Phantoms In Philadelphia (Phantom Knights Book 1)

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Phantoms In Philadelphia (Phantom Knights Book 1) Page 55

by Amalie Vantana

How many days had gone by? I knew not, locked in a windowless dungeon. Every part of me ached, but it was nothing to what Levi was enduring. They had started the first night, with a brand. It was a pyramid with the lightning bolt––the same that was on all of the bodies we had found when first we were searching for Levitas.

  They wanted names, to know how deep our organization ran, who first created it. They had sat Levi across from me, and we exchanged a look, his eyes hard and firm demanding that I give nothing away for his sake. My jaw was still swollen, and I may have had a broken rib from where Levi and I took pleasure in taunting them, and one of my captors did not like being made a laughingstock. They had grabbed Levi then and had branded him before my eyes.

  Swallowing back the lump that continued to rise to my throat, I closed my one good eye. The other I had been unable to open fully, so bruised and painful was it.

  They granted us a reprieve but chained us across the room from one another instead of side by side. Then, hours later, they had come for him again, this time pulling him from our little dungeon and leaving me alone.

  When the door opened, Dimitri came toward me, and I tried to back into the wall, truly afraid of what he meant to do to me. He removed my shackles, grabbed my arms and lifted me off the ground. My legs dangled in the air until Dimitri dropped me down onto a chair. I cried out against the pain in my side as I landed on the wood.

  Dimitri bound my tingling hands and feet to the chair, then opened the door so Richard could enter. It was the second time Richard had come to visit. He was a fool if he thought that a few days in his dungeon would break me.

  Richard sat in a chair that Dimitri placed across from me, leisurely crossing one leg over the other. He folded his hands in his lap and smiled. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more in life than to get my hands free, just one, and I could permanently remove that smile.

  “Your game as Raven has been impressive, I must admit. It is a pity that your talents are wasted with the group that you work for. Now, I have you, and I have the great Loutaire, but I want the names of the rest of your little team.”

  Yawning, I moved my head to look around the room, anywhere but at Richard. I knew how to get under my opponent’s skin, and Richard hated to be ignored.

  Richard uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his brown eyes narrowing. “I would hate, absolutely hate, for your mother to take the punishment for your actions, but if you refuse to cooperate, what other course is open to me?” He stood.

  “Stop! My mother knows nothing about my actions,” I said in a pained voice and cast my eyes down. “Come closer, and I will tell you what you want to know.”

  “Now we get somewhere.” Richard moved the chair closer and sat, our legs nearly touching. “Who are the others in your organization?”

  I leaned my head forward, trying to look distraught. Richard also leaned forward, to listen to my secret. I hacked up spittle in my throat and sent it flying onto Richard’s face. Richard growled as he jumped to his feet, knocking the chair to the ground. I exploded with laughter at the sight of Richard wiping his face with his lavender scented handkerchief.

  “Shut your mouth!” he shouted, before striking my cheek with the back of his hand.

  My head snapped back and heat shot through my cheek, but I choked down my pain as I forced a smile to my lips and laughed again.

  “The whip! Bring me the whip,” Richard shouted as he glared at me.

  Dimitri moved to the table of horrors, and I knew that I pushed too far. What do I do? My gaze ran around the room, searching for some means of escape. My salvation came with the opening of the door.

  Guinevere walked in, took one look at me, and winced. My laughter died, but I quickly recovered, smiling at her. There was grief in her bluish purple eyes as she pulled Richard aside, speaking in low tones.

  Dimitri stood near the table, running the whip between his large fingers. What would make someone that sinister? I silently prayed that Richard would be the one to use that weapon and not Dimitri, as I looked away from the giant.

  Seeing the guardian and his ward together only hardened my resolve to make them each pay, slowly, painfully, for what they had done to Levi, to George, to Jack.

  Richard’s eyes moved back to me as he listened to her, pure hatred written in those brown orbs. Richard nodded at whatever Guinevere was saying and motioned to Dimitri. Dimitri set the whip on the table and moved to open the door for Richard.

  “Very well, we shall allow the court to issue the final judgment against her sins. Dimitri, come, there is work to do.”

  “Farewell, Richard,” I said sweetly, then erupted into mocking laughter. Dimitri left with Richard.

  Guinevere picked up the chair from the floor, set it in front of me and laid a scented handkerchief over the seat before sitting down. She wore her white dress and cloak, but the hood was not covering her hair, and her hair was auburn again.

  “I was hoping you would come to see me,” I said, even though it was a lie. I had not expected to see her at all.

  When I had first heard that she was the white phantom, I had hoped, like Jack, that she was being forced to work for Richard because he was her guardian. Then, she led us to George, and all my hope dissipated. Hearing that she had given Levi to Richard ignited a whole new grievance against her. And, she used Jack, for what reason I knew not, neither did I care. All that mattered was making sure she knew she would never have the chance to do so again.

