"Kaelen?" I tilted my head, as if the word itself amused me. "You mistake me for someone far less interesting."
Marcus pressed himself harder against the tunnel wall, his tactical manual forgotten at his feet. Thomlin's sword wavered in his grip like a flag in a hurricane. But Seraphina held her ground, those analytical eyes searching for cracks in my performance.
Smart girl. Too smart.
"You may call me Phantom." Each word dropped into the silence like stones into still water. "Leader of the Twilight Society."
The reaction was everything I could have hoped for. Marcus made a sound that might have been a prayer or a whimper—hard to tell the difference when terror stripped away pretense. Thomlin's sword clattered against the stone as his hands shook. Even Seraphina took a half-step back, her composure finally cracking.
