Page 73 of Black Reign

Impossible.

My pulse quickens anyway.

VESPER: How can you be so sure?

His answer takes long enough that I lean closer.

GHOST: Because you're as curious about me as I am about you.

I stare at the words.

Damn him.

He is right.

And that may be the most dangerous thing about Ghost.

Not that I don't know who he is.

That somehow, without knowing who I am, he already knows exactly where to aim.

3

The digital invitation arrives twenty-six days after Ghost's friends hijack NULL.

By then, I have nearly convinced myself I don't want it.

Ghost and I have spoken every day since the bachelor party. Not necessarily for hours, although some nights have stretched dangerously close to morning. The conversations have changed too. Longer. Warmer. Less guarded in ways neither of us acknowledges.

And occasionally filthy enough that I have to close my laptop and remind myself I have never seen this man's face.

Apparently anonymity removes inhibitions.

Who knew?

Two nights ago, he sent a photograph. No face. Naturally. Black trousers, bare feet, the bottom of a white shirt, one hand resting beside a glass of Scotch.

The photograph should have been harmless.

It was not.

I responded with one bare shoulder, half my mouth, and the edge of a black lace strap.

His reply came twelve seconds later.

GHOST: You fight dirty.

I told him he started it.

He reminded me I once sent him a photograph of my teeth catching my lower lip.

I reminded him he responded by showing me half his stomach.

We spent twenty minutes arguing about who escalated first.

Neither of us won.

That is the problem with Ghost.