  “Indeed, and why is that?”

  I watched her every move, which were not many. The Guinevere seated before me was unlike the one that I had met in society. This side of Guinevere was cold and formal, and knew how to keep her emotions from showing.

  “You never meant to kill James Monroe. That is why you used a sleeping draught instead of poison,” Guinevere sighed and removed her white lace mask, “but I do not understand why,” I said, hoping for some emotion.

  “You see; Richard instructed me to kill him, but I try always not to do whatever it is Richard wants. It is a game I play.” Guinevere suddenly laughed. “The iron in the bouquet was a stroke of genius, but, did you honestly think that I would believe you to be Loutaire?” When I did not speak, she went on. “I know every contour of your brother’s face.”

  Biting my cheek, I stared at her, keeping my expression as blank as her own.

  “How did you discover that I was the, what do you call me, white phantom?”

  I started to wonder what Guinevere did not know. “It was not I who discovered you.”

  Guinevere’s smile faded, and she looked down to where her fingers were playing with the lace on her mask. “What gave me away?”

  “You were seen murdering three ruffians in an alley.”

  She nodded, understanding exactly to when I referred. “What a coincidence.” Her eyes met mine. Her voice went cold, “Jack unmasked me, and I unmasked him.”

  Before me sat our greatest threat. Guinevere was not some pawn. Richard was the pawn, being moved here and there at the whim of this skillful player. “Why did you mimic Hannah’s voice?”

  Guinevere’s grin was genuine. “I detested her from the moment I met her, but when I required an alias, she came to mind.”

  I nearly smiled, but I would not give her the satisfaction. “Did you––” my voice faltered, and I cleared it, “did you shoot James?”

  “Of that I am guilty, but I am not a murderer, and I am not an assassin,” she told me, and I saw the honesty in her eyes. “I kill only when there is no other way.”

  Anger, fear, and dread crept into my veins. “Where do I play into your game?”

  Guinevere scowled. “You were never part of my plan. I took pains to protect you. I led you to George with the hope that you would then remove yourself from this mission. I even turned all blame on Levi, who had been watching my house.”

  Incredulity was mine. How could she do something so cruel? Levi was fifteen! She may have thought she was sparing me, but it was not so. By harming Levi, she har
med me. We were Phantoms, and Phantoms protect our own.

  “Why would you do that?” God, let her have an acceptable answer.

  Sadness covered Guinevere’s face and eyes. “Jack loves you, and I love Jack. I did what I had to do, but it was not enough. You gave yourself away. First, by screeching in the woods when you were being chased by the guards, then the carriage meant for Monroe, and finally the glass that you gave to Levi. Richard sent some men to bring you in, but Andrew Madison foiled that.”

  I stared at Guinevere with a mixture of chagrin and appreciation. Everything I suspected was true. “Why are you not the leader of Levitas? You are devious enough to be.”

  “I have no desire to rule a group of yokels who believe they are making a difference in the world, when all they are achieving is making themselves ridiculous.”

  “Then why be a part at all?”

  “I am not a part of Levitas. I am here to destroy them, and when that is accomplished, I will leave. It would have been done if your Phantoms had not gotten involved.”

  “The Holy Order,” I murmured, and Guinevere winced.

  She leaned forward again, her eyes holding a warning, but also a fleck of fear. “You would be wise to forget that name. Only death will come if you seek out what you can never understand.”

  Digesting that piece of information took a moment. Guinevere worked for the Holy Order. That explained some, but not much of what she was doing in society and why she became betrothed to Jack.

  “I do not care about what or why, you are a traitor to your country and will be punished as such.” Guinevere’s face took on a rush of color. “I must know, why Jack? What was it about him that drew you to him?”

  A look of intense longing had flashed in Guinevere’s eyes before it was replaced with cold determination. “I did not intend to love your brother, but Jack gave me something that I had thought lost forever.”

  “What is that?” I demanded.

  “Hope.” Guinevere stood, picking up her handkerchief. She placed her hands on the back of the chair, and her eyes hardened for a moment, then she blinked them blank. “You are about to be tried before the Levitas court, and you will be found guilty. Have you anything to say in your defense?”

  Guinevere did not wish harm upon me, and she was truly trying to protect Jack. I found myself thankful to Guinevere for that, but then the cold truth of what was before me smacked me in the face. I was about to be tried before a group who had no compunction in killing a delegate for president.

  “No, but I do have two questions.” Guinevere stared at me, and I took it for assent. “Do the men who wear the snake rings work for Levitas?”

  Guinevere flinched as if I had slapped her. Her jaw was clenched tight for a moment before she forced her face impassive. “No.” She smiled. “What is your next question?”

  Relief had filled me for a moment knowing that she did not work with the people who had murdered Ben. I asked the question that had been burning in my mind since the first Levitas meeting I had witnessed. “Where is Pierre? Is he alive?”

