Page 106 of The Phantom's Vice

My vision swims in red as I race toward Brett and the Table member, my dagger poised at the level of his throat. I watch as he tries to draw his own dagger from his pocket, and knowing I’m still too far away to get a direct hit in, I launch my blade across the room, refusing to stop until I get to Brett. My dagger lands square in his forehead with a satisfyingshunk,and as soon as Brett shoves the man back, his body collapses to the floor. Without so much as a glance behind her, she races forward toward the cats, her expression telling me she’s willing to fight the thing off with her bare hands if she must.

But then, the strangest thing happens: the tiger begins tovibrate. Those bright yellow eyes roll back as tremors wrack its huge body, the snow-white hair sticking straight up like it just got shocked with a bolt of electricity.

“Oh my God,” Brett whispers, lowering her arms as the tiger slumps to the floor with a mightythud,its pink tongue lolling to the hardwood asits life leaves its body. At the back of its neck sits Venom, his pointy canines digging deep into the tigers electric collar, clearly unaffected by the jolt that sent the poor beast to an early grave. Venom’s angryyowlsmingle with the Madams screams, reverberating off the stone walls in a macabre symphony.

“My babies!” Madam wails, falling to her knees as tears well in the eye slits of her elaborate gold mask. “Look what you’ve done!” she screeches, crawling to her fallen tiger. She looks wildly at each of the statuesque Table members, all too terrified to make the first move.

“Kill them!” she screams, pointing a shaking toward me, then Brett. “Someone fucking kill them!”

I look at Brett’s pale face, at the raw determination set in her delicate features. She’s already been through so much—I refuse to let any of these people take her life.

“That will not be happening,” I snarl, adjusting my grip on the dagger as I stare each one of them down. “You touch her, you die. You look at her, you die. Think about her? Guess what?” I launch my blade across the room, taking out another Table member with ease. “You fucking die.”

My body moves before I know what I’m doing. My attacks are so methodical, so furious, thatthey’re almost inhuman—a concentrated flurry of twists, blows, and slices that are delivered without an ounce of remorse. Brett stands frozen as I mow through each of the Table members in seconds, red pools of blood spilling across the floor and soaking the carpet in a deep maroon with each body I add to the circle.

To my amazement, the Madam doesn’t move as it’s happening, just sits with her face in her hands, her shoulders wracked with sobs for her fallen tigers. The sight is depressing, though I don’t feel bad for her in the slightest. I certainly feel bad for the beasts she taught to have a taste for human flesh, but for her, I harbor nothing but contempt. It creeps down to my marrow, infecting every cell in my body until the fire consumes me. I want tohurther.I want to kill her.

As I’m drawing my knife over the last Table member's throat, I look up and see Brett lining up the barrel of a gun she must have found on the floor. She holds the tip of my barrel level to the Madam’s head, taking a steadying breath with her finger tightening on the trigger. I see the through pass in her eyes. How easy it would be to take the shot and end this.So, so easy…

Her index finger tightens to the point ofno return, and just before the shot fires off, a scream breaks the air. Except, this time, it’s coming from me.

“Brett,NO!”

But it’s too late, and the bullet is on its trajectory, right toward the Madam’s skull. Like she has some kind of freaky sixth sense, the Madam dives to the side right as that trigger clicks, and her bullet lodges into the floor inches from where Madam’s head just was. She springs to her feet with an inhuman snarl and races forward with her red claws stretched toward Brett’s throat.

Brett tries to fire off another shot, but Madam is too close, and the bullet whizzes right past her shoulder. Madam knocks the gun out of Brett’s hand with a quick strike to the pressure point on her wrist, and in the next moment, she crouches low, sweeping her leg under Brett’s feet and sending her body careening backward to the floor.

I race forward as she slams into the ground, the sound of the breath leaving her lungs, taking all the oxygen out of mine. I’m still too far away, and I watch helplessly as the Madam’s hands wrap around Brett’s neck andsqueeze.

“If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,” she snarls, a manic sheen in herbright green eyes. “You useless, horrible little brat. All you had to do wasdie,and none of this would have happened! I am thequeen,dammit! I am therulerof this city! I am yourgod,you ungrateful little cunt,” she spits, her voice raising an octave as her madness takes hold. Her crazed laugh bounces off the walls as Brett’s face purples. She kicks and fights against the Madam’s hold, but she’s far too strong—almost as strong as me, for fuck’s sake—and there’s no way for her to break free.

“And you—” Her voice cracks as her hands tighten.“Youare the fucking worm beneath my shoe. And now, you are going to die?—”

The Madam’s voice is cut off with a horriblesquelch,and Brett watches with wide eyes as the tip of my dagger presses through the center of her throat. Beads of rubies pill at the edges of the wound, and when I yank the blade back, a waterfall of red rains down on her, some of it unfortunately trailing into her nose and mouth.

Brett chokes on the warm red as she scurries out from underneath a dying, gasping Madam, taking in choking lungfuls of her own needed oxygen.

“Brett darling,”I whisper, taking my face between his hands and attempting to wipe the redaway as best I can. “Darling, talk to me. Can you breathe?”

She nods, but is still unable to speak, and I pull her gently into my chest, breathing in a deep, calming breath of her scent.

“Come on, beautiful,” I whisper, cradling her against my chest as I stand. The Madam is gasping on the ground, horrible wet gurgling noises pouring from the hold in her throat. I notice Brett looking, and I grip her chin, forcing her eyes away from the scene.

“Don’t watch,” I murmur, making sure her eyes are locked one me instead of the horrible sight at my feet. “She’ll be dead soon enough.”

Brett nods, casting her gaze toward Venom, who is settling into one of the pockets in Rupert's knapsack. As soon as the little cat is secure, Rupert follows me out of the room, his nails clicking against the floor with each step. I pull Brett impossibly tight to my chest, using my body to block the carnage in the room from her sight as I step through the golden doorway and toward the maze of tunnels.

“Ghost.”

I’m ducking through the opening as her tinkling voice breaks out, and I stop short, examining her expression for any sign of discomfort.

“It’s good to hear your voice again, darling,” I murmur. “Are you in pain?”

She shakes her head, but I don’t miss the slight wince at the corner of her eye from the movement. I’m sure her throat is killing her—the sooner I get her to a doctor, the better.

With one last lingering glance, I hurry past the mouth of the tunnel, having to look away to focus on my footing in the dim passageway. I normally wouldn’t have to, but there’s a fuzziness growing in the corners of my vision, causing me to stumble every step or two.

About halfway down the first stretch, I come across Kain’s and Maverick’s slumped forms, and for a horrible moment, I think they’re both dead. Rupert lets out a low whine, pressing his nose against my leg as he mirrors my concern. But then Kain raises his head, a familiar glare finding me in the shadows.

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