The Charleston Chase (Phantom Knights Book 2)

by Amalie Vantana

Mother started talking about churches, dresses, food and much more, but I halted her when she started speaking of dates as far away as August. “Sam and I will be married two weeks from tomorrow.”

  My mother’s eyes widened until I was sure she was in pain. Jack laughed again.

  “You may plan the usual festivities, I want us to host a masquerade ball on my birthday, but our ceremony will take place in two weeks with only family present.”

  Sam kissed my temple. “Perfect,” he whispered, and I smiled at him, knowing that it would be perfect.

  “A masquerade ball?” Mother asked, sounding unsure about the idea.

  I laid my hand over Sam’s. “Father created the Phantoms, and I would feel like he was there with me in spirit.”

  Mother shed more tears, and Jack was smiling at me, liking the idea.

  We spoke for a few more minutes about wedding details and then I requested a few minutes alone with my brother.

  Sam collected the articles and the brown box then assured us that he would do his best to keep Charlotte from interrupting us, but he could not guarantee for how long. My mother promised to regale everyone with tales of the early days of the Phantoms and went off on Sam’s arm to the house.

  When we were alone, Jack told me that he, Leo, and Abe would be the only ones going after Harvey. Leo would never let Jack go alone, and Abe had gone to Jack with a request to be included in the search. We had captured ten of the Holy Order lords along with fifteen of their guards. I had thought it a momentous occasion, until Jack told me that there were three more branches like Levitas that he had to uncover. Harvey could have joined any one of them. Everything rested on Guinevere and her return with the news of Harvey’s whereabouts.

  We were seated on the stone bench when Jack held my hand tight between his two. “Will you forgive me, Bess, for not saving Ben, for encouraging Andrew, for not obtaining your release from the Phantoms?” He breathed in sharply, “And for being the source of most of your pain?”

  Startled by the despair in his voice, my hand gripped his. I had known that Jack blamed himself, but never to that extent.

  “Jack, you are not to blame. You did not kill Ben. You did not make Andrew give me up. Staying with the Phantoms was my choice, and do not regret my pain, for I do not.” Jack looked over at me, and I smiled at him. “I would not have found Sam if it were not for what I went through.”

  Jack slowly nodded and blew out a long breath that I knew he had been holding for nearly four years.

  We sat in silence for a little while when I voiced a question that had been burning inside me. “What are you going to do to Harvey?”

  “Find him, capture him, and turn him over to the authorities.”

  I looked at him, my surprise surely showing on my face. That was not like him. With the knowledge that our father had been betrayed by his close friend, I thought Jack would be seeking vengeance.

  “I do not want his blood on my hands.”

  Pride streamed through me. He was growing in wisdom. “What about Guinevere?”

  Jack grabbed a blade of grass and started to pull it apart. “She is trying to escape from him, Bess, and I am going to see to it that she makes it no matter the cost.”

  Fear coiled in my stomach, “And what if the price is too dear to pay?”

  His eyes locked on me. “I want what you have with Sam. I can see the way he loves you, as if you are his very soul. Well, my soul is out there, and I will fight for as long as I must to have it returned.”

  I sniffed against a rush of tears and looked away from his intent blue eyes. “You have this annoying habit of making me see your side.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Will you make Charleston your home? I do not think I could bear to be parted from you.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “I like Charleston.” He stretched his legs out before him and crossed his boots at the ankles. “I will stay, though you understand that there will be times when I am gone.”

  “As long as you return when you have accomplished your task,” I said, though it hurt to push the words out. I did not want him to risk his life, but he knew what he wanted. When Jack wanted something, he would fight through the mire of resistance, and he had always come out victorious. I trusted that he would win again. After all, he was Loutaire, and I was Raven. We were Phantoms, and even when we no longer wore the masks; we would fight; for freedom, for love, and for the right that every man, woman, and child could choose their own path.

