The Charleston Chase (Phantom Knights Book 2) (21 page)

“I am not asking for your help,” I said.

Rose reached down against the door until she found
the doorknob. She held my gaze firmly. “I hope you succeed.” She
slipped out of the room.

She could rest assured that I would succeed even if
it was the last task that I ever accomplished.

Jack

A
pproaching the church with its tall steeple, I was a bit
uneasy. Guinevere wanted to meet in a church. If anyone else had
requested to meet in a church, I would have thought nothing about
it, but she was Guinevere, the white phantom. It felt out of
character and highly suspicious.

Looking around, no one was in sight, so I slipped
through a side door. Entering the long sanctuary, my eyes took a
moment to grow accustomed to the darker room.

The sanctuary was a large, open room with tall,
white columns, a vaulted ceiling and rows and rows of white pews.
There were a few candles lit at the front of the room, and the
morning light streamed in through the windows. There was only one
person in the sanctuary, and she was seated in the second pew. I
walked forward until I reached the pew and slid in next to her. Her
head was bowed, and confusion covered me. Guinevere was praying.
She raised her head but did not look at me.

“If we are going to be together, there are some
things you need to know.”

She inhaled sharply, and I knew that there was a war
raging inside her. Whatever she was about to confide to me was not
light.

“You are wrong about everything you think you know
about the Holy Order.”

“I do not see how—”

She turned her body to face me. “You are wrong.”

“Tell me everything, beginning with who the leader
is.”

She was shaking her head before I
was through speaking. “It is not as simple as that. I can only tell
you information that pertains to me, and you cannot ask me
more.”

“Then, I will not.”

She turned again, facing the front, taking a few
minutes to breathe deeply. I waited, though not well. A part of me
wanted to know everything that instant. I wanted action. I wanted
to move against the Holy Order immediately. But a larger part
wanted to be there for Guinevere, and if that meant being silent
and allowing her time to collect the courage to admit her part in
the Holy Order, then that is what I would do.

“Everything I told you in Philadelphia was the
truth. My parents did die, and I was left in the care of a
protector. I did not know at the time, but my protector had been a
member of the Holy Order. It was not until he died, and his will
left me in the care of the Holy Order that I learned the
truth.”

She inhaled in a shaky breath, and I wanted to
resurrect her guardian so I could beat him soundly. Slowly, I
reached over and laid my hand over hers on the edge of the bench.
She stared down at our hands for a few moments before
continuing.

“When the Holy Order came for me, I was fourteen.
For four years, I have been a servant of the twelve.”

She has been a slave? A fire blazed within me, but I
held it back. “Twelve?”

“The Holy Order of Levitas has twelve lords, one
supreme ruler, and there were four branches, known only as Levitas.
Richard’s group, as you know, is no longer active.”

That was dashed unfortunate. “What kind of missions
do they make you do?” I forced the words past the lump in my throat
and my tongue that felt heavy.

When she glanced over at me, her wonderful,
beautiful eyes assured me I did not truly want to know. My left
hand balled into a fist, and my tight glove was stretching across
my knuckles more than it was made to do.

“Where did Richard come in?”

She turned her palm up and laced her fingers with my
own. “General Lewis was one of the twelve, but when he died,
Richard hoped to take his place. Though Richard was named the
leader, the lords knew he presented a great threat to the
order.

“The attempts against President Monroe were entirely
Richard’s doing. The Holy Order discovered it and sent me to stop
him. He thought I was sent there to help him.

“Richard was betrothed to your mother, so he set me
up as his ward.” She smiled and looked over at me. “Separate houses
were my requirement. The house I stayed in belonged to the widow of
one of Richard’s former servants.”

That explained much, but what was the Holy Order and
what kind of threat did they pose? If there were three branches
left, it was more involved than we realized. But, if you removed
the head, the body could not function. Going after the Holy Order
was still a necessity.

