The Charleston Chase (Phantom Knights Book 2) (26 page)

“The artifacts,” she said.

Stiffening, I pushed off of the crates and turned
away from her, my teeth grinding hard. The full significance of the
artifacts to the Holy Order was unknown to me, but I knew that in
the hands of Ma belle they would wield an unfathomable power. It
was for that reason they had been kept in separate locations until
I secured most of them.

“No,” I replied as I heard her following me to the
center of the crate maze.

“You know that I have the chalice.”

“Yes, and I also know how you came by that.” Turning
to look at her, my words were filled with bitterness, “How is
Levi?”

“Determined,” was all she said.

“I know all about Levi’s
determination. He is wild, impulsive, headstrong, and longs to make
a name for himself. Rather like you, is he not?” My anger was
slipping through my hold, rearing itself, and I had little desire
to hold it inside. “How long has Levi worked for you,
Guinevere?”

“Since I caught him following me in Philadelphia. I
made him a bargain he could not refuse,” she snapped, her chin
raising. We were on the brink of battle and we both knew it.

“How is being tortured a fair bargain?”

Her eyes narrowed; her cheeks scorched red. “That
was an unfortunate occurrence. Levi does not blame me.”

“So, now that you have him, you
are finished with me? Levi and I do look similar. You were unhappy
that you could not bend me to your will, so you have substituted me
for a little lap dog that will come at the snap of your fingers.
What else do Levi and I now have in common? Your
favors?”

Her face contorted in hurt and then fury. Her hand
flew up toward my face, but I grabbed her wrist, holding it between
us. “Hitting is unbecoming.”

“So are you,” Guinevere hissed. She wrenched her arm
away and stomped away through the maze of crates.

I felt like a complete fool, allowing my anger to
overcome my common sense, but I did not follow her. I would not
grovel at her feet for forgiveness, becoming the thing I had
accused Levi of.

It proved unnecessary to follow her, for it took
only a few minutes before she returned to me with her cheeks fiery
red.

“You!” she growled at me.

“Me?” I asked as innocently as I could manage.

“You had those doors locked. I do not know how but
you did.”

“Of course I did.”

She stepped toward me, looking like a fierce kitten.
“Open those doors.”

“I do regret that I cannot leap to your bidding, but
those doors will remain locked,” I flipped out my timepiece and
looked at it, “for the next nine hours.” I replaced my timepiece
and leaned closer to her face. She did not shy away. “You and I, my
love, will be spending the night together.”

Her face paled, and I fought the urge to grin
triumphantly.

“You tricked me finely, Jack,” she said with a
calculating smile.

“Not so comfortable when you are on the receiving
end, is it, Guinevere?”

She did not reply but flounced away with the sway of
her blue skirt. When she was out of sight, I leaned against a
crate, drawing in long breaths. My confidence was not as high as I
led her to believe, and now that my anger was cooling I was not
sure this was the best idea. More time was needed with her to
persuade her to tell me about the Holy Order, but I had foolishly
believed that my resolve was enough to sustain my being locked up
with her for an entire night.

Every time we had been alone together in the past,
we always ended in kissing each other nearly senseless. Even when I
did not know she was the white phantom, we still ended in a heated
embrace that took me hours to cool from.

After taking a deep breath, I walked through the
crate maze to find her. She was near the door looking for
something. Seeing her bent down to search some shelves brought a
smile to my lips.

“It is no use searching, Guinevere, I had every tool
removed. There is no way out until the laborers arrive in the
morning.”

She straightened, sending me a
menacing glare. “You have thought of everything. Tell me, did you
also plan a meal, or do you expect us to fast for nine
hours?”

My grin was wide. “Come with me.”

She was a curious woman, though she tried to hide
it, so I knew she was following me as I led the way toward the far
wall of the warehouse. When I turned the last corner, I stopped,
and Guinevere bumped into my back. She stepped around me, touching
her nose and shooting me another angry look, which faded when she
saw what was before us.