  When Jack was ready to go back inside the house, I told him I would join him soon. I wanted a few minutes to myself. He nodded, knowingly, and went into the house, leaving me in the lantern lit garden.

  I leaned against the wall and breathed in the night air. Some of the candles had gone out, but there were still enough to see when someone joined me in the garden, but not from the house. He stepped into the light from the direction of the front gate.

  My entire body stiffened with mingled rage and disbelief. How dare he come here? I stood, ready to shout, but he raised one hand, his face a mask of pain.

  “Please, Elizabeth, I did not come here to harm you.”

  “As if I will ever again believe a word that you say,” I spat as I stood on wobbling legs. “You have great nerve showing your face here after what you have done!”

  General Harvey sagged a little, leaning his good arm against the tree. His other was in a sling. I had not known he was injured, not that I cared. My hands were shaking, and I was mentally cursing myself for not having brought a weapon out with me; not that I would have ever thought Harvey would come to Sam’s house. I should have screamed an alarm, but I admit that I was curious why Harvey would risk his life coming to me.

  “I would never have come here, but circumstances have forced my hand,” he said, the gray tint of his skin making him look ancient. “I require your help, Elizabeth.”

  Staring at him, I knew my jaw was slack, but truly, it was too much. “You are a fool if you believe that I will help you!”

  “I do not request help for myself, but for Edith.” He pushed himself upright, wincing.

  My heart was beating with more force at the sound of Edith’s name. Whatever had happened to her had to have been serious if it forced Harvey to come to me.

  “Edith has been captured by the men seeking her sister.”

  That was too much for my shaking legs. I sank down to the bench, staring at Harvey in astonishment, then disgust. How could he have allowed such a thing? He knew what they were capable of. They had killed Ben, so I knew they would not scruple murdering Edith if it served their purpose.

  “Why come to me?” I asked.

  Harvey sniffed to my astonishment. My incredulity rose when I saw tears glistening in his eyes in the light from the lanterns above. “Because Guinevere will return to your brother, and only you can persuade him to turn her over to them. Only her surrender will save Edith.”

  There were so many emotions spiraling through me as I considered his words. He stood there watching me, and that unnerved me to the point that I stood again, not liking him having the high ground. He thought he could manipulate me into helping him; he thought that I could be persuaded, and God forgive me, I considered it. But, in the end, I realized something that Harvey did not seem to consider. It was not my choice to make.

  Opening my mouth, I did the only sensible thing. I screamed.

  Read on for a sneak peek at the next adventure in the Phantom Knights series

  SECRETS

  IN

  Savannah

  Chapter 1

  Guinevere

  25 April 1817

  Charleston, South Carolina

  Secrets have the power to destroy our world and the power to save it. Secrets can be the key to success, or the guillotine of failure...it all depends upon choices. Had I known that by choosing to marry Jack Martin I was sentencing him to death, I would have made a very different choice...

  Standing on the edge of a hill that sloped down to two ponds, my
thoughts were nearly spiraling out of my control. Every thought circled around one question. Was I making a mistake? My heart cried no, but over the past nine years I had learned not to listen to my heart, but to my guilt. My heart would lead me astray, but my guilt kept me on my course. So it was with a mixture of foreboding and relief that I faced the only one of my heart’s desires that I had ever given in to.

  “Marry me, Jack, right here, right now.”

  His wonderful blue eyes widened, but the love in his gaze filled me with assurance. We were doing right. He was right for me. Lifting my hand, Reverend Gideon Reid approached us. Jack turned to his friend and mentor, his look incredulous. Gideon smiled like a fond father, and in many ways he had been like a father to Jack since his own had died three years ago.

  “I did not want to give you false hopes, you understand,” Gideon said as he stood before us.

  Jack had removed his hat when he had arrived so his black hair moved with the breeze blowing over us. When we had first met in Philadelphia I had thought him the most handsome man that I had ever seen, but I knew to look beyond appearances. What I found when I delved into the secrets that made up Jack Martin was a man of honor, determination, and passion. And he loved me.