“I want you out of their hands, but to do that I
need you to tell me with what I am dealing.”

“I cannot tell you.”

I wanted to shake her, then kiss her, then shake her
again.

“I can only show you,” she said.

My eyes rose to hers, and she was
smiling though in an alarming way. Her eyes were narrowed, her
smile harsh.

“By all means, show me.”

She rose, and I followed. We left
the church, walking toward Meeting Street. She was walking like a
determined woman with conquering on her mind. She could have led a
cavalry charge.

We stopped where Market and Church Street connected,
and Guinevere turned to me.

“The sight you are about to see will not be
pleasant.”

My eyes started searching the streets for what she
meant. If I knew what I was up against I could prepare, but
Guinevere was not one to reveal her hand too soon, even to me.

“I need your promise that when I say we should part
ways, do it, without questions or hesitation. If you cannot agree,
we go no further.”

That did not bode well with me. I did not want her
out of my sight. How could I protect her if she was not with me? It
struck me rather forcefully as I stared at her determined face, she
did not need me to protect her. It stung, but she had done a rather
good job of protecting herself over the last four years that she
had been a slave of the Holy Order. When I reluctantly agreed she
turned, and we began walking again, turning down Market Street and
walking toward the buildings that made up the marketplace.

We went into one of the buildings, and I followed
Guinevere past butchers and men selling fish. There were slaves all
over the market, trying to sell their owner’s products; some were
small children. We stopped beside a butcher stand and Guinevere
greeted the large man by name. He eyed me intently with his sharp
cleaver raised over a slab of meat. Guinevere assured him that I
was a friend. He nodded as he went back to chopping up the
meat.

“What are we doing here?”

“Waiting, for we have a common enemy,” she said as
her eyes remained fixed down the center aisle toward the door.

Her hand grabbed my arm, jerking me down behind a
long counter made of marble. Our bodies were facing each other as
we knelt. Her eyes were closed, and she was quietly counting. When
her eyes opened, she slowly lifted her head to look over the
counter. I did the same.

Down the aisle, standing inside
the door, were three men dressed in plain brown clothing. There was
nothing suspicious about them, until one of them spoke in Danish.
My heart started slamming around in my chest. Those men were the
same ones searching for Ma belle—for Guinevere.

“The Holy Order is an organization of protectors.
They came to this country many years ago, bringing with them three
artifacts.

“The first leader found like minded people and
formed the Holy Order. As the years went by more artifacts were
added until the collection made up the seven artifacts. The Holy
Order split up the artifacts as they knew, one day, their enemy
would come seeking them.

“They lived in constant watch but as the years went
by their enemy did not arrive. They were at peace, until three
years ago when the first ship made port, filled with those whom
they had dreaded.”

Out of the seven artifacts the Phantoms had
collected five. Levi had stolen the chalice, but somewhere there
were two rings.

When I had stolen the artifacts from Guinevere she
was trying to get them back from the people who had been guarding
them, but why?

“What about Dimitri and the black box?”

Guinevere frowned though her eyes were on the men
who had parted ways to walk down the aisle. One of them was coming
toward us, so we both ducked down. Guinevere leaned over and
whispered against my ear.

“Richard wanted possession of the artifacts, but I
could not allow that to happen.”

“Because of Ma belle.”

Her eyes were narrowed on me, her mouth a hard
line.

“Frantz, do you see dem?” came a foreign accent from
beyond the counter.

“Nay,” he said, and I inhaled a long breath. “Vait,
vat is dis?”

Guinevere stiffened beside me and started to pull up
her skirt. I averted my eyes, but could not keep from glancing back
at her petticoat clad leg. She had a long dagger tucked into a
garter around her leg. She pulled it away from her leg, and I
immediately recognized it. It was the same weapon at both the
warehouse and the night I discovered that she was the white
phantom. There was a small gold pistol mounted to the side.

The large butcher moved to the counter, his large
legs next to Guinevere.