It had cost me quite a sum, but the night guards
allowed me to come in and set my things how I liked. It was they
who locked us in after I arrived. I had trusted Guinevere not to be
pulling me into a trap, but if there had been, one the guards was
outside and would open the doors at any sound of trouble.

There was a pile of blankets and pillows to make the
hard floor comfortable, four lanterns to light the area, and a
basket full of food made for me by Sam’s cook.

Guinevere sat on the blankets with her feet tucked
under her and her skirt spread around her like a fan. Her eyebrows
rose when I only stared at her. “If you are going to trap me here,
the least you can do is serve me.”

I laughed as I moved to the basket and removed the
cloth covering the food. “Be thankful that I love you as much as I
do, Guinevere Clark, or you would be eating stale bread.”

She did not reply as I laid dishes on the blanket
before us. When I laid a flask beside the dishes, she looked at me
with her dainty eyebrows raised.

“It is only lemonade.”

I removed a second flask from my pocket and opened
it to take a swig.

“Do not tell me that you are drinking lemonade, for
I shall not believe you.” She took my flask from me and raised it
to her lips. To my surprise, she did not cough at the strong taste.
“I suppose you have been trained how to handle your liquor,”
Guinevere said to me. “So too have I.”

That should not have surprised me, but it did.
Guinevere, I was still learning, was full of more secrets than
known truths.

“Tell me what you have been doing over the past
seven months, Jack,” she said conversationally before she bit into
an apple.

“Searching for you.”

She paused with her mouth hovering over her apple as
she slowly looked at me.

“I began with Baltimore, but you know what I found
there. From there I traveled to New York, Washington, and finally
back to Baltimore, where I learned that the Holy Order was in
Charleston.”

She put down her apple and twisted until she was
seated facing me. “You should not have searched for me, Jack.”

“I promised you I would.”

She looked down at her clasped hands. “And I
promised you a glorious chase.”

Reaching out, I grasped her wrist. She looked at me
sharply, but did not try to pull away. Shoving up the fabric of her
sleeve, there, as I had hoped, was the bracelet I had made her when
I proposed. She was watching me intently, waiting for my reaction.
She loved me; it was as clear in her eyes as it was displayed on
her wrist and on the necklace she wore.

“I will go...” I said softly, and her eyes
widened.

For that moment, there was hurt and panic visible in
her eyes before she dropped her gaze.

“If you accompany me.”

Her came snapped up, and her eyes narrowed in on
mine. I knew she was searching my eyes for the honesty behind my
words. Honesty was all she would receive from me this day. I would
leave Charleston behind if she would go with me.

“That is not possible,” she replied fiercely.

“Why?” I asked calmly. That defined us. Calm when
the other was fierce.

Her eyes were filled with so much emotion that she
looked as if she would break if I said the wrong words. I tugged
her toward me as I leaned back to rest my head against one of the
pillows. She stared down at me with wide, wary eyes.

“I have no designs against your virtue this night,
my love. You can trust me.”

“It is not your designs that trouble me, Jack,” she
said, but lay beside me, her head resting against my shoulder.

Our fingers touched, resting on my stomach. I spread
out our fingers until our hands were palm to palm. I traced my
fingers over hers, down to her palm then back up. Guinevere began
speaking.

“The Holy Order owns me, Jack. Bought with a price
that I can never repay.”

“Tell me the figure and I will
give it to you.” I whispered because my voice would not rise higher
for all of the anger choking me.

“Money means nothing to them. They bought me with
secrets, and the price of leaving them is more than I could ever
sacrifice. So, when I say that I cannot marry you, it is not that I
do not want to more than I have ever wanted any other thing in my
life. It is that I cannot choose my greatest heart’s desire over
the secrets of my past.”

My head was turned on the pillow. Her face had not
shown any emotion when she spoke, not anger, not sorrow, not pain.
She was like a canvas painted white, but just because you could not
see the picture did not mean that it was not there. I knew that if
I could strip back the layer of paint I would see a masterpiece
that would both amaze and terrify me.

