Page 1

Phantom

I was one with the shadows in the dark hospital room. The only light came from the screens measuring the heartbeat and other functions of the sleeping girl. The very stupid, very fragile human girl who was my current pro bono case.

I knew why they gave it to me. This case had a solution—a quick, painless one, if I was in a generous mood—but most Monster Security Agency bodyguards insisted on doing things by the book.

They would have guarded the room respectfully, standing in the corridor outside, announcing their menacing presence to the world.

That wasn’t my method. I wanted my mark to think she was unprotected. Cowards like him only attacked weaker prey.

The beeping in the room grew marginally faster for a moment. The girl was in a coma, her only cause for excitement most likely being her dreams. I spared her a glance. She looked so young, her skin ashen against the white sheets, her body prone and defenseless. Her hair had been shaved off, angry lines of stitches marking the places where the surgeon had repaired her fractured skull.

Poor little bird.

A soft sound from the corridor outside drew my attention. The clock on the wall showed two forty-four. A perfect time for a coward to come forward and finish the job.

I was completely still, folded into the darkest corner of the room. I’d shed my clothes for this occasion, using my natural camouflage, which was superior to anything I could wear. The only thing I had to actively hide was my head, which was now painted the same matte, light-sucking black as my armor. My belt and weapons were black, too, perfectly melting into the shadows.

Even completely devoid of clothing, abominations were never naked. The protective carapace covering every inch of my body hid whatever nakedness I might choose to show, effectively shielding all my vulnerable places. Only a few types of armor-piercing bullets could damage it, and all blades glanced off.

As did the light.

My eyes were dark, deep-set in the bony sockets of my face—deep enough that they didn’t glisten. I didn’t move a muscle, my black blood humming calmly as I waited. To an untrained eye, I would be invisible. A mere shadow.

The door clicked open, a large, nervous hand clutching the edge as dimmed light from the corridor outside spilled into the room. I had to suppress a grin at the thought of how the fucker would scream if I slammed the door shut, breaking his fingers.

But making him piss himself was not the main goal here. I needed a valid reason for killing him to put in my paperwork. So I waited.

He slid into the room, a human male of over six feet, large and hunching. I watched him, all humor at the thought of slamming the door on his hand vanishing. While I didn’t remember the girl’s name, I knew his. Jordan Beck, a twenty-eight-year-old car mechanic, was currently a fugitive from the police and the reason why the girl needed my protection.

They had dated for over a year, starting when she was still seventeen. She kept it secret from her family, but once her parents found out and made a racket about her dating a man not only older by ten years but also having a prison record, she broke things off.

That was when he beat her into a coma.

And that, in turn, was the reason why I wasn’t going to gift-wrap him and send him to jail. Scum like this had no business staying alive and eating away tax money.

The door closed, the air thickening with his scent and the frenetic energy Jordan brought with him. I flexed my fingers, getting ready. Excitement surged in my blood, the thrill of the hunt drawing me seductively closer while he stared at the bed, completely unaware of my presence.

He felt so safe right now. He was the predator, the unconscious girl his prey. How pathetic.

I braced myself as he came closer. The sound of his breathing, harsh and fast, mixed with the faint beeping of the machines. He hulked over the narrow bed, breathing harder and harder, his gloved hands shaking.

When he reached into his pocket, removing a slim syringe, I held back a huff. Now, that was smart, the best way to get rid of her without arousing much suspicion. A thrill blazed down my back. Maybe he would pose a challenge, after all.

Maybe I’d have some fun.

“You won’t put me in jail, you bitch,” he spoke, his voice low and hoarse. “You’re as good as dead, anyway.”

He uncapped the needle with shaking fingers and raised the syringe to the girl’s drip. The moment stretched, perfect and taut with possibility. Everything depended on my actions now. I literally ruled the girl’s life, and his, too, though none of them knew it.

I let the power of being in charge wash over me, flicking the tip of my tongue out to taste the swollen air. Jordan almost had the syringe notched in the port. He needed just two more seconds. Perfect.

With one leap, I sprang out of my hiding place and put my armored palm over his mouth, muffling his scream. The syringe clattered to the floor. He struggled in my hold, but I had him restrained at once.

