Page 4 of The Phantom's Vice

“Damn the Code,” I growl, my arms drooping to my sides as a wave of exhaustion overcomes me.I’m tired of it. Of their rules.

Orion’s eyes go wide as he whips his head around like the Madam could be listening to the blasphemy I just spewed. “Do you want a team of masks knocking down our door, Ghost? Because that’s what’s going to happen when they find out?—”

“Let them try.” I spread my arms wide, gesturing to the four concrete walls. “The Madam doesn’t know I have this property. And we’re too far underground for her to listen in if she did.”

Orion gives me a dubious stare. “I don’t know. I don’t like it.”

A humorless chuckle shakes my chest. “I know.” But it doesn’t matter what Orion likes or wants. Not really. Not when it’s this big, this important. “Did you find anything else on the girl?”

Orion shrugs, looking off to the side where a bucket slowly collects water from a leaking pipe. “There wasn’t much to find. Her record is spotless—not even a fucking speeding ticket. What twenty-six-year-old doesn’t have a speeding ticket?”

I step over to Orion and pull my dagger from the wall, inspecting the delicate swirls and filigrees on the handle. “Someone with more to hide than you know.”

Pocketing my knife, I float toward the rusted staircase, my mind a mess of moving pictures. Pictures of Brett Evangeline’s pretty face.

“Where are you going?” Orion demands, his footsteps ringing out close behind. I turn to face him, a wicked smile lighting my face despite the mask.

“To trap a cat.”

I insert the replica key custom made for Brett’s apartment, grinning when the lock twists without an ounce of resistance. I step inside, breathing in the undertones of Brett mingling with the air freshener.Cherry blossom.

I crinkle my nose, nauseous at the sickly sweet aroma drowning Brett’s lovely scent. I glance over at the wall plug-in—the vilest of offenders—and nearly stomp over to rip it from the outlet. Holding my breath, I storm into the bedroom and close the door, a deep sigh of relief filling my chest as the artificial smell fades away.

The ancient hardwood floors creak with each step I take toward her nightstand, which looks like it’s been handed down through generations. Little sunflowers are painted on the drawers, though most are faded and peeling with age. The brass knobs are tarnished, lacking the brilliant luster I’m sure they once possessed.

I reach forward, running my gloved fingers over the faded flowers, careful not to press too hard and add more damage. On second glance, they look like a small child painted them, and I smile as I imagine a young Brett, her brows pinched together with that concentrated look as she decorates the mahogany heirloom.

I push the image of her bright smile to the back of my mind as my fingers wrap around the top drawer handle. I tug it open, my heart leaping with delight as I take in the contents. The neon pink vibrator catches my attention first, and I pull it out of the drawer, running my hand over the bulbous head. My body shudders, and I’m vaguely aware of a tightening sensation in my lower abdomen as images of Brett race through my mind—her spread out on this mattress, legs wide and pussy bared just for me. The way her head will fall back as she presses this inside her, soaking it in her greedy juices.

“Fuck me,” I curse, placing the toy back in the drawer. I straighten, my hands darting to my zipper. My cock falls free a moment later, but when I palm it, I grow more frustrated at the lack of sensation. I stroke it gently as I reach inside, pulling a purple U-shaped device out to inspect. One end is smooth and bulbous like the first, while the other side is thicker and has some sort of belly-button-shaped apparatus toward the tip. When I press the button at the top, it fires to life, a low humming sound filling the bedroom. I press my thumb against the raised circular part, my brows shooting up as it sucks the leather of my glove inside.

My hand moves on its own, stroking faster as I piece together the way Brett would use this. What she would sound like if I pressed the little button against her clit.

A grunt falls from my lips as I come, and I look down in alarm as my seed spurts out, covering the purple toy in my hand. Like the sick fuck I am, I can’t stop, and I let my head fall back for the last few squirts, another groan falling from my parted lips.

I zip my softening cock back in my pants, never taking my eyes off the mess I made. I weigh my options for less than a second before I start rubbing my seed over the toy, making sure it covers every dip and ridge. The thought of Brett using it later has my cock hardening again, and I groan, fighting the urge to come on every one of her toys.

I probably would, but I know I’m pressed for time. Instead, I reach into the drawer and pull out the other two toys, shoving them toward the back of the bottom drawer.That eliminates her choices.

Satisfied, I straighten and slide into the bathroom to clean my gloves. An acrid odor slams into me as I enter, and I look down to the left of the toilet, where a litter box lies. I frown, realizing I haven’t seen a cat the whole time I’ve been here, butI quickly shrug it off.If he was going to cause me any trouble, he would have by now.

With a satisfied sigh, I get to work on the actual reason I came here—camera installation. I set up several around her bedroom, so if she miraculously finds one, I will have plenty of others to continue my surveillance. Once I’m satisfied I will be able to see every angle of Brett I desire, I make my way through the rest of the apartment, taking extra camouflage precautions in the bathroom, as there’s only space for one.

In thirty minutes, my job is complete. I make one last sweep around the apartment, ensuring everything is where it was when I arrived. So far, Brett’s situational awareness seems lacking, but she did receive training, so I can’t be too cautious.

Satisfied, I move to the door, but as soon as my gloved hand curls around the doorknob, something small and black flies through the air. I sidestep it just in time, and it knocks into the wall where my head would have been. Ripping my dagger from its holster, I turn and face the enemy, my years of training kicking in with deadly force. That is, until I see the monster I’m up against.

The little black cat squaring off with me is—for lack of a better phrase—uberadorable. Though it’sclearly an adult male, the shortness of its limbs—like that of a T-rex—give it the stature of a kitten. As if that wasn’t enough, the little white heart above his left eyebrow takes away from the snarl on its face.

The cat lets loose a hiss much too angry for the size of its tiny body, and I nearly lose it.

“What’s your name, tiger?”

The cat watches me with wary yellow eyes, its haunches raised as if to sayI saw what you did, and I’m going to end you. I look at its neck, seeing the slim silver name tag glint in the light.

“Venom?” I double over in a fit of laughter when the little potato takes a swipe. His arms are much too short, and his claws swipe the air uselessly. “Of course your name is Venom. What else would it be?”

I straighten, holding my aching stomach as another fit threatens to take hold. I can’t believe she named it that. Or maybe I can. Brett is… like no one I’ve ever met before. Crazy, but at least she has a great sense of humor. I take another glance at her guardian puffball.And she clearly still has her humanity if she took pity on this thing.

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