  Jack took my hands into his and our eyes locked. What we were doing would have repercussions, but together we could face anything. As Gideon opened his book and thumbed through the pages until he found the one he wanted, Jack’s gaze went a little wide, as if only just realizing what we were doing. I pressed his hands, assuring him with my touch that all would be well. If only.

  “One moment, if you please,” said a voice that caused fear to slam into my chest, freezing my blood into shards of ice.

  Terror seized me in its grip and I felt myself shrinking in, my body trying to escape from the vicinity of that speaker. How he had found me, I did not know, but after nine years of running, my past had caught up to me in the very worst way. My eyes remained on Jack as my body began to shake. Jack’s black brows slanted before he shoved me behind him, facing the man who I loathed almost more than anyone else. Lucas Marx.

  Jack had to have met the man, for he had paid court to Jack’s sister Bess, until Sam Mason had won her affection. Men ran around the plantation house and flanked Lucas. Fifteen royal guards all wearing the serpent ring on their right hand. Loyalists to the man that I loathed more than Lucas.

  “You thought you could escape me,” Lucas said to me.

  My body shrank a little more. If he was here then it was only a matter of time before the man that he served arrived and forced me into a fate worse than death.

  Gideon stepped around us, and I stiffened.

  “Sir, I do not know what you are about, but I will have you know that this is a private affair.”

  “You are the priest, yes?” Lucas asked and Gideon gave a short nod. Lucas turned to the men surrounding him and said, “Gem den præst.” Save the priest. Thanks were in my mind, until Lucas looked at Jack and said, “Skyde den anden.”

  “No!” I screamed as I stepped around Jack. He reached out for me, but I kept away from his hand. Shielding Jack with my body, I tried to bargain with Lucas. “Jeg vil gå med dig, men du skal skåne hans liv.” I meant every word. I would go with him if he would spare Jack.

  Lucas sneered at me for a moment, the same loathing I felt for him was reflecting in his eyes. “Love? How...” he paused as he stroked his square chin, “disappointing.”

  Lucas snapped his fingers and six guards moved toward me, but I had come prepared. I pulled my dagger from beneath my cloak and swung at the first man who reached me. Red appeared on his arm where my blade slashed him, and the second guard received a graze across the back of his hand. A gun fired from behind me, but the sound did not halt me. Two guards charged me together. My blade cut through the coat of one, but the other got a hand on my arm. Throwing my hand toward him, he caught my wrist an inch away from his eye and forced my hand and the dagger down. Another got behind me, but I kicked the one holding me, then threw my elbow into the stomach of the second guard. Jack was throwing punches against the face of the man he was fighting, and Gideon was aiming two pistols. The first shot he fired at a man who was running toward me and the second toward Lucas, but one of his guards jumped before him, taking the shot meant for Lucas. A man raised a gun, pointing it at Gideon and I started toward him, my thoughts screaming at him to stop, but it was Lucas who shouted.

  “No! To kill a priest is to burn in hell’s fires.” He took the gun into his own hand as five men circled me.

  They knew better than to take me on one by one so they inched their way toward me together. Hitting one in the groin while stabbing the man beside him in the shoulder was as far as I got before the others captured my arms and wrenched the dagger from my grip. They threw it away from me, but I kept fighting, throwing my head against one of theirs, kicking out, and jerking my arms around until more guards helped restrain me. They fell against me, and my heart ached, for I knew I was caught. When my gaze fell upon Jack, terror took hold, for he, too, was being held, as was Gideon. Jack’s focus was on Lucas, as Lucas took two steps toward Jack. He was still ten feet away, never one to engage in a fight, but he knew that he had won the battle.

  That set me to thrashing against my guards. I could not allow Lucas to win.

  “Enough!” Lucas shouted, and my thrashing halted as Lucas was pointing a pistol at Jack.

