Page 121 of Phantom
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but Rand pales at the last sentence. Sol steps forward and lays the tip of a sword on top of one of the ropes securing Rand to his chair.
“Scarlett, lock yourself inside the cage. The key works from the inside and my phone is in there, too. Call Jaime if things go wrong.”
“But, Sol—”
“Please,” he whispers harshly before pleading with his midnight eye.
Nodding slowly, I do as he says and scurry toward the iron cage. The door squeaks as I close it, but the antique key turns easily in the lock. I hold his phone for good measure, ready to call my friend, and hoping like hell I don’t have to.
Sol cuts the ropes on the other arm of the chair before tossing the sword at Rand’s feet. Rand shakes himself free and snatches the sword off the ground, lunging at Sol. There’s a clash of steel as Sol easily swats the blade away while his other arm is tucked behind his back. Rand looks much less polished than Sol as he tries to find an opening, but Sol is defending himself confidently—and patiently.
“I had the pleasure of meeting one of your loyal men last week,” Sol says, his back tensing.
My heart pounds against my chest as he finally attacks, feinting a swing at Rand’s leg and forcing him off balance. Sol’s phone creaks in my hand, so I put it back on the display table to stop myself from breaking it.
“He mentioned I should ‘watch the videos again,’ referring to all the home movies your brother made while I was under his dutiful care.” Sol bounces on the balls of his feet, on the defensive again as Rand throws himself with uncontrolled swings. “Imagine my surprise when I got my hands on the encrypted video footage from back then. I was able to watch them this week, and come to find out… while my other eye was blindfolded,youwere actually the one who set me on fire.Youmade me burn while your brother laughed.”
Sol lunges again, sending Rand stumbling backward and closer to the channel’s edge. Rand’s clear-blue eyes widen with terror.
“He… he made me!”
So swiftly I almost miss it, Sol’s sword is somehow under Rand’s chin. “Do. Not. Lie. To. Me. I saw the glee on your face. You only second-guessed yourself when you idiotically set my ropes on fire and I was able to get free. What is it like to know that your stupidity got your brother killed?”
“What’re you talking about?” Rand asks, attempting in vain to harden his voice. His fist tightens around the sword’s grip.
Sol twists his and Rand hisses as a drop of blood falls down the center of his neck. “I’m talking about how I was able to choke the life out of your brother with my own rope becauseyouburned it. Funny thing is, even after you foolishly set my binding on fire, if you hadn’t been a fuckingcowardand fled, you could have saved Laurent. I barely managed to finish him off with just the two of us. What if you had stayed and saved your brother?” Sol’s words drip with venom. “Maybe the Chatelains would’ve ruined New Orleans, after all.”
Rand’s shout is his only warning as he flings himself at Sol. My hands fly to my cheeks and I barely resist the urge to cover my eyes entirely. Enraged tears run down the cracks between my fingers, but I don’t make a sound, afraid Rand will get the best of Sol somehow. With every word out of Sol’s mouth, my anger at Rand boils and boils under my skin. I even look around me to see if there’s a weaponIcan take to finish the job, but I know Sol would never forgive me.
Rand has taken my father, but he tortured Sol, and schemed to take down the entire Bordeaux family and empire. And now he’s threatened to do it all again. This is Sol’s vendetta, and I am at peace with whatever happens to the man who betrayed me.
A curse pulls my attention away from the weapon rack and back to the combat as Sol stumbles over one of the discarded ropes. Rand leaps at him and stabs frantically. Sol lands in a roll and yanks one of the ropes at Rand’s feet. The move sweeps Rand’s legs out from underneath him. He falls much less gracefully, while Sol ends his own in a backward roll that nimbly returns him to his feet, sword in hand. Before Rand can get off of his knees, Sol is on him, blade poised at his throat just above his Adam’s apple.
“Wait!” Rand cries out just as another trail of blood drips from the new paper-thin slice on his neck. “W-wait! I’ll confess. I’ll do the confession instead.”
“It’s too late for that—”
“No, please! I’ll do it! Y-your shadow! He’s at the bottom of the Mississippi!”
Sol’s face morphs into pure rage. “You motherfu—”
Rand shrieks and ducks away. His high-pitched scream cuts off as he tries to bargain with my demon. “Stop! I-I can tell you who I’m working with, too!”
I can see the full breadth of Sol’s emotions thanks to his face being laid bare, the confusion, the sympathy, all still mixed with the well-earned hatred I have seeping from my own skin as well.
Sol flicks his gaze to me. “What do you say, Scarlett? I said earlier it’s your choice, I meant it. Death or confession—”
Rand swings his sword wildly.
“Sol, look out!”
My blood runs cold, but Sol is too fast. He leans away from the reckless attack as it cuts a thin nick on his arm, but his own blade slices through his attacker.
There’s a sickening thump as Rand’s head lands on the ground. It slowly rolls away from his body until it comes to rest face up, a look of horror forever frozen in his features.
Like he’s seen a ghost.
Or a phantom.
