Page 41 of Guarded By the Phantom

“So, there I was, chained up and slowly cooking while the cult stood around the pyre and chanted their prayers. And since I was so close to puberty, my beautiful, smart body decided it was the right time to kick it off. My survival instinct turned on when I needed it the most. As the pain increased, I dealt with it by looking at those nutcases who were killing me and fantasized about all the ways I would slaughter them if I was free.

“Some, I wanted to throw in the fire and smell the glorious aroma of their roasting flesh. Others, I wanted to tear limb from limb. I was strong already. I knew I could break bones if I put in the effort. And the rest I just wanted to chase, you know? I wanted them to know I was coming. I wanted to follow the trail of urine after they pissed themselves from terror.”

I gave her a penetrating look, curious how she’d react. She swallowed, cleared her throat, and nodded faintly.

“Well, I think that’s fair. They were literally killing you, I mean. They deserved it.”

“Right?” I exclaimed, excited. “I think so, too! But would you believe one girl said I was a fucked up psycho after I told her all of this? Like, I wonder what she would do if someone tried to burn her alive. Don’t tell me she’d try to give them flowers.Thatwould be fucked up.”

I laughed. She made a muffled noise of assent, then hiccupped again. I leaned in so our faces were level, and she pulled back slightly, though didn’t recoil.

“Is this bothering you? Do you want me to stop?” I asked, realizing that maybe she was suffering through my tale out ofpoliteness and didn’t really want me to burden her with mybaggage.

She shook her head so violently, her braid slapped the back of the couch. Her eyes were determined yet wet with what I realized were tears.

“Keep going. Tell me everything.”

Chapter 14

Barbara

Icouldn’t believe he was laughing and telling jokes while reliving this horrible cruelty. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. How could people be so despicable? They kidnapped a nine-year-old boy and tried to kill him just because of his species? Like it mattered! After spending a day in Phantom’s company, I almost forgot his face was a skull sometimes. He was just… Phantom. Not anabomination.

“Whoever named your species was an idiot,” I mumbled when he stayed silent, staring at me intently with eyes that glowed silver.

When we sat in the shadows where the light of the desk lamp almost didn’t reach, I glimpsed his eyes set deep in his sockets, their glow helping me see better. He had vertical pupils like a cat, black slashes through the glowing irises. I wanted to lean in to see them better but held back.

“I kind of like it, though,” he said with a shrug, chuckling under his breath. “Did you know that abominations have the highest proportion of criminals to the general population? Imean, we’re almost extinct, so there are few of us left, and still most choose the life of crime. Makes you think, no?”

I shook my head. “If people try to kill you since you’re babies, no wonder you choose violence.”

He laughed darkly. “We don’t choose violence. It chooses us. Because that survival instinct I told you about, doll? Well, it works like this: whenever an abomination feels threatened, we hone in on the threat with one intention: to kill. Everything else falls away. That was what happened to me that day.”

I took a shaky breath, perversely relishing the tang of smoke from his cigarette that he crushed in the ashtray. I never imagined I’d enjoy it, but it was the same scent that clung to the jacket he threw around my shoulders after I was almost murdered. It meant safety.

“My vision slowly turned red. As the pressure and pain in my body grew, adrenaline pumped into my veins. Only one purpose remained in my brain: to kill them all. And then, doll, the unthinkable happened. The wooden stake I was chained to broke before I did. I managed to get free, and I did exactly what I’d fantasized about. I burned some of them. Crushed a few windpipes. Chased a few, and yes, they did piss themselves from fear. I got them all. Killed a dozen people when I was nine.”

He fell silent, his uncanny eyes drilling into me. I sniffed, a hot tear sliding down my cheek. I didn’t sob, though. It was just a reaction I couldn’t control.

I wanted to do something, desperately. I just didn’t know what. Were there words I could say to make it better or thank him for telling me? I didn’t know.

“Say something,” he whispered after a lengthy silence that grew heavy between us.

A cold gust of wind came in through the open window. I threw myself at him, putting my arms around his neck and crushing my chest into his hard armor. I still didn’t cry but just held himhard, shaking. After a moment of stunned silence, he gently put his arms around me to return the hug. His unarmored palm was a single hot spot in his otherwise cold body, and he slid it down my spine in a comforting caress.

“I don’t know why I told you,” he said gruffly, his mouth by my ear. “Sorry you’re upset.”

“Not upset,” I said, my voice feeling hot. “Just… Glad you came out of there alive. Glad you’re here.”

He gave me no answer, just a sharp intake of breath, followed by a shaky exhale. He pulled me closer, and before I realized, I was in his lap, and he nuzzled the side of my neck. Warm bone brushed skin, and then, a scrape of blunt teeth. His mouth.

Hot and cold shivers raced down my spine. No more tears fell. I felt restless, my skin too tight. The feeling of tingly helplessness from the library returned in full force, and I made a sound, something shaky and pleading.

“You really should have called me disgusting and run,” he whispered hoarsely, goosebumps breaking out all over my nape where his breath caressed my skin. “What am I to do with you, hm?”

“You’re not disgusting,” I whispered back, tentatively running my hand down his shoulder, the shape of it muscular and defined under his armor.

I was part-delirious, part-confused, feverish and needing something. I shifted in his lap restlessly, and he grunted, his hips jerking under me.

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