Leo had come through for us with the location of Stark Manor. It was a house outside the city and one of the country houses that the more affluent citizens flocked to during the summer months. After there had been a citywide epidemic of yellow fever in 1793 that took the lives of nearly five thousand people, those who could afford to do so quit the city for the fresh aired country.

  When we reached Stark Manor, it was hidden from the road by a long lane in the middle of a large wood. We rode past the lane, circling the house through the trees, and stopping where the woods dipped down a hill then opened into a meadow that had a small pond. We tied our horses there, making sure to secure them where they could graze.

  As we came upon the back of Stark Manor, we halted, my breath stalling for a moment.

  The back of a three story gray stone country house was before us and built onto the back of the house was a two story round structure that had a colorful glass dome rising as high as the roof. Jack and I exchanged a look of wonder before scouting the area. There was a stone courtyard and drive that came down the side of the house directly to a large stable building. The courtyard was clear of people, so we sprinted across the green lawn and on around the left side of the house. At the front, the first windows looked into an empty dining parlor, and the door that led from the room was closed.

  I kept watch while Jack tried to open the window. The first one he tried was unlatched, so he pried it open and climbed through. I followed, closing the window behind me. As I placed my ear against the door, all sounded quiet. Jack grabbed a red apple from a compote of fruit, placed it in his pocket, then nodded his readiness. Easing open the door; all was clear in the wide foyer, but voices came from behind a closed door across from the dining parlor.

  We ascended the staircase, which had plush, but faded red carpet that muffled our steps. In the dark upstairs hallway, the only light came from the windows in the large bedchambers that we passed. There was one door that beckoned to us. It was black with a golden lion head shaped knob. After listening for sounds on the other side, I slowly turned the knob. It opened into the round room, and I let out a little gasp. We stepped off the carpeted floor of the hallway onto a black iron walkway that followed the walls in one large circle.

  In incredulous awe, our eyes took in the ornate surroundings. Carved and painted on the center of the floor below was a large emblem of a golden pyramid with a gold lightning bolt through the center and running along the outside were leaves and vines of ivy.

  Gold throne chairs with blue cushions lined the walls angling toward a platform against the far wall that held three larger thrones. The same emblem that was on the floor was also on the wall behind the platform. It was the most ostentatious room that I had ever looked upon. Jack shut the door to the hall as I looked fully around the room. There were three doors that led off the walkway, with matching doors on the first floor. A few alcoves were carved into the walls along the walkway with either half naked statues or groups of palms that covered the alcove. I raised my eyes to the dome, even larger than it had appeared on the outside. The sides were etched glass stained red, blue and gold, but the top was of clear glass, and I could see the darkening sky above. It was nearing nine, and the light was fading. I moved to the right, following along the iron walkway as I counted the throne chairs below.

  “There are thirteen in all,” I said to Jack. I started to say something else when Jack held a finger to his lips and pointed to an alcove behind me. I pushed through the palms followed immediately by Jack as he leapt through. We resettled the leaves to wait for whatever it was that Jack had heard.

  A loud thud echoed through the room, and I tensed.

  “Light all the candles. The twelve will arrive soon,” a deep voice said from near the door. We stayed completely still as two men walked their way around, lighting the candles that were set in gold sconces along the walls.

  The same gruff voice yelled, “Don’t be lighting those, fool!”

  Soft glow from the candles lit the room as the sky above turned black. Boots stomping along the walkway moved closer to our hiding place, then stopped right before us. We did not move, and I did not breathe. I closed my eyes and began to pray.

  “What time are they to arrive?” A different man’s voice asked.

  “Even now the first carriages arrive. The ceremony will begin at nine rings of the clock. Come, we must get to our places,” the gruff voice replied before moving away.

  The door closed with more force than necessary, and I released my breath. Jack was sitting against the wall across from me, and when my stomach growled, loud and surly, he chuckled.

  “I have not eaten since breakfast,” I whispered.

  Jack pulled the apple from his pocket and tossed it to me. I caught it, twisted the stem out, then placed my thumbs on the top of the apple, applying pressure and pulling out. The apple made a crunching noise as it split in two. My father had taught us how to split apples with our hands when I was nine. He would say that one never knew when they would be without a knife.

