Page 8 of The Phantom's Vice

Another knock sounds, and Momma whips herhead to me. “The fuck is taking you so long? Answer it.”

I pull open the door, but all I see are two sets of legs wrapped in some fancy-looking cloth. I reach my hand forward, desperate to feel it. Like usual, nothing happens when I take the fabric between my fingers. No sensation.

“Jesus fuck. What happened to you, kid?”

I jerk my head up to the sky, frowning at the faceless strangers. Both are wearing white masks—like I’ve seen some of the neighborhood kids wear on Halloween—but I’ve never seen this exact type before. There are no features, not even eyeholes for them to see through.

I tilt my head, wondering where that voice came from, if not from a mouth.

“What do you want?” I demand, taking on a similar tone I’ve heard Momma use when she answers the door.

The blond-haired mask closest to me chuckles. “You got some fire in you, huh? Where are your parents?”

I glance behind me to where Momma lazes on the couch. I don’t know if these men mean her harm, but I’m not taking any chances. I won’t let them hurt my mom.

“She’s not here,” I lie, pulling the door farther closed so they can’t see inside. “I’m… alone. What do you want?” I repeat, mimicking her pitch perfectly this time.

The other black-haired man sniffs the air, then pins that expressionless circle on me. “I guess they have them smoking Rebound younger and younger.” He looks over my shoulder into the house. “We’re not gonna hurt her, kid. We just want to talk to her about a business proposition.”

I don’t know what the words mean, but the way he says them has my hair standing on end. “I don’t know…”

“Hey, kid, how about you and I go outside and play for a bit while my partner talks to your mom? Doesn’t that sound fun?” Suddenly, the first mask reaches forward and claps his hand on my shoulder. I don’t feel it, but I’m watching so closely I know the exact moment his hand touches me, and I jump back.

“Whoa. Easy, tiger,” the man murmurs, holding his hands up.

“Boy? What the hell is going on?” My heart hammers as Momma shuffles to the door, and I try to shove it closed. The man’s foot is quicker than me, and he pulls it back open with ease.

“Hello, ma’am. How are you doing today?”

I shake my head at Momma to warn her, but she’s not looking at me. Why won’t you look at me?

“What do you want?” she sneers, throwing open the door. “I don’t have anything your kind wants.”

“Ah, you see, that’s where you’re wrong,” the dark-haired mask says, stepping in front of the blond one who tried to talk to me originally. “You have something that could be… very valuable to us.” To my surprise, his head tilts toward me, but I have no idea what that means.

Momma seems to, though. Her eyes widen, and for the first time in years, a genuine smile tugs at her lips. “Him?”

The black-haired mask nods.

“How much?” Momma asks, her voice rising in pitch.

The man shrugs. “The Sanctum is prepared to offer you as much as you see fit for this… acquisition. They are well aware of the value, you see.”

“Value?” Momma scoffs, seems to catch herself, and steels her expression. Then she rubs her hands together, reminding me of the little brown flies buzzing around our kitchen. “A child is a very precious thing, indeed. I’m thinking… Two fifty?”

Without a beat, the mask nods. “That is acceptable.”

Momma squeals with joy, and I find my face mirroring hers in a smile. I love when she’s happy. It makes me happy. She shifts her gaze to me for the first time, and my smile droops a tad when she sneers at me.

“What about Rebound? Can you get me more? He’s a very… special boy, you see,” she says, a laugh-like tone to her voice.

Special? My heart grows wings. She called me special.

The black mask tilts his head at her for a moment as if he doesn't understand what she’s talking about. But I do. Momma just called me special! This is the best day ever!

Finally, the man nods. “A shipment will be delivered by the end of the day. It is promised.”

Momma’s gaze flicks to me for a moment before falling on the glass pipe still smoking on the table. “Okay, then…”

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