“I will never give up.”

She turned her face on my arm until she was looking
at me, our noses nearly touching. She allowed her sorrow to slip
through the shield that guarded her. “I know.”

We laid there for a few hours talking about our
childhoods, of how the Phantoms were formed, how I came to America,
her first horse, her first time eating a peach, but never about her
family, her past, or her secrets. She was cautious about what she
told me, but I accepted anything she would give me because it was a
tiny glimpse into who she truly was, not the white phantom, but the
eighteen year old girl.

When we had drained my flask, she started to speak
of the artifacts. I listened intently, recording everything in my
mind. The first three artifacts that the Holy Order had brought
with them were the chalice, the black box, and a ring.

It disheartened me to think that Bess and I had had
two of the three original artifacts in our keeping and let one of
them slip through our fingers.

The small sword she said was used for the swearing
ceremonies where they anointed a new lord to the twelve. The dagger
was used for the blood sacrifice. When I looked askance, she
smiled, flicking her finger lightly over my cheek. She said it was
only a small cut on the palm and three drops of blood into the
chalice.

The book of incantations was read from during their
ceremonies. The original snake ring was worn by the leader of their
enemy, and the last ring was worn by the leader of the Holy Order.
It was all perplexing, but she never did say what the black box was
used for.

We slept for a few hours, her head on my chest and
my arm around her waist, holding her securely against me. If she
moved an inch, I woke, ready to fight to keep her with me.

It was half past four when we rose and gathered up
the blankets. I knew I had half an hour before she would leave me
again, but I had to make a final push for her.

When all the blankets were folded, and she had put
on her gloves and was seated on a crate, I moved to stand before
her, drawing her to her feet. My fingers pulled on the edge of her
black glove until it slipped over her wrist, her fingers, and then
fluttered to the ground.

She was watching my every movement, and the way she
held her breath, I knew she was fighting her resolve. I raised her
palm to my lips.

“I know a way to get you away from the Holy Order.”
She looked skeptical. “Marry me,” I whispered against her warm
palm.

“No,” she said immediately.

I ran my lips from her palm to her fingers and
kissed each one slowly. Her whole body quivered, and that drove me
on. I turned her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“Marry me, and I will help you protect your
secret.”

“No,” she replied with a little less firmness.

Smiling, I released a deep breath against her
knuckles, allowing the warmth of my breath to seep into her
skin.

“Marry me.”

“No,” she said, as more of a question.

My lips parted, and I slowly traced them along the
length of her fingers. I linked our fingers and bent our arms,
drawing her closer to me. Our foreheads touched and her eyes
slipped closed.

“Marry me,” I whispered as our noses touched.

“Hmm,” she responded, and I knew she was close to
agreeing.

I kissed her cheek and made a soft and slow
procession down her cheek to her jaw, across her chin and then up
the other side of her jaw. I kissed the edges of her mouth, but not
her lips. Those I was saving. Her body was leaning against mine,
and her eyes were still closed.

“Marry me,” I said against the tip of her mouth.

“You do not know what you are asking,” she
whispered.

Starting my trail along her jaw
and chin again, I said, “I do know. I vow to you that I will
cherish you, and protect you, and love you without restraint, and
together we will
protect your
secrets.”

Her chin tilted up slightly so I could have better
access to her jaw, and I smiled.

“When?”

My lips paused against her cheek, and then I pulled
back. My heart was beating fiercely in my tight-feeling chest. It
was as if I were standing on a precipice, knowing that my greatest
dream was waiting for me at the bottom of a ledge, but if I did not
fall the right way, I would miss the ledge completely. I was
terrified to place all my trust in what had for so long felt like
an unattainable dream. What if she changed her mind? After a
moment, her eyes opened and she smiled. My hands came up to cup her
cheeks, and I leaned until our foreheads were together again.