Phantasma (Wicked Games, #1)

by Kaylie Smith

To those who’ve had to claw their way out of the dark and still choose to be a light in this world⁠— I’m proud of you.

The Devil had a wicked mouth and a voice as smooth as bourbon.

Watching her mother deal with the dead had never disturbed her, but the idea of manipulating such a fragile thing as life itself, made her almost wish she had discovered her mother’s tragic fate after the midnight deadline and not received her magic at all.

“No, she’d want us to move on. It’s just like her to leave me here, alone, to carry on our family legacy.”

There were two golden rules their mother had taught them about roaming New Orleans after dark: the first was that if the dark looks at you, you never look back. That was a surefire way to be caught by a Devil.

The second rule was that if you did break the first, never ever make any deals with a Devil. Not unless you wanted to lose your soul.

Ophelia couldn’t help but wonder if she was wildly unprepared to assimilate into normal society without their mother as her guide. Death she was familiar with. Living would be the real challenge.

“The dark is for people who are too cowardly to face their actions in the light,”

Phantasma. The Devil’s Manor. A place often spoken about in whispered rumors and haunting cautionary tales in the dark.

“Go home,” the stranger advised. “A house of Devils is no place for an angel like you.”

“A heart and a key would set me free,” it said. “But you should hope we do not meet again, angel.”

“I’ve never seen anyone with such a number of possible fears. It’s a wonder you’re able to sleep, with such darkness crawling in the shadows of your mind.”

“Be careful what you reveal out in the open. Even the walls have ears here, angel.”

Stop thinking about any being in Phantasma as having good intentions or motives to help you and start asking yourself how their actions are really beneficial to them

“Ophelia,” he repeated, tasting every syllable. Her name on his tongue sounded like a wicked prayer. “You are exactly the person I’ve been waiting for.”

“You have a response for everything, don’t you?” “Yes.” He winked, and she hated herself for thinking that the gesture was attractive.

In deepening light, where senses fade, a labyrinth vast, a daunting maze. No sight, no sound, no touch to guide, navigate true or be crushed inside. Beware the beast, within the heart, and find the door, back to start.

“Call her a name one more time,” he threatened, his tone bored but his eyes alight with mischief. “I dare you.” Cade gawked at the sight of Blackwell’s tall frame, but his expression quickly soured as he spat, “Incredible, even Demons have whores⁠—” Blackwell grabbed Cade’s wrist and twisted his arm until he screeched in agony. “Incredible,” Blackwell echoed. “The audacity of men worth less than dirt.”

Necromancers were meant to be a bridge between the corporeal plane and the Other Side, to bring life and energy to that which was dead or undead.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take. Life happens. Even in death. No use worrying about things that haven’t occurred yet.”

“It’s enough that so many people already think Necromancers are dark, even evil. I will not stain my hands with blood and prove them right.”

“Are you going to need me to hold your hand while we walk through?” he taunted over his shoulder with a smirk. “Oh, bite me,” she deadpanned. His smirk grew wider. “Is that an invitation?”

“Soft hearts don’t survive here.” “What kinds of hearts do?” He leaned down until their eyes were level. “Hearts with teeth.”

“Is the thought of kissing me that horrible?” he murmured. No. “Yes,” she answered. “Did you know that every time you lie, your left eye twitches a little?”

In a realm of desire, illusions enthrall, contestants beware, lest you succumb to their call. Amongst the lustful vices, you must pick only one, when the first bell tolls the trial has begun. Before the fourth chime, the truth you must find, and the key to your freedom, beneath a bed lies.

“You’re in luck that I enjoy biting, then.” “This is a nightmare,” she muttered. “Then your nightmares must be absolutely riveting,”

“So again. Who did that to you?” “The one named Cade,” she admitted. “Happy?” Without another word, Blackwell disappeared.

She buried her face into the crook of his throat. “You came.” “You called,” he answered.

“What did you do?” “Nothing permanent.” He shrugged. “Not physically at least.” “Well, it isn’t like he didn’t deserve it,” she muttered. “We’re on the same page, then,” he agreed before waving at her to follow after him.

“I’ve had a lover,” she interrupted before he could jump to any conclusions. “But he never made me do that.” “Then he was useless and a waste of your time,”

Above a fiery abyss, your gilded cage must rise, but when it does, others will dive. Golden weights, around your chains, greed’s alluring song, a dangerous game. A sea of temptation, a choice to unfold, decide if your life, is worth its weight in gold.

“I want you to let me see you.”

“All of you. There is nothing I have seen yet that has made me look away. No atrocity you could commit to make me not want you like this. No matter how forbidden.”

“I want to know everything. I want to see all the darkest corners of your mind.” He tilted his face up to whisper his next words right int...

He was her new sustenance.

“God,” she exclaimed at the sight. Blackwell smirked. “I could get used to that name, I suppose.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Please. Your ego is big enough.”

Fall in love within Phantasma at your own risk.

“This is gorgeous,” she said as she gaped down at the elaborate garment, brushing her hands over the butter-soft fabric of the skirts. “Where is it from?” “My fantasies.” He winked.

A deadly game unfurls, upon a twisted board, watch every step you take, or your fate will be untoward. To gain the upper hand, levers are in play, but be careful which you choose, the pendulum swings both ways. Temptations in numbers, don’t overcount, forward or backward, a single key to get out.

“As it turns out, I don’t like being choked,” she muttered. Blackwell shrugged. “Not by metal collars at least.”

“Us Devils enjoy following petty mortal folly just as much as your kind does.”

“I need you to know if I had heard you, there would have been nothing that could’ve stopped me from getting to you. Hell, nothing did stop me from getting to you. I went looking for you because I got the strangest feeling that something was wrong. I had every intention of respecting your request for space until then.”

“Because I felt you the moment you stepped into Phantasma. It was an undeniable, magnetic pull that led me to finding you that first day. Yanking on that door, making conversation with a cat, dressed in blood.”

“I wanted to offer you my bargain then and there, but I knew I had to be patient. So, I made myself leave you, determined to give you space for the rest of the night—and then you found me. Because it seems that’s what we do. We find each other.”

“… yet we still found our way back to each other. Because even with my memory gone, you marked me somehow.”

There are times that you’re afraid of yourself, but you’ll look a Devil right in the eye and insult them.

“That’s not how things work, angel. Life is not measured in good or bad thoughts—it’s how you treat the world around you despite them. All the people who only do good deeds because of what that might gain them in the afterlife are no better than those who indulge in a little sin every once in a while.”

“If there were ever a divine entity I’d worship,” he murmured, “it’d be you.” “My body, your altar,” she offered.

“Devils are shameless gossips,” she muttered without acknowledging his statement. “Mortals are pitiful romantics,” he countered. “Falling in love no matter the cost.”

A trial of secrets, where blood reveals the price, true or false, make sure your choice is wise. A crushing truth, sealed by uncertain fates, false tales won’t help, for your blood knows the stakes.