Page 55 of Thorned Vengeance

“Wake up!” Mark’s voice is muffled by the adjoining door.

Thorn jumps out of bed and tosses me a t-shirt before pulling on a pair of gym shorts for himself. As he’s striding toward the door, Mark shoves his way into the room.

“What the fu?—”

“Turn on the television,” Mark demands.

I pick up the remote. “What channel?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

My heart pounds as I fumble with the buttons. There’s only one reason Mark would be this frantic.

The fucking Phantom.

“... body was discovered during a ghost tour by one of the guides and some tourists who were out on the town for a night that should’ve ended in fun, not death,” a reporter states.

“We thought it was a prop, but the guide said it was a ghost tour, and no props are used,” one tourist comments when a microphone is shoved in her face. “When he went to take a closer look, he freaked out and ran away screaming.”

“Although it hasn’t been confirmed yet, the PPD and the FBI will likely be linking this murder to the Phantom Strangler based on how the body was found,” the reporter says.

The room spins, black dots dance in my vision, and my breathing speeds up. Someone grabs my arms, but I can’t focus.

“Breathe, Delaney!”

I am breathing… aren’t I?

Fingers dig into my arms, bringing me back to the present. The room slowly comes back into focus, and Thorn’s face is pale and panicked.

“Breathe in and out,” he instructs. “That’s it, nice and easy.”

I follow his instructions until my vision is no longer hazy. “What the fuck happened?” I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea.

“You had a panic attack,” Mark confirms.

“Fucking great.”

Thorn scoops me up and walks over to the bed where he sits down with me on his lap. “Do you get panic attacks a lot?”

“I haven’t had one in years,” I admit. “It must’ve been the news story.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Mark asks, returning his attention to the TV to give us a small amount of privacy.

“I don’t know,” Thorn answers.

“It has to be him. We need to go, now.” I push off Thorn’s lap.

“We don’t know it’s him for sure, De,” Mark chastises.

“I know it’s him. The Phantom is taunting us,” I say confidently. “He’s moving to his next target.”

“Where do we go?”

I reach into my purse and pull out the map. I lay it flat on the bed and point. “We head west. That is where the rest of the green dots are.”

“Which state?”

I hang my head in defeat. “I don’t know.”

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