Phantasma (Wicked Games, #1)

by Kaylie Smith

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,”

“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 apologize if I gave you the impression that I do what I’m told.” His tone was anything but apologetic.

Despite what some mortals believed, Hell was not meant to be a punishment for humans who lived sinfully before they died. Human morality was much too diverse and fickle to base an entire afterlife on after all. Rather, those who were punished in Hell were often punished for their crimes against humanity or the fabric of the universe.

And despite what human lore loved to suggest, the beings that belonged to Heaven were no more good or bad than the ones of Hell. It just so happened Hell had been bestowed the task of punishing malicious mortal souls and Heaven the task of rewarding the ones who died with exceptional valor.

“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.”

Life happens. Even in death. No use worrying about things that haven’t occurred yet.”

I feel robbed of my first time laying eyes on you.”

“If you thought that was your threshold of pleasure—imagine being worshipped by the real thing.”

“When you share a space with the same beings for as long as we have, you tend to find those who annoy you less than others.”

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

“There’s no article of clothing I don’t know how to take off efficiently.”

It was as if he had suddenly woken her and made her realize just how untouched she’d been all this time and now she would starve without his hands and mouth running over every inch of her skin.

“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,” Blackwell told her as he tightened his arms around her waist and lifted them both from the ground.

“I will never beg you for anything,” she said. He grinned. “Famous last words.”

“Besides, if all of my inner demons were destroyed, there wouldn’t be much left of me.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he vowed. “Next time your mind tries to convince you otherwise, remember this: there is nothing about you that I find undesirable. Okay?”

As much as she hated to admit it, she craved confirmation when she did something well.

“Listen, if you need to punch a wall to relieve yourself from whatever insidious voice is in your head, I’m not going to judge you. That is one of the least strange things I’ve ever come across in Phantasma, I assure you.” He narrowed his eyes. “But letting yourself believe you’ve done something so sinful that you deserve to be in pain is another sentiment altogether. And if you’re upset about what may have happened to the others in that trial… taking care of yourself first is not a sin. You understand that, right?”

“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 into her ear. “I want to taste your sins.”

“You’re so beautiful. It’s quite irritating.”

Perhaps she would always be destined for darkness no matter what she did or where she went.

“So, maybe I don’t want to just be a distraction to you.”

“I think you might be the closest to heaven I’ll ever get,” he whispered.

But most of all she shed tears for herself. And the soft heart she would never have again.

Because it seems that’s what we do. We find each other.”

“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.”

You are the closest thing I will ever get to experiencing heaven, and I’m not ready to let it go.”

“In a different life, in a fair one, I would’ve kept you until my eternal soul withered away to dust,” he vowed to her.

“In all the darkness, in all the loneliness, you have been my one source of light,” he lamented as she began to come undone. “My soul will go to its grave with your name echoing in my mind.”

And I would trade every other soul in the world if it meant I would get to keep you forever.”