Page 46 of The Phantom's Vice

“Yes?”

The Phantom shuffles his feet against the stone floor, his head slightly downcast. “Would you—would you care for a tour?”

I lower my hand, trying to make sense of him.He seems nervous… why?

“Sure.” I shrug, looking off to the side. “Sounds nice.”And maybe I’ll find some way to escape.

The Phantom nods, turning on his heels and gliding toward the hallway to the left. “Come, Brett.”

I frown but still follow at his heels, unable to help my disbelieving gaze as we walk through the grand archway. “So… who built this place?”

He doesn’t respond immediately, and I cringe, thinking I might have offended him somehow. Maybe I’m not supposed to ask questions…

“I did. Well, I designed it. I had some… help with the actual infrastructure.”

Cryptic but impressive.“And where are we going now?”

“To my office.” As soon as he says it, we come to another seemingly innocent stone wall. That is, until he presses his wrist against the wall, and another secret door slides open.

Damn. I think I need one of those.

He steps through the opening, gesturing for me to follow him with a flick of his gloved hand. I do, stepping into a room that seems to be filled wall-to-wall with computer monitors. Several of them showcase black screens, but a number of them also have a live feed of people’s houses—people’sbedrooms.

I swallow, realizing he must have had a similar feed to my house.No wonder it felt like someone was watching me. He literally was.

As if sensing my thoughts, he speaks up. “Yours was one of my favorites.” He gestures nonchalantly to the wall of screens. “All of these are for business. But yours, darling…” He takes a step closer to me, clearly forgetting his earlier nervousness as he takes a deep breath. “Yours… was all for pleasure.”

I shuffle back, suddenly anxious with how close he’s gotten—and more importantly, how my body seems to be reacting to it. Iwanthim to touch me,want to feel that strange, heated electricity coursing through my veins at the contact. It’s so different from when other people touch me. There are no crawling ants under my skin, no desire to light the area on fire to get rid of the horrible sensations.

Oh, fuck me. I have a crush on the Phantom.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

GHOST

The Code: Rule #13

Obtaining a mate (whether the relationship is purely sexual in nature, or otherwise) is strictly forbidden.

Brett’s face is pale.I carefully look her over, trying to figure out what caused this change in temperament. Since she woke up, she’s been many things—anxious, furious, murderous—but never truly terrified. I wonder if it’s the thing I said about the cameras, but the more I think about it, the more I realize it’s not the case. She was fine when I told her about them. It was onlyafter,when she stepped back from me and went into her own little world.

She realized something—but what? I may never know.

“Come, Brett,” I say, waving her to follow me to the next room. It’s killing me not to be able to touch her—what I wouldn’t give to rip these gloves off and take her by the hand—but the thing Xander told me keeps running through my mind, killing any fantasy I try to conjure up.

You think she’ll let you near her?Touchher? She’s going to take one look at you and scream. Or, better yet, shoot you in the fucking face.

I shake my head, frowning at the pain those thoughts seem to cause.Except… I can’t feel pain. I don’t understand this. I don’t understand it at all.

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize we’ve made it to the library until Brett lets out a little gasp. I look at her, noting how her perfect pink lips are spread in awe as she stares at the hundreds of titles lining the walls. I want to reach out and run my finger along them. I bet they would be sosoft.So soft and smooth.

Suddenly, Brett whips her head to the side, and whatever she sees has a scream pouring from her mouth.

“What thefuckis that?” she whispers, her voice hoarse.

I look at where her eyes are trained and notice she’s staring directly at the preserved head I keep on one of the bookshelves.Makes a fantastic bookend.

“Oh, that? It’s a reminder.”

---