Page 20 of Impenitent Claim

“Phantom!” I called. “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

The black mass shifted. There was a momentary pause. Air caught in my throat, my lungs refusing to work. He took a step inmy direction. I tightened my grasp on the weapon, focusing my gaze on the shadow creeping closer.

My heart pattered rapidly.How am I not more afraid?I was confronting a ghost!

“That’s close enough.” I swallowed.

The shadow slid in front of me, close enough to hear the whisper of his clothing.

“I said, stop!” I pressed the laser, training the red bead on his torso.

A low, rich chuckle broke the quiet of the night.

The sound trickled down my spine in a sensual caress. My body reacted in the craziest of ways. A rush of warmth curled inside me.

Stop it!

Shaking off the spell his presence shrouded me in, I held up the book. “I can’t accept this.”

His head tipped. Or at least, that was the best guess as to the motion he made. “You don’t like it? It’s the one you don’t have yet.”

Peering into the dark, I demanded, “Who are you?”

That voice came out in a strange, unnatural pitch. It was as if he was forcing the tone to sound abnormal, not an accent per se, but a gruff rasp. “It doesn’t matter…yet.”

“Oh, I beg to differ!” I brandished the pistol. “Tell me who you are and why the hell you keep sneaking into my room to leave me inappropriate gifts?”

His voice held a bite of anger. “Inappropriate?”

“Yes! Very,” I hissed. “Do you even know who I am?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “You’re mine.”

I opened my mouth, but words failed me.

In the distance, the wind howled with a frightful roar, but closer, all was still, as though the night itself were holding its breath, waiting to see how this strange encounter played out.Thick shadows danced, broken in places by the pale silver rays of the moon that pierced through the skeletal canopy above to allow delicate streams to trickle below. One such beam nearly revealed the spectre’s features.

Is he wearing a mask?I couldn’t tell.

No, his eyes were visible, although perhaps there was a cloth tied to conceal the lower portion of his face. I wanted to banish the shadows, stare into those eyes, and discover the truth! The air rushed sharply into my lungs. Why did the mystery excite me? It shouldn’t. Any sane person would pee themselves.

“Take the book,” I insisted, waving it in front of me. “And don’t bring anything else.”

He took a step forward, the tome pressing into the solid presence. “It’s a gift, rusalka.”

That word. It wasn’t gibberish that I made up while asleep. It was real, just like him.

I cleared my throat, refusing to sway from my purpose. “My loyalty can’t be bought.”

A rough exhale barked from his throat. It could have been a laugh. “That’s the thing about gifts. They are about my intentions for you. They’re passive; you do nothing. You aren’t expected to reciprocate—even with loyalty.”

“Obviously you know nothing about the mob,” I scoffed.

He took a step forward, causing my heart to jump as he closed the distance. This time the barrel of the pistol grazed his front. “I know that you’re missing that special edition from your collection. I’d hoped it would be something you enjoyed, after the disaster of the travel journal. Don’t you like it, sweet siren?”

The intensity of his gaze sent a rush of something raw and primal through me. Made Men didn’t look at me this way—like they wanted to devour me.

“You didn’t leave a travel journal,” I whispered because I had to say something, try something. Anything to break the spell his presence cast over me.

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