Secrets In Savannah (Phantom Knights) (4 page)

“You know who have found me, you
knew when you left me.”

He smiled, and I wanted to slap
it from his bearded face. “I have warned you before, but you never heed my
words. Without my protection, you are helpless, prey to all the beasts that
want to do you harm.”

“We move away from the point, do
not you think?”

His eyes flashed his displeasure
at my not following his tangent. One would think that he would have grown used
to my not following his whims, but still he held out hope that he could bend me
to his will. That would never happen.

“What point is this that you
speak of, Guinevere?”

The back and forth between us was
growing tedious, and my cape was beginning to chafe me. The cape was another
one of Harvey’s rulings, one that I agreed to due to the air of mystery that it
lent me. Now that the Phantoms knew who I was, the mystery was gone. At least
the mystery of the white phantom, and while I played that part well, I was
ready to be myself again.

“What is the next step, General?
Where do we go from here, for you cannot mean to remain so close to
Washington?” General Harvey was now known to the Phantoms just as I was. He was
no longer the mysterious secret leader of the Holy Order of
Levitas
.
He relinquished that right when he had me capture Bess Martin, and he revealed
his identity to her.

There was a deep game afoot, and
it chafed me that the general used me like a puppet on a string, but I needed
him. He offered protection, and I was not naive, I knew that without his
covering I would be dead. My life was full of secrets, secrets from the past
that I tried not to think about, but was daily reminded of. My life was one
large tangled web of lies and deceit.

Jack never could understand why I
kept going back to the general, but Jack could have led a normal life, if my
past faults had not gotten him killed.

Swallowing the lump in my throat
and forcing Jack from my mind, I focused on the enemy before me.

“I am afraid that it is not that
simple. There have been some ... setbacks,” Harvey said.

My heart did a little dance, and
I felt a chill start to creep up my spine and arms. “Setbacks? What
manner
of setbacks?”

Harvey looked away, and I became
aware of who the others in the room were. They pulled off their hoods and four
of the twelve heads of the Holy Order watched me. The twelve were never called
upon unless something terrible had occurred.

“What have you done?” I demanded,
taking a step forward.

Harvey’s eyes snapped back to
mine as his jaw hardened. “You forget yourself.”

“I do not! You forget yourself,
and your role. Where is my sister?” My hands were clenched tight at my sides,
my nails digging into my palms.

It seemed like an eternity as I
waited for Harvey to speak. He took his time, eyeing me dispassionately. He
looked away again, and dread covered my body.

“She was taken while we were in
Charleston.”

There could be only one meaning
behind those words, and I felt the old fear creeping in. Chills covered my arms
that were no longer warm under the cape. My body was shaking with panic.

“Who?” I whispered, needing to
hear him say it. Harvey shook his head, and that small gesture snapped my panic
into wrath. “Liar!”

The other people in the room
either cringed or jumped, and it added a kind of wicked pleasure to my wrath. That
I, a girl of eighteen, could frighten them.

Harvey rose, trying to intimidate
me into submission. He would try to get me to believe that he had nothing to do
with my sister’s capture, but I knew the truth. If my sister was gone then he
was fully to blame.

“You will not speak to me in that
tone, do I make myself understood?” The words were spoken calmly, but it belied
the approaching storm. “Answer me,” he snapped and two of the others jumped in
alarm, but not me, never me.

Squaring my shoulders, I crossed
my arms over my chest and cast him a scathing look. “I will speak to you as you
deserve, and I will ask you again, who has my sister?”

Harvey eyed me for a long moment,
but I would not retreat. I held his gaze without flinching. Too long had I
relied on the protection of others, and it had made me soft. I felt
determination cover me. It was the same determination that made a ten year old
girl, who had watched her father be brutally murdered, survive the fate that
was destined for her.

“I do not know. If I did, do you
not think that I would extend every effort within my power to rescue her?”

He was lying. I could see it, not
in his eyes, not in what he was saying, but what he was not saying. He was
trying to use tactics, first bellowing and then pity, but it would not work,
not this time. He had one task, one simple task, and he could not even do that.
No, General Harvey had outworn his usefulness. It was time that I regained
control of my life, my fate.

“I do not think it, but you now
have the opportunity. Send for the twelve, and together we will rescue her.” My
words shocked those seated around the room. Their eyes turned to me, but it was
not fear that I saw. It was pity.

Harvey was again in control and
shook his head. “I am afraid that is out of the question. Sending for the
twelve, as you know, can only be done in extremities. The message it means is
war.”

“This is war! Those who have
taken my sister know that as much as you. We must pursue them. We must get to
her before they have a chance to turn her over to Luther. For once he has her,
it is only a matter of time before he finds Ma
belle
.”

Harvey sat back on his throne and
with a sinking stomach, I knew that I had lost. He meant to do nothing. “There
is only one who can declare war and until I receive such word my hands are
tied.” He entwined his fingers to make his point.

Fear tried to sneak up on me, but
I squashed it. Fear had held me bound for too long. It was what made me become
the white phantom. It was what made me join Harvey and the Holy Order, and it
was what had led to my sister being captured. Shaking off such thoughts, I took
in my surroundings, searching for the easiest way out.

“Then your services are no longer
required,” I said once I located my path to freedom.

Harvey jumped to his feet, his
face draining of all color, making him look like a ghost of his former self.

“For too long you have tried to
rule, me, my sister, our futures, our fate, but no more,” I said as I took a
step back toward the door.