One well-aimed strike to his temple was all it took to knock him unconscious.

“Bye, little bird,” I whispered to the girl, letting Jordan crumple onto the floor. I gripped his hands to drag him out. “Stay safe.”

I pulled his heavy body out of the room. He was a meaty fellow, taller than me by a head, but I didn’t mind the effort. I hummed under my breath as I dragged him over the linoleum of the corridor, the dimmed lamps lighting the way toward the service staircase. The steady shuffle of his feet gave a nice background to my song, and soon, I mouthed the words with a grin.

I so fucking hoped he was a fun one.

“She was a bombshell, I was a wreck, ” I sang under my breath, pushing the door into the staircase open with my hip. My armor clicked against the cool polymer.

I went down three floors, holding his upper body while I let his legs fall down the concrete steps, his shoes thudding with an echo. I wasn’t careful at all. It would be fun to watch him limp while he ran away from me.

“But I kissed her, and I squeezed her, and I loved her all night long, ” I finished the song, laughing under my breath as we finally came out into the crispy October night.

It was quiet, the alley we emerged into deserted at this time of night. I stopped just where I knew the cameras didn’t reach and dropped Jordan, letting him crumple in a pathetic heap. I lit a cigarette, prodding his unconscious body with my armored foot, but not too hard yet. I wanted to enjoy it for a few minutes.

The smoke curled over my head in lazy whorls. A tenacious moth beat against the lamp over the door, the clink of every hit mixing with the infrequent hum of traffic coming from the main road just outside the alley.

I shaped the smoke with my tongue, releasing a nicely formed heart, and sighed in bliss. This was why I loved this job. And the best was still ahead of me.

After three minutes of insistent prodding, Jordan finally stirred, groaning in pain.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” I said with a low laugh. “Look up at your prince.”

When he flipped heavily to his back, squinting up, I saw the exact moment when he took me in. His eyes widened in raw terror, his jaw falling open, and he stared, completely frozen from fear. He hadn’t seen me in the dark hospital room, so it was a shock.

My face was a naked skull, normally creamy white like finely aged bone, yet now, it was painted a matte black to complete my camouflage. I knew what he saw. Smooth planes of black bone, gaping eye sockets, a full set of grinning teeth set in a beautifully carved jaw.

I was pretty for an abomination, my cheekbones high, my outer teeth even, brow ridges prominent in a way that lent me an air of authority. But he wouldn’t appreciate my beauty, of course. He was too busy screaming from terror.

My jaw clicked as I opened my mouth, letting my tongue out to reinforce the effect. It was long, suited for catching prey like lizard tongues, meaty and triangular at the tip. It was also blood- red, giving the impression I’d just eaten some succulent raw meat. Jordan’s scream grew high-pitched as I licked some of the paint off my face, the tip of my tongue easily reaching my eye socket.

The acidic stench of urine filled the cool night air. I rolled my tongue back and laughed.

“Why aren’t you running, princess? Or would you like to get a kiss?”

The look of horror on his face grew even more grotesque, his eyes bulging, and I chuckled, giving him a moment. He scrambled clumsily to his feet and lurched into an uneven run.

“That’s pathetic,” I called out after him, taking one last drag from my cigarette before I flicked it away. “But I’ll take it.”

He ran so slowly, I could have had him within seconds, but that wasn’t the point. I jogged after him, making sure my steps echoed menacingly off the walls. Jordan sped up, letting out a gurgling scream.

“Help! Somebody! Please!”

I sped up to match his pace, my blood buzzing with the thrill of the chase.

“See? That’s how it’s done. You’re awake, running, able to scream. I gave you a fair chance. That’s what you should have done with your little bird, Jordan.”

My voice was low and measured. I wasn’t even winded from the pathetic pace while he wheezed, his body lurching as he tried to get away from the inevitable.

We burst onto the main street, almost empty at this hour. The few cars that passed went well over the speed limit. I closed in on Jordan, not giving him a chance to get a stupid idea like trying to stop a car and get help. I was right on his heels, following the stench of terror and urine.

“You didn’t even let her run from you,” I said softly, knowing he’d hear me. I was almost on top of him. “That’s cowardly, Jordan. You know what I like to do with cowards?”

