Page 11 of Phantasm
No, no, no.
Three heads swivel in my direction. I can’t even look at my friends.
“That’s not... I didn’t?—”
Delacroix sucks out the oxygen in the air as he walks up to me and cups my chin. He pierces me with his eyes, then whispers so only I can hear, “You’re not in a position to fight me, miss. It’s in your best interest to accept your defeat with grace. Your friends’ lives rely on your cooperation. Defy me, and I kill them without hesitation. You don’t want their blood on your hands, sweetheart. Do you?”
I set my jaw. Fuck him if he thinks I’ll roll over and let my friends think I betrayed them, but then… What other choice do I have?
Delacroix’s smirk grows. “Good girl.”
I jerk my chin away as he steps around me and slides my hair away from my neck in a possessive touch I feel down to my toes. Everything about him is calculative. He takes his sweet time, eyeing my friends from behind me before leaning down to press a hot kiss against the curve of my neck.
I shiver at the feel of his lips and clench my hands. Why does his touch have to feel so nice? Why is the threat behind it so delicious?
He straightens up and walks away, leaving me in the wake of his enticing cologne and tingling kiss on my neck. With his hands behind his back, he saunters to my friends, and Lauren yelps when he grabs her chin, tilting her face left to right, inspecting her like cattle at a market. I want to hurt Delacroix, but all I have are my words, so I hiss, “Don’t touch her.”
Ignoring me, he moves down the line until he stops in front of Keith. “You must be the leader.”
Keith meets his disgusted yet lazy gaze head-on, his nostrils flaring as he tries to reign in his emotions.
“That wasn’t a smart move you pulled.”
Keith spits at him.
Gasps ring out around the room, but the Elders at my back remain deadly silent. My heart beats so hard I struggle to breathe. Delacroix accepts a tissue handed to him by one of the Disciples and wipes his shirt clean of spittle while chill-inducing screams filter through the walls, and then he hands it to the Disciple, who bows before retreating into the background. “I believe you’re familiar with our traditions, Mr. Turnbull,” he says, proving that he’s done his research. Proving that he made true to his promise to hunt me. “I should kill you for your insolence alone, but I respect tradition, so you’ll get to choose.” He pauses for effect. “Join the Exodus or die.”
Keith turns red with fury. “I will never join the Exodus.”
“Very well,” Delacroix says, dismissive, as he turns away and inclines his chin to one of the Elders behind me. “Mr. Vanderbilt. He’s all yours.”
The man behind me steps forward, and the guard behind Keith shoves him to make him move. I rush to Delacroix. “What are they doing? Where are they taking him?” Frantic, I try to get to Keith, but Delacroix blocks my path. “Mr. Vanderbilt has offered a hefty sum for your friend.”
“Paid you?” I try to move past him again. They’re nearly at the door. “Keith!” I shout.
Delacroix leans in close. “Mr. Vanderbilt has a penchant for torture. He’ll cut your friend into tiny pieces while he’s still alive and drag his death out for hours, maybe even days.”
“Days? But the Reckoning?—”
“Mr. Vanderbilt is one of the richest men on the planet. His bank account ensures he’ll never see the inside of a prison cell.”
With my adrenaline pumping, I fling myself at Delacroix in my bid to get past, but he grips my shoulders and hauls me back, proving yet again how much stronger he is than me. “You can stop this, Miss van der Meer.”
Strands of wild hair tickle my lips as I breathe harshly. He’s still holding me by the shoulders while I flick my eyes between his, trying to make sense of this horror in my panicked state. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen Mr. Vanderbilt’s demon in action. There’s no worse death. But you”—he sets me on my feet and brushes my hair away from my brow—“can give him a fast, dignified death.”
Keith roars in the background as he wrestles with the guard. Another one joins in, and the sound of his furious shouts breaks something inside me.
“Okay,” I hear myself whispering. “I’ll do it.”
Warm fingers caress my cheek. Delacroix looks like the devil himself. He smiles slowly, soaking in his moment of victory, and then he glides his eyes past me as he calls out, “Mr. Vanderbilt. You can keep your money.”
I can’t look him in the eye anymore. He’s playing a sadistic game, and I want no part in it, yet I know it’s Reckoning night. Traditions must be honored. There’s no room for mercy. If an Offering chooses death over a chance to join the Exodus, no amount of begging on my end can change the outcome. Keith has made his choice.
Mr. Vanderbilt grumbles but lets the guards drag Keith deeper into the room. They toss him at my feet. The guard delivers a hard kick to his side, and I wince. All the while, Delacroix studies me closely with that small, sadistic smirk of his.
“Van der Meer has offered you a swift death,” he explains. He must see the question in Keith’s enraged eyes, because he continues. “Her real name is Cecilia van der Meer, daughter of Charles van der Meer. The sole heir to one of the largest fortunes in the country. She’s also one of the youngest Elders in the Exodus now that her parents are out of the way. Though she’s not yet ready to admit she was born one.” He winks. “Judging by your surprise, she failed to indulge such important information. Don’t worry. Many have tried to find her.” Turning, he captures me with his cold gaze. “None have been successful. Until now.”