  Jack’s gaze shifted to me and held. I bit my lip as tears began to fall from my eyes. Jack and I both knew what was about to happen, and I was helpless to stop it. His gaze was full of sorrow and love.

  “Farewell, John Martin,” Lucas said, and the gun exploded.

  Jack’s chest jerked forward and then back, crimson spread across his chest with alarming rapidity. The pain that took hold of my body was the same, yet worse than when my parents were murdered before my eyes. My mouth started screaming, but my ears were ringing too loud to hear what I was saying. The guards holding Jack released him and he fell forward, his head striking then bouncing off the hard ground. The seven guards surrounding me lifted me, but I fought against them, screaming and throwing myself around. Tears were clouding my vision, but I blinked them away fighting for a view of Jack. The guards were carrying me toward the house and then around, but I saw him. He was on the ground, his eyes open, but not blinking, not rising. All senses revolted. Growling and then screaming, I pulled against my captors and got one hand free. I did not waste my moment of freedom, but broke the nose of one of my captors, pulled a handful of hair from another, and hit two others against the jaw. My fighting only ceased when Lucas appeared before me, placing the barrel of a gun against my forehead. We were at the front of the house where two carriages were waiting.

  “I will destroy you!” I promised. “You killed him...you killed him, and I swear on all that is good that I will kill you!”

  Lucas smiled, causing me to jerk toward him, not caring about the pistol in his hand. A hand on my hair jerked me back.

  “That is only the beginning of things to come,” Lucas said. “You murdered my brother, and now I will take from you every person that you love. First him, and next...your sister.”

  No! Kicking my foot forward, it connected with Lucas. He howled, but the sound was brief, for I was knocked unconsciousness.

  Waking to darkness did not alarm me, but the ache in my head did. Someone had hit me and by the pain on my temple, the blow was dealt there. My hands were bound behind my back, but there was nothing covering my head. The darkness came from the room in which I was being held. Pushing my back against the wall, I rose. With my arm pressed against the wall, my feet shuffled forward until another wall was reached. Four walls and a door were all that met my touch, but by the distance between walls it had to be a closet of some sort.

  Lowering myself back to the cold floor, thoughts immediately flooded my mind and made me want to scream.

  They killed Jack. Feeling my lip quiver, I tried to think of something else, bu
t could not. The sobs that took hold would not be abated.

  His death was my fault, and the guilt would remain with me forever, just as the guilt of all the deaths by my contriving never left me. I was only ten when I first killed a man, but he was only the beginning. Ten people had died by my hand, and another ten were dead by my contrivances. I was not worthy of Jack’s love while he lived, but if it took the rest of my life, I would avenge his death.

  Scraping sounds came from the other side of the door, and my body tensed, preparing for a fight against Lucas, but when the door opened and I blinked several times against the bright light, it was not Lucas who stood there.

  “Forever I find you in a scrape, Ma belle,” came a voice thick with French accent.

  “Do not call me that, Pierre, I am unworthy of the name,” I replied, feeling too tired to do more than stare at him.

  “You are only unworthy if you do nothing.”

  That riled me. “When have I ever done nothing?” I retorted.

  Pierre smiled and came forward to help me stand. He cut my bonds and as I rubbed my wrists he gently but firmly guided me toward the door.

  “Have you come alone?” I asked, accepting the pistol that he held out to me.

  “When have I ever come alone?” Pierre mocked me, but it sent relief into me. He led the way down a bright hallway, passing open doors with elegant bedchambers. When we reached the end of the hall and came upon a wide foyer a slightly hysterical laugh came from my mouth. Three men stood before me, but it was the youngest that I smiled at.

  “Silence,” I murmured, to which he bowed his head, his shoulder length hair slipping forward to shield his face. He shoved the strands behind his ears as he looked me over. Jack’s sister Bess had dubbed him Silence because he refused to speak to her while he guarded her for the Holy Order.

  “Milady, you find me grateful that you are unharmed.”