He whined like a hurt animal, making me laugh viciously. Bloodlust pounded in my ears, my body primed by the chase. It was akin to arousal, pooling in my loins and pounding with pleasant anticipation.

I’d see him bleeding. Soon.

“I like to carve them into fancy shapes,” I said, patting the knife at the belt sitting snugly around my hips. “I’ve had a lot of practice, you know. Some might say I’m an artist.”

“Why are you doing this?” he wheezed out with a whimper when I ran a finger down his spine.

He flinched away from my touch. The black tip of my finger glistened with his sweat.

We were step to step, and it was like a dance. My footsteps echoed his, and as soon as his foot lifted off the ground, mine fell in the same place. We almost touched with every move, air hissing between our bodies. It was beautiful. The symmetry delighted me, and even though I could easily grab him, I let myself enjoy this a bit longer.

Terror poured off him in waves, whetting my appetite.

“Think of me as a cleaner,” I said with a laugh. “I’m the one who takes out the trash.”

Jordan stumbled with a gasp, falling forward. Before he hit the ground, I grabbed him around the middle, pressing his overheated, sweaty flesh to me. I dragged him into a dark alley, putting my hand over his mouth as he fought to get free.

“And unfortunately, it’s time. Don’t worry, I’ll talk you through it. The true art lies in making every slash look necessary and quick while I take my sweet, sweet time with you. And I will. I’m in a huge book slump right now. You’re my only entertainment tonight.”

He screamed and begged against my palm, slobbering all over my intricate carapace, but I had a gag ready at my belt. I pulled it free and stuck the lump of fabric in his mouth so quickly, he didn’t even gasp.

“This stays in, or I’ll start with your balls,” I told him evenly when he tried to work the gag out with his tongue. I turned him, still restraining his hands.

His wide, gray eyes focused on my face and he whimpered, the sound muffled. I was no longer grinning. The bone of my face stayed in place, immovable as ever, but there were small muscles in the hollows and gaps in my skull, and I put them to good use, changing my expression as much as my physiology allowed.

Right now, I was deadly serious. Playtime was over.

“Good boy,” I praised him when he sobbed but didn’t move. “Now… Let’s say you broke free and I got you with my first slash in the back. Go on. Run.”

I turned him in the direction of the far alley mouth. When he didn’t move, I pushed him hard, and he stumbled into a lurching jog. I gave him a few seconds and pounced, slashing a long, beautiful line diagonally across his back.

He howled into the gag, falling to his knees in a shivering, pitiful heap. Blood oozed out of the slash in his hoodie .

“Good!” I said, coming leisurely over. Blood dripped from the black edge of my knife, and I flung it off, glancing at the pretty arc of droplets it made on the nearest wall. They glistened, red and fresh. The sight gave me a rush of giddy joy.

“Crawl away, Jordan. Now’s a good time. I’ll give you a minute.”

He sobbed, obeying clumsily. I cut him deep enough to hurt real good, and he moved with reluctance, slowing everything down. I was tempted to light another cigarette, but at this point, it would dilute my excitement. I’d have one after.

Jordan shook, his arm almost giving out while blood soaked deeper into his clothes. I lost my patience.

“Let’s say you somehow got to your feet. Go on. Stand.”

He struggled but did as I told him. It was remarkable, really. Humans obeyed so well once you broke them in.

This time, I cut as soon as he took a step. I slashed his arm, making blood gush down his hand until it dripped from his clenched fist. Jordan cried out but kept going, which was exactly what I wanted.

The alley mouth was much closer now. I had to wrap it up.

“And then, you got a burst of adrenaline. You felt cornered, so you decided to fight.”

He stopped, heaving and shaking, and I prowled closer.

“Go on, Jordan. Turn around,” I purred. “Face your destiny.”

He did. I took him in, his terrified face, slack mouth, wide eyes, and the tears wetting his cheeks. He was a sight. He also towered above me, but that only made it all the sweeter.

Just shy under six feet, I was often underestimated in fights. People thought height mattered, but when you were a killer since the age of nine years old, you quickly learned that size had nothing to do with it.