“There they are,” a different man shouted.

I was ready to jump up and fight, but Guinevere’s
hand held me in place. Our eyes met, and she shook her head then
faced forward again.

“They be gone,” said the large butcher. “Chasing
that rascal that was with you the other day.”

Guinevere stiffened for a moment then pushed to her
feet and was around the counter before I could stand up. The crowd
was thicker than it had been when we entered the market. When I
made my way through I saw why. Two of the royal guards were on the
ground, dead if the red staining their coats was any indication.
The third guard was fighting a man about my height, wearing dirty
clothes and a hat firmly planted on his head. Their backs were to
me as the man in the hat slammed the guard’s head against a wood
table until there was an ominous crack. He dropped the man then
turned toward the crowd, and my breath left me faster than a
galloping horse.

Levi
.

Having not seen him in nearly eight months, his
appearance was surprising. The softness to his face was gone, and
his jaw and chin were no longer rounded but pointed in sharp
angles. He had always been like my little brother, my friend. We
had had a falling out when I left the Phantoms, and he could not
understand why. He had come to Charleston, without permission from
his leader, he stole the chalice, he betrayed not only the
Phantoms, but those who had accepted him and treated him as family
for seven years.

He had not seen me; his eyes were focused on
something to the left of the crowd. Levi knelt, picking up one of
the royal guards’ swords.

“Hades!”

He stiffened then his head came
up, and his eyes searched the crowd until they rested on me. They
widened, and I saw his chest inhale. He was worried; I could see it
in the flicker of his green eyes. He blinked it away then turned,
picking up a melon from a stand. He whipped around and
threw it at me.

Out of instinct I put up my arms to block my face a
moment before the melon hit me. Women screamed; men shouted as
fruit after fruit was thrown into the crowd.

What the devil was he doing? This
was not the place for his funning. I caught a glimpse of his
serious face with a hint of devilry in his green eyes and knew he
was not funning. He was trying to create mayhem.

He threw an apple at my head and
as I ducked low; I felt thoroughly angered. I picked up an apple
and threw it at him. He dodged it, the right side of his lips
curved up. I grabbed two more and threw them at him. Levi used the
sword to slice through the second apple, having dodged the first.
Memories of playing cricket
with Levi,
Jericho, Ben, Henry, Mariah, and Bess when we were supposed to be
training flooded me.

“Is that the best you have, Loutaire,” he called
out, his voice mocking.

If it had not been for all the shouting people, I
would have thought us back in Philadelphia training together for
our work as Phantoms. Though we had never before thrown fruit at
each other.

Picking up two apples, I kept one behind my back as
I rose and threw the other at him. As he swiped at it with the
sword, I threw the other and struck his forehead. He took three
steps back, blinking in a dazed fashion.

So Levi was working with Guinevere now was he? For
that matter, where was Guinevere? I started picking up fruit after
fruit, sending them flying toward Levi, but glancing around the
crowd for Guinevere.

Abe appeared at the end of the market, behind Levi,
and met my eyes. He motioned his arms in a circle, like a hug, his
message clear to me. If I could distract Levi, Abe would restrain
him. I picked up an apple, tossed it lightly in the air, then
caught it.

“What are you doing here, Hades?”

“As if you do not know,” he retorted.

When I only stared at him, he smiled and lowered the
sword. “You do not know.” He laughed. “I have tricked the great
Loutaire. Oh, what a day this is!”

Abe rushed up behind Levi, wrapping his arms around
Levi’s chest, locking his arms at his sides. I rushed forward but
before I could reach them something hard bashed me over the head. I
wobbled for a moment before dropping to my knees. My vision spun. A
thousand tiny pains were shooting through the back of my head as it
struck the hard floor. I blinked twice, seeing a blurry image of
Abe being caught by men in dark blue coats. Military men. The last
thing I saw was Levi getting away, with Guinevere.