  Guinevere’s head tilted to the side as she stared at me as if I had two heads or something. “Even facing great pain, you still think only of others. A trait of the Phantoms or your own?”

  “What happens to me is of no consequence when my friends are hurting,” I answered honestly.

  “He is alive,” Guinevere said before turning and walking toward the door.

  “What do you intend to do about my brother?”

  Guinevere leaned her back against the door. “Nothing. Jack and I lead very different lives, and there is no hope for us.” Guinevere sighed. “Whatever pain that is inflicted upon you, you have no one to blame, but those you hold dear.”

  She looked over her shoulder, her hand on the doorknob. “For what it is worth, all those people Richard captured have been returned to their homes.” She smirked. “I saw to that.”

  The door closed behind her, and I pulled at the ropes binding my hands, but they would not budge, and all it produced was pain in my wrists. Trepidation was trying to set in. My legs were bound to the legs of the chair, but the toes of my boots were touching the floor, so I scooted my chair back and paused, waiting to see if anyone came into the room. The door did not open, so I scooted again.

  The door slammed against the wall. I looked up. Dimitri stood there, smiling at me. “The time has come.”

  He unbound my legs first. I could have kicked him, but with my hands still bound, it would have only ended in me getting more bruises, so I refrained. Dimitri unbound my hands, and I rubbed my wrists where the ropes had been digging into them. Dimitri allowed me to stand before binding my hands behind my back. He pushed me out of the room and up the stairs.

  At the top of the stairs, I was directed toward the throne room. At the door Dimitri, halted me, and then tapped two times. Someone knocked on the other side of the door five times. Dimitri knocked two times, paused, then tapped two more times. I tried to keep my laughter inside, for I was feeling seconds from losing control. The doors opened from the inside, and I was pushed into the throne room.

  Richard and his associate Alexander Robb were seated upon the thrones on the platform, but Nicholas’s chair was empty. All the other chairs, except Guinevere’s and Mrs. Lewis’s, were filled.

  My eyes met those of Charles Knowlton, and his mouth dropped open. He squirmed in his seat like he wanted to speak up, but could not do it. I turned away from him, disgust rising within me for his cowardice. When I reached the center of the floor, I was shoved down to my knees.

  “Brothers,” Richard said, walking to the edge of the platform, “I give you Raven, one of the Phantoms, who has plagued us for so long.”

  Looking to my right, all the men were staring at me in disgust, like I was some kind of rodent they wanted to squash with their polished boots.

  Richard announced a list of my ‘sins against the order of Levitas.’ Murder, though I had murdered none of them, yet. Spying, true, stealing the sacred artifacts, that was mostly Jack. Trickery, are we not all guilty of that? The list went on and on. Finally, the critical point came. Richard asked the members of Levitas what their verdict was.

  “Guilty!” The word was shouted from all corners. Sickness rose in my stomach.

  “It is by the judgment and will of this court that you, Elizabeth Martin, also known as Raven, spy and murderer, be branded as a traitor. You chose to be a shadow, now you may live your life in the shadows, shamed by the scars you bear. Forsaken and forgotten.” Richard clapped twice. The doors behind me opened. A new guard entered; his pock marked face sneering and his watery mouth hanging open, but it was what he carried that caused bile to rise in my throat. Held out before him was a long, brown branding iron that’s end was the Levitas crest of the pyramid and lightning bolt.

  Fear was not a strong enough word for the emotions surging through me. I stood and tried to run for the door to the right of the platform, but as Richard shouted Dimitri grabbed me. I shouted at the members to stop this, I called upon their humanity, their honor as I thrashed against Dimitri. He picked me up, careless of how I threw my body around. When my screamed plea aimed directly at Mr. Knowlton, he looked away.

  Dimitri dropped me on the floor and held me there with his huge hand against my head. From that angle, I could see the walkway above where Guinevere stood.

  “Are you pleased with yourself?” I screamed at her, but inside I was begging her to rescue me. As she turned away and left the throne room, my eyes slid shut in utter defeat. My shirt was pulled up, and that brought on a fresh hysteria.

  There were shouts from the men around the room, but not to spare me. They did not want to witness what was about to happen. Richard thundered for them to be still, before he sneered down at me. I fought against Dimitri’s hand and got free, but he struck my head, and I fell flat on my stomach. Both of Dimitri’s hands came down on my shoulders, and my shirt was tossed up again.

  With my cheek flat against the stone
floor, hot tears fell from my eyes, making a small puddle beneath my head. I inhaled a deep breath then felt the hot iron against my lower back.

  The pain was intense, though bearable, for a full second. It burst into excruciating agony. I writhed. My back arched. My screams filled the room. Each breath I took only increased the pain, until it felt like my whole back was on fire. Searing pain increased with each passing second. I could smell my burning flesh, and my stomach roiled and lost the meager fare that I had been fed. The brand was removed and my will to fight went with it.

  Chapter 33

 

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