Page 107 of Phantom
Why on earth is he with Sol? He sees me staring at him and raises his flute glass, an apologetic look on his face. The skull on his leather bracelet glints in the bar light and I look away. Rand’s all-red suit catches my eye and I almost miss the beginning of the final verse thanks to the look in his eyes.
They’re not looking at me. He’s glaring at Sol from behind his devil mask, and the murderous scowl on his face sends my protective instincts soaring.
I take a final look at Sol and once again, I desperately wish I could see his whole face. The left side is practiced indifference, making my chest ache, and the other is hidden behind the mask. I can’t help but wonder if the light would glint off the scars as beautifully as it did in the tunnel.
When I realized he’d forgotten his mask, his bare face had stolen my breath. The burned tissue and stitched-together flesh shimmered, practically iridescent in the dim lamplight. I’d almost gotten lost in a moment of reverence when he’d stripped his shirt to reveal an intricate patchwork of scars interwoven with tattoos over his arms and chest, the veins of which all lead to a striking skull that takes over his entire back. But then realization hit, and my body had warred with kneeling in awe, and bending over to vomit.
How much pain had he been in? Atfifteen?He’d said Laurent had done that, but the Laurent I knew was nothing but kind to me when I spent time with Rand during one of my dad’s late shows. But you never really know anyone. I’m living proof of that. Everyone wears a mask. Sol is just more up front about his.
The one I’ve worn the past year hides the secrets and rage boiling under my veins, threatening to ooze from my pores.
Has my demon seen under my mask… and loved me anyway?
“You’re my pretty little muse, Scarlett. I worship your voice. Your body, mind, and soul are no different.”
“Even the darkness in my mind?”
“Especially the darkness.”
I blink as I find the last note and when I’ve opened my eyes again, my phantom is gone, and so is Jaime. Despite the applause, I feel more nerves now than before I started. I thank the crowd and quickly make my way off the stage before beelining to the woman’s restroom.
People praise me and I smile, but I can’t catch enough breath to thank them. I’m about to turn the corner for the bathroom when an arm wraps around my waist. I’m clutched from behind and tugged into a very familiar alcove. A mirror at the end of the diagonal hallway is at the perfect angle, and I can see us clearly.
The white suit jacket is a stark contrast against my satin dress and I fall back into the embrace as a strong hand travels between my breasts and up to my throat. I don’t fight when calloused fingers grip my jaw and turn my head to the side as his nose skates up the column of my neck. The scent of whiskey, sugar, and leather is overwhelming in the small space. His other hand dips beneath the slit in my dress and tugs me by my bare hip.
I moan when my demon’s lips brush my ear as he whispers. “You were perfect up there,ma jolie petite muse. Did you figure out why I chose that song?”
“W-Why?” I ask as his wide hand pulls my hips against his hardening length.
“You wanted to know why I started to follow you? It’s because I saw your darkness that night, Scarlett. Your darkness called to mine. My life was pitch black before you. You were the moonlight to my midnight.”
His forearm presses harder into my chest and his fingers brush my pulse. “Do you feel it, Scarlett? Close your eyes and feel my heartbeat with yours.”
I do as he says and swallow past his fingertips as Ifeelour heartbeats together. My head nods before I’ve even decided to agree.
“Listen, pretty muse. Listen to the song my heart beats for you and admit you know its rhythm.”
His warm lips caress my cheek and our reflection flashes in my vision. My demon of music in white. His angel in black.
Everything inside me is telling me to give in. To trust this man who understands me better than I do myself. But then my brain fights me, reminding me of the manipulation, his skewedjustice. And even though my entire body tries to rebel, I shake my head.
“I… I can’t, Sol.”
Despite my words, I soak up the fullness of his lips against my skin… until it’s all suddenly gone.
“So you’ve made your choice. It’s done.”
At Sol’s deadened tone and the abrupt chill coating my skin, I snap my eyes open to see my reflection in this dark corner.
Alone.
I hold my own silver gaze as my hands slide over my throat and belly, to see if I can still feel where his fingertips caressed me. But I can’t feel anything.
I’m numb.
If I didn’t smell Sazeracs and leather, and I didn’t know for certain that I’m in my right mind, I would’ve thought I’d made the whole interaction up.
My hands drop from my own body and I collect my breath before remembering what I was even doing in this darkened area of Masque in the first place. Taking a steadying breath, desperately trying to convince myself that I’ve made the right decision, I step out of the alcove.