  We sat eating apple pieces and watching the room below through the small gaps between the leaves. It was almost like a picnic, if you did not count the murdering lunatics, giant, or throne room of iniquity. At our angle, we could see the door below, all the thrones on the far wall, and part of the platform.

  Ten minutes passed before the doors below opened, and men started entering the room, each was holding a single lit candle. Every man placed his candle in the sconce beside his chair then stood silently. They wore long, blue capes with hoods pulled up, shading their faces from our view. Their suits under the capes were dark blue with golden scrolls running along the sides of their trousers and up the sleeves of their coats.

  A white haired woman entered wearing the same cape but with a dress underneath. A gold chain encrusted with sapphires hung around her thin neck. She moved to the throne directly across the room. A silent moment passed before two men, one of them Nicholas, entered, walking together toward the platform. A silent minute passed, and when the doors opened again, a figure dressed in a long white cloak entered. I leaned forward for a better look at the woman in white. She was not as ethereal as I had first thought her in Washington. I felt Jack tense beside me. His eyes were intent upon the woman in white. There was something between them, something that ran deeper than her grazing his arm with that shot; I would swear to it. I looked back down in time to see her smirk at the men on the platform.

  All air left me in a rush as my mind reeled. I knew that smirk. I knew that smirk well. Her hood was covering her hair completely, but both her height and slender frame assured me. The woman in white was Hannah Lamont.

  Jack was still watching her, but after a moment, his eyes widened and he leaned forward on his hand, as if trying to get closer to her.

  “Yes,” I hissed. He looked at me, and I nodded, watching as his jaw began to work. He was trying to gain control of his emotions.

  Hannah stood before the chair next to the white-haired woman as the man who had entered with Nicholas stepped forward and spoke.

  “Let the ceremony commence. Brothers and sisters, as you know at our last meeting we swore in our new leader. It is with humble unworthiness that I present to you the new lord of Levitas.”

  Nicholas took a step forward, stood next to the other man on the platform, and returned Hannah’s smirk, but she was not paying him any heed. Her attention was focused on the crest on the floor. I wanted to shoot them both. Not to kill, but to repay them for all the trouble, the disappearances, the giant, the pain they caused Jack. It would be so simple; there were two of them, and I happened to have two pistols. All it would require would be aiming my pistols...

  The doors creaked open, and I glanced at them, and at that moment everything within me lurched.

  My emotions were in a spiral. Disbelief had my mind shouting doubts, then alarm had me clenching my fists. Another bout of disbelief had me telling myself it was not so, a surge of fear caused a shiver to race up my spine. Rage coated th
e fear, and then I was back to disbelief.

  This cannot be. This cannot be.

  Richard.

  Richard’s black cape made his look like a bat as he walked toward the platform. A gold ring with a ruby stone glittered on his finger.

  Rage pumped my blood, and I could hear it swishing in my ears. I felt Jack shift beside me. Jack was reaching for his pistol. I grabbed his wrist, and his eyes shot to mine. I was momentarily taken aback. I had never seen such fury in his eyes, and I had seen Jack angry many, many times. As I shook my head, his face became a sneer as he pulled his arm from my grasp, but released the handle of his pistol.

  Richard stepped on the platform then spun with his cape twirling behind him. “Be seated.”

  Everyone but Richard sat. “Brothers and Sisters, let us welcome the gods of thunder and lightning.” Richard raised his head and looked toward the dome, and his eyes rolled back as he spouted off a Greek incantation. Lightning flashed across the sky above the glass dome, and I jerked, bumping my arm against the wall. I had not known it was storming until that moment.

  Richard smiled and lowered his head. “I have given my oath to serve you, and my first order as your new lord is to unmask a traitor within our midst.”

  I could not help but look at Hannah. She was, after all, the only one wearing a mask.

  “Bring forth the traitor,” Richard’s voice boomed.

  Dimitri ducked to get through the door pulling with him a bound man with a black cloth, like a sack, covering the man’s head. Richard sat upon his center throne and flicked his finger upward, gesturing for Dimitri to remove the bag. My insides had recoiled before I was reaching for my own pistol.

  Pierre.

  If hearts could stop, even for a moment, then mine surely did. I had my suspicions that Pierre was taken by Levitas but not this. Never this.

