Page 44 of The Phantom's Vice

“Please don’t do that.”

I scream, my body jerking painfully against the restraints as that distorted voice echoes off the walls.Oh shit, he never left. I’m going to fucking die.

His footsteps sound out, growing alarmingly close to the bed. “Don’t come any closer! I’ll kill you, I swear,” I snarl, hating the way my voice cracks slightly.In my defense, no amount of training could have prepared me for this kind of terror.

There’s a dip in the mattress, and I know he’s taken a seat at the foot of the bed.Is this it? Is this when I die?I always thought I would have a better death—a more noble one. Maybe in the line of duty, protecting someone else—but no.I’m going to die hog-tied to a bed with a pair of fuzzy handcuffs strapped to my wrists.

God, how embarrassing.

“Brett…” His voice is barely a whisper, and a moment later, something touches my leg.

I jerk my knee, though it does nothing to dislodge his gloved hand resting there. “Get the fuck off me, fucker! I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Your vocabulary leaves much to be desired,” he murmurs, looking down at his hand for a solid minute before deciding to pull it away. “Fuckis not an adjective.”

“Yeah? Well, fuck yourself,” I snarl, irritation lighting my veins. I don’t care that he just made fun of me for saying it. He canfuckity fuckhimself with a cactus.

Ghost tilts his head. “I’d much rather you do it.”

Of course he would.“Well, tough toenails, buddy,” I snip, fighting the urge to cringe after saying it.Real threatening, Brett. He’s definitely not going to stab you to death now.

I close my eyes, waiting for the pain that comes with a dagger being shoved into my rib cage, but there’s nothing. Slowly, I crack one eye open to find him still sitting at the edge of the bed, his head cocked like he’s observing some strange creature at the zoo.

“What?” I snap, wriggling uncomfortably against my restraints.Why is he looking at me like that?

Still, the Phantom refuses to speak. He just keeps staring and staring andstaring.I bet he’s not even blinking under that mask—assuming he has real eyes or eyelids. I know he has a mouth and a jaw,but above that… who knows? Maybe he’s part cyborg. Maybe that’s why it’s been impossible to catch this fucker.

Stranger things have happened.

“What does that mean… toughtoenails?”

I suppress the urge to laugh. I doubt psychopathic killers respond well to being made fun of.But it’s just so funny.“You’ve never heard someone say that?” He shakes his head. I sigh, wishing I could press my palms against my eyes to stave off this horrible headache.

“It’s just… it means tough luck. Likenot gonna happen, buddy.” And now I’m explaining idioms to a serial killer. This day is turning out to be fantastic.

Not.

I lift my head when he doesn’t respond, noting how he hasn’t moved an inch since I last looked. He’s still sitting there, watching me.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I demand.

“Because you’re beautiful.”

He says it so matter-of-factly like he’s talking about the weather. And my stupid assblushes. Get it together, woman. He is a violent, psychopathic criminal.I shake myself, forcing a glare onto my face.I justhave to figure a way out of this mess, and then… and then…

It occurs to me there is no way in sweet hell I’m getting out of here alive. Not unless he willingly releases me.Meaning…

“What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my voice brave. “Why am I here? What do you plan to do to me?”

It might be a trick of the light, but I swear his shoulders tense just the slightest bit. For a while, I don’t think he’s going to answer me. But then he sighs. “I don’t know,” he admits, turning his head to the side. It’s the first time he’s looked away since I woke, and it sends a chill through me for some reason.

“What do you mean you don’t know? People don’t just kidnap other people for no reason!”

He shrugs, still not looking at me. “I am no ordinary person.”

Well, normal people don’t run around in masks kidnapping federal agents, so I guess that tracks.“Are you… are you going to kill me?” This time, I do cringe as the words fall from my mouth. Great, now I’m giving him ideas. How the hell did they let my ass into the bureau?

The Phantom whips his head to me, seeming to stare into my very soul. “No. No, I don’t think I will.”

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