Page 41 of Catalyst

“Not worried enough to call her.”

“I hate to make assumptions, but right now, you’re speaking on something you don’t understand, and I’m requesting you stop.” Her eyes fell to the ground as she exhaled. “Is there anything I can do to… repay you?”

“Repay me? For what?”

My brows furrowed as I tried to process what the fuck was going on. But, as Mrs. Voltaris’s gaze shifted to the door behind me, I understood. Part of me was pissed that she thought I’d want to be paid like some sort of babysitter, I realized there was something she might be able to help me with.

So, I cleared my throat, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

“... Does Valor University have a nursing program?”

Chapter 13

Callie

Being this tired was a new kind of torture. My eyes burned with every blink, and my body felt like it was weighed down with lead. Dr. Fields had promised the fatigue would ease as my system adjusted to the increased dose of suppressors, but right now, I wasn’t so sure.

All I wanted was to curl up in bed and forget about everything for a few hours. Yet there I was, sitting in the sun-dappled patio of an Italian restaurant, too exhausted to care that I’d been dragged here.

I leaned back in the iron chair, letting the warmth of the late summer sun seep into me as I tried to shake off the residual nerves from this morning. The paperwork required to withdraw from Valor had felt endless. And if that wasn’t overwhelming enough, halfway through the stack, Kane had texted me. His message was brief but annoyingly direct: he was in the area, he wanted to grab lunch, and neither Jace nor I could say no.

At least the weather was nice.

I rested my hands on my stomach, closing my eyes to enjoy the feeling of sunshine on my skin. As much as I hated the exhaustion, it was unexpectedly nice to not hear everyone’s thoughts. If I wanted to peer into people’s minds, I still could, but the suppressors had mostly stopped me from doing it by accident. Right now, I was savoring the near silence, the only sounds around me coming from passing cars, clattering plates, and the low rumble of Jace and Kane’s voices in the background.

They were talking about something important; I was sure, but I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. Instead, I focused on Sawyer, who squirmed beneath my skin. I didn’t think the extra heat had bothered him that much, but he’d definitely been more active since getting my fever under control.

“Hey.” Jace’s voice shattered the quiet, and I jerked up in my chair.

I hadn’t realized how close I’d been to falling asleep. Jace smirked, watching me for a moment before placing his hand beside mine.

“Is he moving again?”

I blinked about a million times, hoping to shake off the exhaustion clinging to me like a wet towel. When it didn’t, I reached for the soda I’d ordered. I knew I needed a caffeine boost, and coffee had been giving me heartburn since I got pregnant.

I took a long sip. The sugar helped clear some of the fog clouding my mind. I barely had time to put the glass down before Jace was touching me again.

“Is he?” Jace repeated.

I nodded. “He hasn’t stopped since last night.”

“... The baby moves?” Kane asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Oh yeah, he does. Callie let me feel it this morning—probably because she likes me more than you.” Jace teased, picking up a glass of red wine.

I sat up a little straighter, squinting as I watched him take a sip. Convinced my mind was playing tricks on me, I looked again, but no—he took another long drink, acting like he’d done this a thousand times before.

Where the hell did he get that? And more importantly, how?

It wasn’t like we were at home. That meant he’d had to show his ID to order… but Jace wasn’t old enough legally to drink, was he?

He must’ve noticed me staring because he slowly put the wine down, giving me a slightly annoyed look. “What?”

“Nothing,” I blurted, trying to ignore what I’d just seen.

Jace had always said he was a villain. Maybe there was some evil code where the legal drinking age didn’t matter.

“Kane,” Jace sighed, reaching for the focaccia on the table. “Calista’s being weird.”

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