  Jack grabbed my wrist, and when I met his gaze he shook his head, but I could tell that it was with reluctance.

  Pierre rose to the middle of Dimitri’s large chest, showing no fear as he stared at Richard.

  “Pierre Travoy, you are charged with selling secrets to the enemy, betraying our trust, and associating with Phantoms.” At the sound of our name, I tensed as my heartbeat skittered, and my palms began to sweat. “Kneel,” Richard said to Pierre, but he did not comply, so Richard snapped his fingers, and Dimitri shoved Pierre to his knees.

  Richard moved to stand before Pierre. “Let it be known that all traitors of the order will be dealt with the same way. As the leader of Levitas, I will not allow any to come against us, and with the power that has been given me through the gods of thunder and lightning I shall strike.” Richard’s hands came down hard on Pierre’s shoulders. There was a look of something inhuman on Richard’s face, like it was someone else there, someone bloodthirsty, instead of the kind man that I had met in my brother’s library.

  Pierre screamed a sound that caused icy shards to freeze my blood, and a flash of lightning illuminated the dome overhead. Pierre’s body started convulsing, and Richard released his shoulders but kept his hand extended above Pierre as Pierre dropped on his back, writhing in certain pain. I could not move, could not take my eyes away from Pierre and the terrible thing happening to him. I felt Jack take my hand, realizing how badly it was shaking. We could not do anything to help him. I did not even know what was wrong with him. I watched and listened in horrified silence to the muffled shrieks that came from Pierre. Then it was all over. Pierre’s eyes stared up, but there was no life there, no movement, nothing but terror and death. My shaking hand covered my mouth, but I did not fully understand what had happened. Movement all around the room made my gaze snap to each member that I could see. Every one of them was squirming in their seats, fear on all of their faces, save one.

  Hannah was not looking at Pierre’s dead body but at Richard, with a look of complete unconcern on the part of her face that I could see. I knew she was a cold-hearted wretch, but I never knew how heartless she was until that moment.

  Richard snapped his fingers again, and Dimitri dragged Pierre’s lifeless body from the room. Richard was speaking to the members, but I could not hear it.

  “How many guns have you?” Jack asked against my ear, and I held up two fingers. He cursed softly.

  Why did I not bring the others? There were only four pistols between us and no way to charge out to capture Richard, not without one of us being harmed—or worse. Who knew what Richard would have done to us if he caught us watching his ceremony. We would not escape; I knew that much.

  When the ceremony ended and all the members were gone from the throne room, Jack and I climbed from the alcove. The hallway outside the throne room was completely dark as we made our way toward the stairs in silence. I was about to go down, when Jack caught my arm and pulled me back. The white-haired woman stepped into the house through the open front door as the rain poured outside the house.

  “Do not walk away from me!” said an angry voice from the room across from the dining parlor. The older woman moved, so she could see into that room.

  “You have tried to make me look the fool.” It was Nicholas’s voice; I recognized the English lilt.

  “You do not need my help for that,” a woman’s sultry voice replied, and I stiffened. It was her voice.

  Nicholas spoke again though softer. “When you approached us for a place in the society, it was I who gained you entry into this sacred court, but do you treat it as you should? Do you respect the key that I have offered? No.”

  “If you believe that because you spoke for me I should feel indebted to become your wife, you are far from the mark. I owe no man.”

  A shadow stepped up behind the white-haired woman and gripped her arm. She screeched, shrinking away until she saw it was only Richard. “Listening at the door, Mrs. Lewis? Surely you have better uses for your time than to listen to a lover’s spat.” Richard held out his arm and the woman laid her hand on it. They walked into the room together.

  “Why you must quarrel so much I declare I know not,” the older woman scolded.

  “When Nicholas accepts that I shall never marry him, our quarrels will cease. My life may not be my own, but it shall never belong to Nicholas.” The woman in white walked into the foyer, slamming the door behind her. She was still hooded and cloaked, but I could tell that she was taking a deep breath.

  She walked past the stairs disappearing from our view. Jack touched my shoulder, and we moved down the stairs. I thought we were going toward the dining parlor, but Jack turned us right at the stairs.

