Bess
10 January 1817
Philadelphia
The days that had followed the capture of Levitas were filled with new developments. Richard, having no other family, had left all of his holdings to my mother in his will. His affections had never been a pretense. Jack and I had announced our desire to leave the Phantoms, and sure enough, all of my team except Levi also wanted out.
Levi joined Freddy’s team, while newly married Mariah and Jericho moved to our family farm in North Carolina. Andrew and I had settled upon the twentieth of May to be married. After all of the horrible occurrences that had happened on my birthday, I wanted something good to overshadow the bad.
Jack had been gone for two months. He had stayed with me through October, and then he had left. He did not tell me what he was doing, but there was no need. I knew that he was searching for her.
A week after Jack left, George, Freddy, and Levi arrived at my house demanding that I turn over to them all the artifacts that Jack had stolen. I did the only thing I could to keep them safe. I lied. I told them that Jack had taken the artifacts with him. George did not believe me, and he wanted to search the house. It was Andrew’s timely arrival that kept them from carrying out that injustice. I gave orders to Arnaud not to permit them in the house again. I had to hide the artifacts in a safer place than my bedchamber.
Thankfully, I did not hear from them again, until today. Levi had come to the house with a message from George. He needed me to go on a mission. I refused until Levi told me whom I was to meet.
For that alone was why I was slinking my way through alleys and deserted roads toward the port.
The moon was masked by patches of gray clouds, and where puddles had been from the rain of the last few days was now ice. I pulled my coat closer around the maid’s uniform that I wore as directed. If I did not catch my death running through the streets in freezing temperatures, it would be a miracle.
The past year of 1816 had been proclaimed as the coldest ever remembered. Even across the ocean, other countries suffered the cold. Crops had been ruined; the prices of food from the last harvest had been nearly tripled, and every month saw ice upon the ground. We had no real summer, and many people had died in the northern states due to the cold and lack of coal and food. I had heard that many people were migrating westward where it was claimed to be warmer.
A week after we had captured Levitas, we saw flurries of snow—in August. It was being hailed as the year without a summer. The cold stretched from Canada all the way to Georgia. Our housekeeper in Savannah had written that, on the Fourth of July, the temperature was a startling forty-six degrees. We wore our winter clothing all the year long, never being able to wear the lighter fabrics that surrounded the summer months.
As I moved closer to the port, I could not help but wish that Jack was with me. But no, he was off in search of the woman who was the cause of the brand that would forever be a part of my back.
Pushing Guinevere away from my thoughts, I focused on the road ahead. When I reached the docks, I pulled my black, wool hood closer to my chin and hurried past the tavern and its music and loud, drunken men. Thankfully, there were no such men outside as I passed the door.
There were three warehouses, a mercantile, and the tavern along this stretch of the Delaware River, and it was at the end of the row that I was to meet a man who had once been like a brother to me. As I reached the last warehouse, a shadow appeared before me. I threw up my fists before my face, as my feet skidded across the slippery bricks of the road. The clouds parted above, and I looked straight into Henry Shultz’s face.
Henry and Ben had been with our team since the beginning; until Ben was murdered. I had not seen Henry since the funeral that our team held for Ben. We had searched for him, but he was a Phantom, and he knew how to cover his trail. He had not wanted us to find him. I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him as tight as I could. He was thinner, too thin, and his yellow hair had grown out hanging past his shoulders, but I was relieved to see him again.
He held me back. “We do not have much time. I have something that I need you to hold for me.” He looked up and down the road, and then pulled a black, odd-shaped box from inside his coat.
My breath caught in my throat. It was the black box Pierre had been guarding; the same box that Dimitri turned over to Levitas. I took it from his hands and turned it over in my own inspecting it.
After placing it in the bag that Henry held open, and tying the bag around the strings of my apron, I watched Henry closely. He was fidgety, his eyes darting up and down the docks.
“Bess,” he whispered, “you must protect this box with your life. There are those who will kill to get it back.”
“I will guard it with my life,” I promised. Now I had five of the seven artifacts. All that was left were the rings.
“Whatever you do, do not tell George that you have it.” Henry kissed my forehead and turned me back the way I had come. “Go, and whatever you hear, do not look back.”
“What—” I was cut off by Henry disappearing down the alley between two of the buildings.
The biting wind rolling off the water made my teeth chatter. I had reached the water road, when two, loud gun shots shattered the stillness of the night. Looking behind me, fog was covering the air. Other than the light coming from the lamp post outside the tavern, I could see nothing beyond the tavern.
Henry had told me not to look back. It was almost as if he knew. Choking back a cry, I started to run through the fog and past the tavern and warehouses.
Beyond the warehouses, there were rows of stacked crates waiting to be transported. The sound had come from this direction. I gripped my pistol in my right hand and my dagger in my left as I glanced down the first row, then the second. Light was shining through a gap between two crates. It was coming from the third row.
Gripping my weapons tighter, I eased my way around the crates, had my first look toward the light, and dropped my dagger. My hand muffled my mouth, as I let out a cry.
Henry was sprawled on the ground, staring at the night sky. Reaching him, I dropped to my knees, crying through clenched teeth. Tears fell from my eyes like silent raindrops. Henry’s face was contorted in fear, and a fresh sob rose from my throat.
One half of his coat was off his shoulder, as if someone had searched him roughly, but the other half covering his chest had two ball shaped holes that were seeping crimson.
My shaking hand that was covering my mouth reached toward the bloody mess of his chest. I was desperate to feel the beating of his heart, but it was as silent as my tears.
A point of something hard touched my fingers, as I was drawing my hand away from his silent chest. I pushed his coat away, and there lying on his chest was a letter…addressed to Elizabeth Martin.
My sharp intake of breath shook my body. It was not Henry’s handwriting. I saw at that moment my mistake. Whoever had murdered Henry had placed the letter on him and left a lantern on purpose, knowing I would come.
Biting my lip, I broke the seal and unfolded a single sheet. The symbol at the bottom of the page leapt at my heart as if it were a serpent there to destroy me. The pyramid with the lightning bolt. But this one was different from Levitas. This one had two letters in the center of the pyramid. H and O.
The Holy Order knew my identity. My heart rose and fell in quick, short, panicked breaths. My eyes rose to the message. Two words. That was all.
Look up.
“Elizabeth?” came an incredulous, horrified voice.
The familiar flutters danced in my body, but it was a dance of death. I did not want to look—but I did. “Andrew.”
Read on for a sneak peek at the next adventure in the Phantom Knights series
THE
Charleston
CHASE
Phantoms In Philadelphia (Phantom Knights Book 1) Page 57
