swirled with thoughts of my naivety, how he’d raised a selfish brat, and how I was too irresponsible to raise a child. Those ideas hurt my pride more than I cared to admit.

“I’m not asking for the world to be fixed!” My voice cracked as tears burned my eyes. “I’m asking for my parents to support me. I don’t need WindWeaver or Headmistress Flora. I need Flynn and Ruby Voltaris.”

Why couldn’t they see that?

Mom gasped, and Dad looked away from meagain. His ego screamed that I was out of line and howdareI disrespect him, but if I listened closely, I could hear a whisper of guilt:

She’s right, Flynn. She needs her parents.

“Calista, you need to leave.” His voice was plain, as if he were asking me to run an errand.

“I—what?”

“You need to leave,” he repeated. “You have an hour. Get your clothes; you can keep your car, but you need to leave.”

It was like the ground had vanished from underneath me. For just a minute, I forgot how to breathe.

“You’re kicking me out… Like, for good?” I asked softly, trying to process it.

“You’ve made it clear you don’t want our help, so you need to go live without it.” He continued.

Mom’s skin grew pale as her lips pressed into a thin line. Why wasn’t she arguing for me? Her betrayal hurt more than the threat of homelessness ever could.

“But, where am I supposed to go?”

“That’s not our problem anymore. It’s time for you to deal with the consequences of your actions.”

It was too late for me to get a dorm at Valor University. I was homeschooled until recently, and I wasn’t allowed to have friends. We didn’t have family, and my job had been with the family Hero Center, which I probably wouldn’t have access to after this.

No money. No place to go. He couldn’t really be doing this…

Right?

Chapter 2

Kane

Morning was always my favorite time, which was weird considering my abilities thrived in darkness.

Back when Sulien was still here, he’d wake up bright and early to run. I’d do my best to be up and have coffee ready for him when he got back. Sometimes I’d offer him breakfast, too, but he knew as well as I did that anything I owned was stolen or purchased with stolen money, and his moral compass was too strong. He’d rather starve than accept my offers, and as stupid as that was, I respected it.

Now, my mornings were spent waiting for Jace to get home. Healsoworked under the cover of night, but hisjobwasn’t as clean as mine. Again, I’d offered to cover his half of shit; that way, he didn’t have to sell his body. But, he liked having a purpose.

His hemomancy made it easy for him to get an erection, or to help a client if they couldn’t get it up on their own. Even though Iknew he hated his job, that he came home every day feeling dirty and used, I let him do it.

The least I could do was give him some space whenever he came home. He needed to shower and exfoliate, and God knew what else to feel clean. So, while he scrubbed away the sins of ahardday’s work, I sat on the couch and watched a stray cat trying to climb a telephone pole just outside our cracked window.

The orange tabby was small, probably barely old enough to be away from its mother. Its claws dug into the splintered wood as it hung on for dear life, but the creature abandoned its mission as an expensive-looking white car roared by. I made a mental note to look for the vehicle later—I bet I could find at leastsomethingof interest by breaking into it.

But that was for later. Right now, I was enjoying the peace. The silence wasn’t perfect, but it was about as quiet as this area got... until a knock on our door broke the stillness.

My gaze snapped toward the sound. We didn’t usually get visitors—not friendly ones, anyway. Sometimes we had the stray junkie, a client looking for Jace, or some rich asshole demanding I give them back their wallet. But those knocks were usually rougher, demanding to be let in. This one was soft, almost pleading.

After a moment of hesitation, the sound came again.

“Kane! Someone’s at the door!” Jace’s voice called from the bathroom.

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