Page 38 of The Phantom

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“Nothing to say, Astra?” she inquired.

He didn’t jump up or accuse or reveal a single beat of concern. Didn’t display any indication of his thoughts. He knew better. As soon as an opponent realized their effect on you, they owned you.

“I have plenty to say,” he offered pleasantly. “But I don’t think you’ll like any of it.” At last he deigned to stand, putting himself between Blythe and the visitor.

The wraith looked him over. “My, my, aren’t you a delicious treat? More so than I expected. I’m thrilled to say rumors are true for once.”

He studied the buxom redhead who reclined on the bed, perfectly at ease in the midst of a brutal warrior and his chained prisoner. She must know what many did not. Though the Astra Planeta could create worlds, they couldn’t handle spirit beings at will. One of the reasons Erebus had utilized his armies of phantoms to such a degree throughout the eons of their war.

But, even if Roux could handle this wraith, he couldn’t kill her yet. The ruby linked her to Blythe, and that link was currently open. If the wraith died right now, Blythe died as well. She might not revive.

Frustration pricked his nape. “If you came for the harphantom—”

“Let me stop you there. I came foryou, darling. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Introductions must first be made. I’m Penelope the Available.Veryavailable. And you are...?”

“Already tired of this conversation. Why are you here?”

She smiled, unbothered by his harshness. “I’ll call you Sir Hugsalot. Hugsie for short. Since I’m a businesswoman by nature, I’ll cut to the heart of the matter. For starters, I’m here to welcome you to our humble world. For enders, I’m owed one hundred meals in heels.” Her pitch hardened. So did the glint in her golden eyes. “I’ve taken the liberty of creating a list of names. You will fetch each female, or Iwillreclaim my sweet Blythe. You did notice my mark on her, yes?”

“Try to take her from me. I dare you.” He offered no more. While he couldn’t handle a wraith, hecouldhurt her. There were ways.

Behind him, Blythe grunted, no doubt fighting her weakness with every fiber of her being and spewing silent curses his way.

Penelope eased into an upright position, her smile growing wider. “I see you haven’t yet realized your predicament. Let me explain it in a way you’ll understand. I can aid your mission...or ruin it.”

He raised his chin a notch. “I promise you, wraith. My predicament is far better than yours.”

“I do hope you won’t make me teach you otherwise.” All teasing seduction, she glided to her feet, revealing a short pink dress with a deep vee up top and a ruffled skirt that did little to hide her panties. Tracing a sharp red nail between her breasts then plucking a piece of folded parchment from beneath the gown’s fabric, she said, “Last chance to agree to fetch my meals.”

He arched a brow. “If you’d done your research, you’d know I never reverse my decisions.”

She patted her mouth as she yawned. “I guess I hoped you’d make an exception since you cannot save yourself from battle by altering the atmosphere and putting anyone to sleep. Yes, I know about that.”

“I can manipulate the air in other ways.” Maybe. Probably. Creating airborne pain toxins required a whole different skillset. “You will remove the ruby or—there is no or. You have no other options.”

“Don’t be silly. I haveallthe options.” Penelope waved the parchment in his direction. “Are you sure denying me is the correct course? Even though I’ll rain more torment upon you than you’ve ever known?”

As if such a thing were possible. With a father like Mars, a mentor like Chaos, and a head full of mental prisoners who reviled him, Roux had already experienced the worst torments imaginable. His memories offered a fresh fileting every morning, and nothing anyone else did to him could ever compare.

In an attempt to prove it, the escaped prisoner screamed. Rage echoed through the chambers of his mind. So annoying. Who was this persistent male? Where did he hide, and why did he make himself known only at times like this?

“I’ll take your silence for a yes, you wish to deny me.” Penelope shrugged, resigned, and returned the parchment to its proper place. “Very well. I’ll allow you to enjoy the rest of your morning. But we’ll be seeing each other again real soon. That, I promise you.” With a wink, she glided to the wall of windows and whisked outside.

He waited several beats, lest she return, before concentrating on Blythe, who sagged in the chair, limp. Should he offer to feed her his blood? His soul? Other phantoms had smashed their lips all over his body. Why not her? Yes, it was a process he’d always detested. While souls regenerated and the pulling sensations were temporary, the memories lingered, festering with all his others. But. He had to admit he was curious to learn how he affected his charge.

If her mouth felt half as pleasant as her hand...

The fire reignited in his veins. Soon, he burned. Before he could make the offer, Blythe vaulted to her feet, her strength oh, so clearly returning. Well. Time to chain her to the bed, then.

Her eyes narrowed. Extending her shackled arms in front of her to ward him off, she snarled, “We both know Miss Murder just proved enemies can sneak up on you. Meaning, yes, you’re a terrible guard dog, and I’ve gotta be able to defend myself if I have any chance of surviving. Don’t you eventhinkabout—”

He flashed mere inches from her and clasped her by the biceps. Anger, irritation, and embarrassment collided within him. “I never make the same mistake twice. The wraith won’t succeed again.” He lifted the harphantom off the floor and hauled her to the bed, where he rehooked her to the metal links. “If you hadn’t guessed, she-beast, the breakfast and our bargain are over.”

Blythe fumed for the next four days while Roux lived his best life, going out with one beautiful immortal after another, completing his nine remaining dates as vowed. But, yeah, okay, sure. Those rendezvous had sucked for everyone involved. The guy had zero game. Like, none. Basically, he pretended he was alone while the women fawned or sexually harassed him. He never spoke a word. Not even when he spent quality time sharpening too-sharp weapons while sneaking searing glances at a certain prisoner who remained chained to his bed, making said prisoner wonder what thoughts wove webs inside his head.

But back to the dates. The hopeful females always arrived with winks and smiles, and they always left with grumbles of disappointment. No matter their species, lack of dress, or suggestion of activities, Roux remained gruff and utterly uninterested. Touching wasn’t allowed. Ever.

So why did he welcomemine?


Tags: Gena Showalter Paranormal