  Beyond the stairs was a hall, dimly lit, with portraits hanging on both walls and three doors. Jack stopped at the first door on the right that had not been fully closed. It led to a staircase that went down below the house. Jack pulled out his pistol, and I had followed suit before we descended. At the bottom of the stairs was a cold, damp room that had jars and marked crates of food stacked. There was a door directly before the stairs that had not been closed all the way. Leaning against the stone wall, we looked into the room. She was standing with her back to us looking down at something on the floor. She shifted, and I saw Pierre’s face. I sucked in a silent breath as despair and sadness washed over me. We lost a great ally this day. Hannah knelt beside Pierre. There was a small vial in her hand that she uncorked. She placed a hand beneath Pierre’s head and tilting it up; she slipped the rim of the vial into his mouth and poured the contents in.

  “Arise, Pierre. Death is not yours this day.”

  Confusion and disbelief coursed through me. The woman was mad. Pierre’s eyes fluttered, and his back arched.

  My shaking hand came up to cover my mouth as Pierre’s eyes opened, and his head turned toward the door. Jack and I both jerked our heads back. Jack motioned for the stairs. I was near to bursting with questions, but I remained silent as we made our ascent. We pushed open the door and walked through, right into a man as wide as the door.

  “Intruders,” he spat, trying to grab Jack. Jack threw his fist into
the man’s gut, shoved him back, and we ran into the throne room, Jack slamming the door behind us.

  The man’s shouts made us run toward a room to the right of the platform. There was a single candle burning in the room illuminating a long table and a spiral staircase that rose to the second floor. Jack grabbed the table, and we shoved it against the door. There was one other door, on the back wall that I moved to, pulling with all my strength. Pounding echoed through the room followed by splinters of wood as a large fist made a hole in the barricaded door behind us. Jack shoved me away from the door I was pulling on, unbolted the top and threw it open. We jumped through and dropped onto hard ground.

  “Run, Raven, lead them away. I am going for Pierre.” Jack ran toward the side of the house, and I ran across the lawn to the woods. I pulled my special triple barrel pistol from my pocket as I ran through the dark trees, rain droplets, and tree limbs hitting me in the face. I needed a diversion to give Jack time to rescue Pierre. I heard shouts and curses behind me as the guards were entering the woods. I stumbled over a fallen log and fell to my knees, pain shooting through my legs. Laying flat on my stomach leaning into the log, I heard the men coming closer. I was wearing all black except for the red on my mask, but I kept my face and body pressed against the log. My heart was beating like a war cry as I heard leaves rustle and twigs snap around me.

  “Spread out and find them!”

  I stayed against the log for what felt like an hour but was closer to five minutes. When I could no longer hear leaves or twigs, I pushed to my knees with my back hunched over and looked around. My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, but I could only see a few feet before my face. As branches swayed and leaves rustled, no larger figures moved. I jumped up and ran to my right, cutting to the eastern trees opposite to where the guards were heading. I kept looking over at the house to see if Jack had come out. The shadows were many as the moon broke through the clouds. I thought I saw a small man darting across the lawn. I ran along the edge of the trees so that he would know where I was.

  A large shadow jumped out from behind a tree, and I shrieked as I slammed into his chest. He grabbed my arm. I threw the barrel of my pistol against his head; my fist struck his nose, and I shoved him off, running deeper into the woods. He did not follow me that I could tell, but I was feeling skittish, and my heart felt like it would explode within my chest if I stopped. Our horses were not at all contented at being left in the rain with lightning flashing and thunder rumbling the earth. I pulled some sugar from my saddle bag and held out both my hands. Pegasus nipped it immediately, but Brutus was angry and stomping. A rustling came from behind me, and dread pulsed through my blood, danced along my arms, darted up and down my spine. I turned, raising my pistol at the dark trees.

  Jack broke through the trees. I leaned against Pegasus in profound relief. I quickly untied the reins and mounted Pegasus. Jack grabbed Brutus’s reins and climbed swiftly into the saddle.

  When we were a safe distance away from Stark Manor, I asked Jack about Pierre. His face was grim in the moonlight. “He and the white phantom were not there.”

  That was the strangest night of my life. Richard was a leader of a deadly secret society; Pierre was killed and then brought back to life, and Hannah Lamont was a black magic wielding white phantom. Life had taken a turn into lunacy.

  Chapter 10