Phantasma: A dark fantasy romance (Wicked Games Book 1)

As Ophelia strolled through New Orleans, there was a sense of peace in the air around her. She was almost home, only twenty or so minutes out, and when she stopped in front of the restored cathedral, she remembered why that was.

Phantasma had crumbled to the ground and vanished without a trace. The cathedral had returned to its rightful place where the Devil’s Manor once sat, no sign it had ever existed here at all. New Orleans after dark had become lighter in the past few weeks. Rumors that Devils no longer walked the streets had begun to circulate… something about the atmosphere having changed. People not as desperate to make inadvisable deals after the sun went down.

Ophelia had become more comfortable roaming the city by herself even past dusk. Had settled into the idea that she was powerful enough to look at the dark and could handle whatever might look back.

She quickened her pace up the road, hating to linger on things of the past when she had a much more exciting future. When she spotted the rose-covered gates of Grimm Manor, anticipation thrummed through her veins. She and Genevieve still had a lot to work out; they had been making an effort to untangle the delicate threads of tension from their childhood, but Ophelia had never been more confident of where she stood with her sister.

She’s going to hate your surprise, the Shadow Voice rasped.

Ophelia ignored it, something that had become easier with every passing day. She had been working on putting together this surprise for nearly two months and absolutely nothing was going to ruin her mood about it.

She hurried up their long driveway, leaping up onto the porch to push their front door open, calling Genevieve’s name as she stepped into the foyer.

“I have a surprise for you!” she announced.

She removed her walking jacket and slung it over the entryway table, slipping her gift to Genevieve out of its front pocket as she padded her way through the house to the main den. Grimm Manor felt lighter than ever, which was partially down to the fact that it had been dusted top to bottom and the girls had taken it upon themselves to begin decluttering their mother’s things, finally ready to lay Tessie Grimm’s memory to rest. They had packed up all the sentimental bits and bobs into the attic space upstairs, of course, but a clean slate meant they could start making the place really their own. And Ophelia could decide which parts of her mother’s practice she’d like to continue of her own volition and not because of any overwhelming guilt.

Since Phantasma had fallen, Ophelia had been carefully assessing what she wanted to do with her magic. She found that she’d developed a soft spot for other paranormal beings, ones such as herself, Genevieve, and Luci, who felt as if they had no choice but to thrust themselves into perilous situations when hard times struck. She wondered if there may be an untapped avenue of business to explore there instead of dealing with corpses and death day in and day out. To be a sort of safe haven to explore options of assistance in the paranormal realm before making an ill-advised deal with a being who had malicious intents.

The new Grimm legacy.

“Genevieve?” she called again as she checked the drinking parlor and the study.

When she made her way back to the living area, she slipped her shoes off and walked over to one of the large windows that lined the main wall. They had taken to tying the curtains back, letting in as much natural light as they could. A moment later, she heard footsteps behind her and smiled.

When she turned, she found Salem leaning in the doorway, the corners of his lips lifting in an exasperated smile as Poe purred away in his arms. The cat had apparently bonded to him enough over their centuries together in Phantasma that the little fiend decided to remain here instead of returning to Hell.

“Distracting your sister is not a task for the faint of heart,” Salem commented, letting Poe drop to the ground and scamper off.

She laughed. “I know, why do you think I asked you to do it?”

He pushed away from the wall to walk over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he dipped his head to press an affectionate kiss against the side of her throat. “Welcome home.”

She hummed in contentment. “Did the two of you make any progress on the locket research?”

As she mentioned the necklace, her hand automatically reached up between their bodies to touch the bauble clasped around her throat. It was cold to the touch, its heartbeat dormant since they used it to free Salem from Phantasma. It had made them all curious as to how her family received such a piece in the first place, but so far, they were unable to figure out how, of all families, the Grimm women came to possess such a crucial item from the King of the Devils himself. How serendipitous it was for it to fall into Ophelia’s hands. And though it no longer held the magic it once did, it was still one of the most precious things she owned.

She tapped a finger against it now with affection. One, two, three.

“Just more dead ends,” he answered. “Did you have any issues picking up the tickets?”

She shook her head as she held the envelope up for him to see. “They were waiting for me as promised. Thanks for arranging everything.”

He tapped a finger beneath her chin, lifting her face up to his until their lips were almost touching.

“What’s the point of having the full range of my power if not to spoil you? Convince the bank you paid off your house… take you on extravagant vacations… buy you all the pretty things you desire… I’m here to serve.” He brushed a kiss onto her lips as she rolled her eyes.

“And by spoil me you mean send my sister off by herself so we can have more alone time, here, together?” she quipped.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “We’re joining her only a few weeks later, angel. And I’ll need every second of that time to do all the things that I want to do to you. On every surface in this house.”

Her pulse raced with excitement as she gave him a mock pout and asked, “You really need only a few weeks for what you have planned?”

He grinned like the Prince of the Devils he was and leaned down to press kisses along her jawline. His next words made her shiver.

“Actually, I’ll need every second of the eternity you promised me to do what I have planned for you.”

She flushed as he dipped her back in a heated kiss, making her head spin.

Someone cleared their throat from across the room.

“There are ten rooms in this house with locks on the doors if you’re going to do this in the middle of the day,” Genevieve told them.

“There you are!” Ophelia said as she disentangled herself from Salem’s arms to rush over to Genevieve with the envelope. “We have a surprise for you!”

Genevieve lifted a brow as she opened the flap of the envelope and pulled out its contents. A surprised squeal pierced through the room, and when Ophelia glanced back at Salem, she saw that he looked quite pleased with the reaction.

“You mean it?” Genevieve implored.

Ophelia nodded enthusiastically.

Genevieve dashed out of the room. “I have to start planning what to pack!”

Ophelia laughed, and Salem came up to embrace her from behind.

“Now, where were we?” he murmured.

“I think you were about to try and ruin my soul and ravish my body.”

“Ravish your body, yes. But I think there are a few things I’d rather ruin other than your soul…” He moved her toward the velvet settee, sitting down and pulling her atop him so she was straddling his lap. “This couch for starters.”

He made a trail of kisses down her throat to her chest, right above the top of her corset line. Then he moved to brush his lips over her bare shoulders and arms, kissing each of the golden stars she had earned in Phantasma. Nine permanent reminders on her skin of what they’d done together.

“You’re absolutely incorrigible,” she hummed as she leaned her palms on his chest.

“You love it.”

She turned her head to nip at his bottom lip. “Devil.”

“Angel,” he drawled.

She kissed him then, long and slow, reveling in the little piece of heaven she saved from the dark depths of Hell.