10 August 1816

  George’s country house was a comfortable, brick, two story structure built in the Federal style. Windows overlooked the front lawn and the woods that surrounded the house. Freddy and his five deputies were outside the house hidden among the trees and outbuildings, while Mariah and I were hiding in the two bedchambers that had windows overlooking the front drive. The drive was a long one that split the forest in two.

  Mariah’s accomplished weapon was the bow, and as I was skilled in archery, as well, we were to open the windows at the first sign of trouble and shoot down anyone who tried to enter the house. Jack was keeping guard over Monroe in the parlor, while Jericho and Levi were outside with Freddy’s team.

  Great black clouds were rolling through the sky, and there were a few flashes of lightning as thunder rumbled the earth. We were in store for another rain storm. The last week, we had seen nothing but rain and cold. The sun had been absent, and nothing but gloom surrounded the city and the countryside.

  The clock in the foyer below started to chime the hours, and I could feel each ding in my nerves. I was stretched tighter than the string on my bow. We had gone over the plan many, many times, but I had been a Phantom a long time, so I knew missions rarely went according to plan. After seven chimes, all went silent. I was seated before the window, when I caught sight of a flash of light down the drive.

  A black carriage moved up the drive with lanterns illuminating it until it stopped before the door. One of Freddy’s men was there to meet the carriage in the guise of footman. The two men on the box seat stared down at Anthony but said nothing. The light from the parlor windows illuminated their black eyes. Fear skittered down my spine as I saw our mistake. They knew we were here. I threw open the window to yell a warning, but Anthony had opened the carriage door. The first gunshot exploded from within the carriage, hitting Anthony in the chest. A cry caught in my throat as I gripped the windowsill.

  Phantoms ran forward from their places, and the driver whipped the horses. The carriage lurched forward moving straight for the trees. Freddy and the Phantoms fired upon the carriage. They hit the driver and the man beside him. The bolting horses ran the carriage straight into a tree.

  From the front woods, six horses charged onto the lawn, their riders armed and firing upon my team below. I grabbed for my first arrow, and when I looked out, Mariah had shot two. I took aim at one of the riders as he pulled to a halt, unsheathing his sword and raising it in the air. He, like the rest, was masked. My arrow pierced him in the chest, knocking him off his horse.

  Mariah and I let arrows fly, as Freddy and Jericho charged with swords drawn to fight the horsemen. Six more men came running from the trees, and I turned my aim toward them, hitting one, missing one, Mariah hit one and then another. The men mixed together in their fighting; all of them masked. In the dark, I could no longer make out one from the other, so I set to guard the front door. If anyone approached I shot at them.

  An arrow of fire flew down from Mariah’s window, and then another. She shot her fire arrows, until she had formed a line before the front door. A man ran toward the arrows but stopped short. He raised a pistol toward Mariah’s window. I dropped my bow, reaching for my revolving triple barrel pistol. Before I could aim, he fired at her window.

  With the swift jerk of my finger, a ball flew from my pistol and the man fell back. I jumped to my feet and flew out of the bedchamber, sliding on a hall rug before running into the chamber Mariah was using.

  She was lying on the floor, but she was unharmed. I helped her up, and she crawled to the window. She peeked out from the side and jerked back as another ball flew through the open window. She picked up her own triple barrel pistol that was identical to mine and inched closer to the window. She fired three shots and tossed the pistol away, picking up another arrow. She continued shooting arrows into the darkness, and I left her to go back to my own window.

  Levi was guarding the door on the back of the house, but I felt a sudden, strong urge to check on him. Grabbing my sheath of arrows and my bow, I ran across the hall to the back bedchamber. When I reached the window, he was not at his post. Searching the grounds, something flew from within the trees. Levi? I bumped my head against the glass as I leaned into the window. A man’s form was on the ground unmoving, but from the length of his body, he was too tall to be Levi. Then, three more figures appeared. Levi was wildly struggling against two men who were trying to pull him back into the woods.

  A strangled cry came from my throat while my heart beat too fast, hard. I would not let them take him! Unlatching the window and throwing it open, I pulled out an arrow and took aim. Breathing in and out, I watched and waited. If I took the shot too early I could hit Levi, who was fighting valiantly. He thrashed against them, threw his head around like a wild animal and finally got an arm free. They were at the edge of the trees. Levi kicked one of the men into the clearing, and I let my arrow fly. The arrow went through his stomach.

  Levi and the other man stopped fighting to look toward me. The man beside Levi raised something that looked like a thick tree branch and hit Levi over the head. Levi pitched forward onto the lawn.

  Terror washed over me like the waves of the ocean during a hurricane. As I unleashed a flow of arrows, the man ran back into the trees. I shot until my quiver was empty. The man appeared through the trees and wasted no time in picking Levi up, tossing him over his shoulder, and disappearing again. I ran to the bedchamber door, about to run down the stairs and chase after the man, when I heard a gun fire. It did not come from outside. It came from the parlor. I had been afraid many times in my life, but I never knew true fear until that night.

  Chills were imprinted all along my arms and weak legs, but I ran to the banister. Another shot fired in the parlor, and I sank to my knees, my legs unwilling to carry me further. My head ached fiercely with all the terror pouring into every part of me.

  Gripping two balusters, I looked to the foyer below. Two men carried a body from the parlor with a gunshot wound in the chest. It was Monroe.

  “No!” I screamed. My pistol was out, and I was running down the stairs, but it did not feel real. I was moving, but it was as if I was moving through a fog, unable to feel, unable to see clearly. The men carrying Monroe paid no heed to me, exiting through a door at the back of the house. My feet hit the foyer floor, about to run after them, but I glanced toward the parlor and everything else blurred.

  Lowering my pistol to my side, I whispered, “Jack.”

  Jack was lying on the floor, red staining the shoulder of his coat. The walls were closing in on me from every direction, but I had to reach him. I had to help him. My little brother. I ran forward. The parlor door flew at me, slamming against my face.

  Stumbling back, I took a moment to shake the pain from my head. A growl forced its way up my throat and across my lips. I shoved the door against the wall, ready to commit murder.

  Jack had told me that the only times he had killed men was because he was trying to save someone else. He said that when you are in the situation, you don’t have time to think; you can only act. That is why it is vital to know your limitations before you ever commit to something. I knew my limitations, but I lived my capabilities. A man stood between me and my brother, and he had to be eliminated.

  The man with more fat than muscle had a pistol pointed at Jack’s head. I took a step into the room. He cocked his pistol. “Take her,” he demanded, of who I was not sure, until four strong hands clamped around my arms from behind.

  I swung wild. I jerked and lashed out with my boots. They had my arms, but I still had my pistol. I pulled the trigger. The ball grazed the side of the fat man’s face. His scream was nothing to my own. I screamed for my team. A large hand smacked against my mouth and stayed there.

  Guinevere walked into the room and knelt down beside Jack, and then my vision exploded with black.