Harvey took a step back. He had
always been able to threaten me to do his wishes, but the power had just traded
hands, and he knew it. I turned and walked toward the double doors.

“You know that I cannot allow you
to walk out those doors. Not without paying a price,” Harvey said, halting me.
As I turned, he snapped his fingers and his three guards that were in the room
moved to block the door.

There was one way out. I had to
fight.

All of Harvey’s guards were
similar in stature, but their fighting styles were always different. Two of the
guards smiled at me knowing what was expected, but one looked hesitant. There
was my last target.

As Harvey snapped his fingers
again, and the guards stepped forward, my hand was feeling along my belt for my
iron. When the first of the eager guards rushed me, I pulled out my iron and
struck his nose. He stumbled back with groans and curses as the second eager
guard ran at me. Sidestepping and dodging around his punches, I slammed the
iron knob against his wrist. He hunched over, and my hand swung around the back
of his neck. I dug my nails into his skin as my other hand with the iron struck
his back. Releasing him, I dropped down and hit the iron against the back of
his knee. As he fell, I rose and moved around him for the hesitant guard.

His brows rose as I approached as
if he thought I would not strike him because we had once been allies. He did
not know me as well as he thought.

I raised the iron as I neared him
and swung it toward his head. He grabbed my wrist and wrenched the iron from my
hand, but he was not focusing where he should have. As his face centered on me,
his cheek met the sharp end of my dagger.

It had annoyed me for years that
the guards undervalued and underestimated what I was capable of, but this day I
was grateful for their ignorance. I smiled, for I had won, and he knew it. He
could try to attack me, but I would shoot him with the little pistol attached
to my dagger. He dropped my iron, and I raised my brows. He was a fool if he
thought I would fall for that child’s trick. I pushed the tip of the dagger
into his cheek, guiding him away from the door.

The man whose nose I had hit was
coming toward me if the sound of his growls and stomping boots were any
indication. Twisting around the guard before me, I aimed my dagger over his
shoulder and squeezed the small trigger on my pistol that was attached to the
blade. The explosion made the people upon the thrones jump. As the guard
clutched his shoulder, I glanced at Harvey. He was standing with his hands
fisted on his hips and annoyance coating his face. Placing my dagger at the
base of the final guard’s neck, I forced him to his knees. Swiping my iron from
the floor, I moved to the door.

“If you walk out that door, you
forfeit all rights and are henceforth to be considered as a threat. Think
carefully, Guinevere. Is that what you want? To lose my protection?”

He was right of course. I slowly
turned, and he smiled knowingly. His smile said it all; he had me on a string,
and I would dance when he commanded.

As a slow smile built upon my
lips, I cut the string. I lowered my hood and unclasped the white cape from
around my neck. I watched his emotions as he grasped what I was doing. With the
flick of my wrist, I sent the white cape fluttering to the floor.

“White was never my color anyway,”
and with that I turned and walked out the door. The click of my heels against
the stone steps encouraged me on, step by step, into the unknown, but a path
that I choose, no longer chosen for me.

òòò

When I reached the house that
Pierre was occupying in Washington, I ran inside, shouting. “Pierre, we must
make haste away from the city. Harvey’s guards will be but minutes behind me.”
There was no doubt in my mind that Harvey would send men after me. I knew too
much.

Entering the front parlor, Pierre
was not alone. My body froze, my gaze focusing on the woman whose voice I had
imitated for months.

Hannah Lamont.

“Guinevere!” Hannah ran toward
me, and I was too stunned to react. She threw her arms around me, squeezing me against
her, then she gave me an air kiss on each side of my cheeks. With her hands on
my shoulders she held me back. “My dear, you looked two shades from ill. Have
you missed me that much?” She laughed as she released me but pointed a finger
at me. “Do not answer that.”

Hannah Lamont had been my one
nemesis in Philadelphia society while I had been pretending to be Richard’s
ward. I genuinely did not like her.

“What is she doing here, Pierre?”
I demanded at once, ignoring Hannah completely.

“Imagine my surprise when I
learned that Pierre was not killed as I had been told, but resurrected by you.
You must be a powerful sorceress to accomplish such a feat. Bringing the dead
to life,” Hannah said, one thin brow angled up.

“
Pish
!
You mortals will believe anything,” I exclaimed, and Pierre coughed pointedly.
Sighing, I relented. “Richard wanted the
Levitas
members to think him all powerful, so he staged Pierre’s death. As Pierre was
working for me, he went along with it.”

“What about you resurrecting
him?” Hannah asked, still with that mobile brow arched.

“Wherever do you get your
information,” I scoffed. “Pierre and I staged that little scene for the
Phantoms who were watching.”

“She brings news,” Pierre
interrupted as he stood facing me. Pierre knew me better than most. He could
always tell when I was one moment away from hostility.

Hannah waved an airy hand in my
face. “Oh, just that George Crawford is the man who has taken your sister, and
it is to Charleston that he has gone.”

“How do you know this?” I had
never trusted the woman, and I was not willing to begin.

Her smile was arrogant and full
of mystery. “That, my dear, you shall learn in time, but for now, you may wish
to gather your things. Our carriage departs in an hour.” She walked out of the
room.

“She is not to be trusted,
Pierre!” I began, furious over his lack of perception. Hannah Lamont was one of
the last people that we could trust. Her appearance was the highest order of
suspicious. Only one person could have sent her, to misdirect us from his trail.

Hannah’s head suddenly popped
back into the room around the wall, and I jerked into Pierre.

“By the by,” Hannah said,
smiling, “your Jack Martin survived.”