Page 39 of Guarded By the Phantom

“Better,” I admitted grudgingly. “Don’t brag about it.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, his smile obvious in his voice. “Okay, are you well enough for now? We can talk tomorrow once you’re calmer. I’ll move appointments for you.”

I sat heavily on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the bright lights dotting the ceiling.

“Yeah, fine. Goodnight.”

He chuckled, and I huffed. “And Nat? Thanks. For getting up and letting me listen to you piss. It was real soothing.”

He laughed out loud, his laughter low and rich. “Anytime, Scarab.”

I clenched my jaw and hung up, looking at the door. I was completely certain Barbara was gone. I’d terrified her with my behavior and words, and now she was probably in bed, crying about being saddled with a real monster for a bodyguard.

So when I opened the door, resigned to a sad wank and an uneventful night spent roaming the manicured garden, it surprised me to see she was still there. No longer curled up in the armchair, Barbara stood opposite the door and admired my poster.

“Hey,” I said gruffly, everything I’d told Nat ringing in my head. It was true. I was falling, and it was scary as fuck.

“Hey.” She turned with a tentative smile, taking me in with wide eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a moron,” I said with a shrug. “Could you forget what I told you? I wasn’t in my right mind.”

She huffed softly and cocked her hip, watching me quizzically. “Well, it will be hard to forget since I spent all this time imagining what it would feel like to suffocate my mother with a pillow.”

I closed my eyes, cussing at myself in the privacy of my mind. Of course, she couldn’t forget. She hated me now, I was sure.

“Yeah? Weird thing to imagine,” I said, feigning nonchalance.

She shrugged, looking away with a thoughtful frown. “I guess. It was shockingly satisfying, actually. Calmed me right down, you know? I think it’s going to be my new meditation.”

“Really?” I crossed the room in a few long strides, the need to see her face up close overriding my restraint. “You’re not… freaked out? Disgusted? Scared?”

She gasped softly when I stopped just in front of her, too close to be proper, but fuck it.

“Um, no?” It came out as a question. “I mean, with myself, maybe? Because who fantasizes about killing their own mother, right? I won’tdoit, obviously, but imagining it helped like nothing ever did. I could almost feel her thrashing under my weight and… And I didn’t feel powerless for the first time in so long. It was nice.”

I exhaled in relief, my chest filling with a pounding, ripplingsomething.Barbara shrugged, looking away with an uncomfortable huff, and suddenly, I itched to tell her everything about myself. Maybe she would understand, after all. Maybe she wasn’t like all those other women who got their freak on fucking an abomination but couldn’t stand looking at me in the morning.

“To me it sounds like a totally normal response,” I said quietly, watching her like a hawk.

It was a test, and I expected us both to fail it. I would say too much and use the wrong words, and she would run from this room in terror. And yet, there was that tiny possibility that it could goright.

It was thrilling.

“What, killing my mother in my imagination?” she asked with an amused huff. “I mean, it depends on how you define normal.”

“Normal for someone like me. For an abomination,” I clarified, reaching down to take her hand.

When I felt the warmth of her skin, I realized my palm was still unarmored. A small shiver went down my back, and I pulled her to the couch by the wall so we could sit.

“I want to explain to you what happened. Why I got angry,” I said, folding a leg under me so I could face her on the couch.

“Okay.”

She leaned against the armrest, hugging her knees like she did in the armchair, her eyes huge and glistening as she watched me. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but I didn’t see any fear in her gaze, just open curiosity.

“I was born in Mexico,” I began. “It’s different now, but over thirty years ago, hunting abominations was a common practice there. And for our species, it’s natural to be ruthless when faced with a threat. When I was about one and my parents were targeted by an anti-abomination cult, they kicked me out of their nest so I wouldn’t be a burden while they fought those who came after them.”

She blinked a few times, at first confused, and then horrified. “I’m sorry, but did you say you were just one year old?” she asked, shaking her head.

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