Take Jordan. Even faced with a girl in a coma, he still trembled and hesitated, talking himself into ending her. His size didn’t make him more dangerous than me, because he was a pussy.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked, folding my arms, the flat blade of my knife snug against my ribs as I held it loosely. “Come on. Take a swing. Make it a good one.”

He blinked at me, sweat pouring into his eyes and mixing with the snot running down his face. I huffed with impatience.

“Today, Jordan. Come on. Hit me. If you make me fall, I’ll let you live.”

That caught his attention. He tried to straighten, hissing when the movement hurt his wounds. He pulled his good arm back, shaking, and I stifled the urge to yawn. I already knew it would be a pathetic swing.

When he finally let his fist fly, I merely stepped back, just enough so his knuckles grazed my shoulder. I didn’t feel it through my armor.

“Do you call that a hit?” I asked, laughing at him. “Jordan, please. Even the coma girl could dodge this.”

He grunted, swaying on his feet, and swung again. This time, I didn’t make a show of avoiding him. Before his hand connected with my body, I jabbed up, hitting his elbow from below. I redirected his momentum hard enough to make him topple onto his back. He loosed a scream, instantly swallowed by the gag. I straddled him and pressed my blade to his throat.

“Guess I’ll have to kill you after all.”

Tears streamed from his eyes, and he made pathetic noises, begging me with intelligible words. I gripped his chin and turned his face this way and that, regarding him. The chase was good, but the whole experience was barely enough. Could I make it last a few more minutes?

As I resolved to carve him a few more new ones, my comm set buzzed, announcing an incoming call. I tsked and accepted.

“How’s your pro bono going?” Fatima, my superior, asked.

She was a djinn, and they were mostly nocturnal creatures, though she worked in the daytime, too. But it wasn’t unusual to hear from her in the middle of the night.

“Oh, you know,” I said, gripping Jordan’s head by the hair to raise it as far as it would go. “Sleeping like a princess.”

I slammed his head down into the concrete. It burst like a watermelon, his skull flattening as blood spread underneath. His face was slack, eyes empty. He was dead.

“And what was that noise?” she asked.

“Just some trash I had to take out. You know how it is. Got something for me?”

“Yes,” she said, and I heard papers shuffling. “But only after you’re done with the pro bono.”

“I think I’m done with it.” I couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin off my face. “The threat is no longer in the picture. All perfectly above board, of course. He attacked me, so what was I supposed to do?”

Fatima sighed, the sound as dry as the sands of Sahara. “Oh, he attacked you? How convenient. Well, save it for your report, which I expect in the morning. Once you wrap up this case, come into the office, will you? I’ll fill you in on the new job.”

I stood up with a grunt, glancing one last time at the bloody remains of Jordan. There was a nagging sense of dissatisfaction. None of this had been enough, which worried me. This sort of experience used to sate my bloodlust for months to come. And now, I still itched for more violence, more baiting, another toe to toe dance, maybe this time with a competent adversary.

Yeah, this had to be it. Jordan had been too easy to control. I needed a real challenge. Something to truly excite me, grab me by the throat and shake up my world.

Hopefully, my next job would provide.

“Give me a hint?” I suggested, getting my black cigarette case from my belt. “Who’s my new sleeping princess to protect?”

I heard the frown in Fatima’s voice. “Now, that’s uncanny. How did you know? She’s a real princess, Phantom—or as close as you get without flying to Europe, I guess. Name’s Barbara Ashford-Kingsley, and she requires round-the-clock protection from none other than you. I know what you’ll say, and I’m not happy about it, either.”

I bristled instantly. “That’s Senator Kingsley’s daughter, isn’t it? I don’t work in the spotlight. I won’t do it.”

“There isn’t anyone else,” Fatima growled. “Look, I know you’ll probably fuck something up and give us bad press. I’m ready to clean up your mess, whatever it is, but we have no choice. You’re the only person who can protect this girl. I’ll send you a video. You’ll change your mind after you watch it.”

She disconnected, and I lit my cigarette with a curse, waiting for the video to come through. Whatever it was, it better be good.

Because I’d rather volunteer as a nanny than be some spoiled princess’s lapdog bodyguard.