Page 25 of The Phantom's Vice

In an instant, the tigers relinquish their prey, stalking back to the Madam’s feet before plopping to the ground, licking their canines the whole way.

“Good girls,” she coos, raking her nails through their bloodied fur as she gives us all that smile of hers. “Fortunately for P-1313, he remains indispensable to me. Unfortunately for Mr. Hollis…” She chuckles maniacally as she gazes toward the Table member’s remains. “Nix and Niege still needed to be fed.” She turns those beady black eyes onto me. “Remember that, Boy. If you disappoint me again.”

I nod, backing out of the room as soon as she waves me off. “Someone clean up this mess! And open a window, it’s starting to smell. We’re notanimalsfor fuck’s sa…”

Her voice fades to nothing as I turn, traveling back down that bloodred hallway.Was that supposed to intimidate me? No. She knows that wouldn’t do the trick. It was a scare tactic, for sure—it just wasn't for me.

Perhaps there’s more turmoil within her inner circle than I knew about. It will certainly make things easy for me if she ends up killing off her Table members out of paranoia. Fewer bodies to deal with.

That’s what I’m going to tell myself, anyway.

CHAPTER TWELVE

BRETT

Jane Evangeline: Entry # 6

I’ve met with Hudson several times since my last entry—Hudson is R-57’s real name, a fact I have promised to take to the grave. I admit, our outings have turned into a bit of a social hour. I can’t help it—I know I’m supposed to be asking questions about the Sanctum, but Hudson is just sointeresting.He’s seen so many places and done so many things.

I might even consider dating him if he wasn’t a ruthless killer.

But the fact of the matter is that he is, so I have to focus. I have to keep the next meeting strictly professional.

Sometimes I question my choice to become a journalist.

Surprisingly,nothing strange happens for the rest of the week. I deal with the knowledge my mother was tortured before she died by activelynotthinking about it. It’s gone well so far—the only downside is I’m a little jumpier than usual. Like I’m waiting for the boogeyman to jump from every shadowed hallway and corner I come across.

But there’s nothing. No more notes or mornings waking up to the scent of lemon cleaner and freshly laundered towels. I admit, my life has been a little dull without the daily heart attacks. Not that I’m complaining—it’s just different. Or the same. I’m honestly not sure of anything anymore. Things seem so upside-down since I found the Phantom’s DNA that day.

To prove my point, my floor-length ball gown snags on the point of my heel, nearly sending me face-first into the Capitol building's stone steps. Normally, I would be snuggled up in bed with a bag of greasy Chinese food and Venom, but here I am. All dolled up for the senator’s ball.

“Oh, fuck this,” I grumble, hiking the silky navy material up to my thighs before trying the stairs again. The dress isn’t bad—I actually really enjoy the way the material hugs my curves—but I have minimal experience in heels, and I feel a little morethan ridiculous stumbling into the building with all these other women who look like they came out of the womb with Barbie feet.

A woman with an emerald broach the size of a baseball shoots me a nasty sneer, and I return the favor with one of the brightest smiles I can muster. She huffs, turning to say something to her friend—possibly to talk shit about me—and I honestly don’t blame her. I don’t belong here, and there’s absolutely no hiding it. But I have a job to do, and no amount of judgment from these snooty ladies will stop me from doing just that.

Just a few hours and this will all be over.I repeat for the thousandth time tonight.Focus on the target, and everything will be fine.I breathe a sigh of relief as I get to the top of the steps, and I scan the crowd of masked faces, desperately trying to recognize Jim’s jaw in the crowd.

The Phantom could be any one of these men, and there would be no way for me to know.

I quickly shake off the thought, knowing I’m being paranoid. He wouldn’t do that. There are too many witnesses. Too many chances of being caught. No Phantom would dare take that kind of risk.

“Damn, Brett. You clean up nice.”

I whirl around, jerking my chin in the air to facea tall, brown-haired man in a gold mask. The raised filigrees along the outer edge catch the light with each slight movement. “Jim.” I smile, taking a step closer to him out of impulse. “How did you know it was me?”

Jim’s lips tip in a sarcastic smile. “You’re the only one here who would risk the embarrassment to take the stairs easier. Dead giveaway, hon.”

“Oh, shut up.” I laugh, rolling my eyes playfully. “Next time, you get to wear the heels.”

“Yeah, that’s going to happen.” Jim chuckles, placing his hand easily on my lower back. I jump at the contact and give Jim an apologetic smile when I see his face drop.

“Sorry. It’s just?—”

“Yeah. I know,” he grumbles, taking off toward the front doors without looking back. “Come on. I need a drink.”

I frown, following him slowly.What the hell was that?I spend little time thinking about it, because a server is thrusting a champagne flute into my hand in the next minute.

“Oh. Thank you,” I say, turning my head to give the man a small smile. He’s wearing a large black bird-shaped mask, reminiscent of the ones they used to wear during the plague. A large beak-likestructure juts out, covering the upper third of his face. The only thing truly visible are his mouth and eyes.And those eyes…

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