Bride of the Night

CHAPTER EIGHT

GRISSOM, LONDON, LAFFERTY and Richard were on watch. They had all exhibited a heightened sense of awareness since the night before, so Finn decided that he could dare ease off and trust in the intelligence of the others. Captain Tremblay was still falling in and out of sleep, gathering new strength, but in the morning, he'd be better off than when the night had begun. MacKay was watching him, and the world around them. Finn eased down to lie on an elbow as he spoke to Tara resting on her pallet.
"I can tell you something about you, first," Finn said, smiling at her. "Your brother was a Southern physician. He was almost killed, but he revived. I think people considered it something of a miracle. He was practicing medicine in New Orleans when an old general asked for his help out in Texas-where he'd been born. He went out there, became friends with the general and a sheriff, and they all came east when things started going awry in the Harpers Ferry area. That's about when he first met his sister, Megan." He smiled slightly. "I've wanted to meet Cody and Megan Fox, but circumstances haven't allowed for it. So, this is the story as I know it, and I believe it to be true. Your grandfather was taken and killed, but he didn't die, he changed. And there have been those who had seen him around the country ever since. When I heard your name, I told myself there were plenty of Foxes in the world, but then I'd realized your ability to disappear at will, and I had a pretty good feeling I knew exactly who you were."
"My father never married my mother," Tara told him. "But he did insist that I have his name, said it would be important in the future...?. Will I be able to meet them? Are they friends with each other? Were they... Are their hearts with the North or the South?"
"Now? Neither. Like most of us, they see the travesty. Half the country is stripped and beaten. Great cities are burned-out ruins. They want the war over," Finn said.
"How do you know so much about them if you haven't met them?" Tara asked.
He smiled. "As I said, we keep missing one another. But we've been called to serve the same leader."
"And that is?"
"Lincoln."
She rolled on an elbow to face him as he spoke. The firelight burned gently over her face and hair, casting a glow of beauty on each. Her eyes were such an unusual hazel-although, among their kind, hazel was not a rare color. Still, hers seem to radiate in so many shades and hues.
"I wish I knew a way to make you believe. My passion has been to reach Abraham Lincoln, yes, but not to hurt him. There's something in my mind that's so real, I believe he has to know of it. I feel that he's spoken with me. And I keep trying to warn him that he has to be careful. I have this urge to be near him, so that I might cast myself between him and any danger," she told him. "Don't you see?" she asked urgently. "Most of us see that Atlanta was destroyed, and that Savannah had no hope but to surrender. Soon, there will be no young men in the South-they'll all be dead on the altar of sacrifice they once so nobly thought of as 'the cause.'"
She paused. "Finn, most thinking people in the South are bitter, and they know that the punishment the South will experience will be severe when this is all done. I know that you fear for Lincoln's life constantly-honestly, I do, too."
She was so earnest. He wanted to believe her.
Or forget the war. The endless years of bloodshed. The men who walked every city on crutches now, minus a leg, or with a pinned sleeve where a healthy arm should have been. There would always be monsters in the world, and when he had chosen to become a Pinkerton agent, he'd known he'd seek out monsters. But a war where families killed families, where sons died on their father's land, where brothers might die in one another's arms, went beyond all cruelty in the human mind.
He was startled when she reached out and touched him, her fingers just brushing his cheek.
She flushed. "I'm sorry-you seemed a million miles away for a moment," she told him.
A million miles away, and yet, I sense you here so acutely that it's painful, and still so seductive that I don't want to be anywhere else in the world.
"No, I'm here. I was just thinking about the war," he said.
"What about you?" she asked him.
"Pardon?"
"You. You are a half-breed, right?" She smiled as she asked the question.
He nodded. "My father was taken in an Indian fray in Illinois. My mother was determined to save his life. Through him, I was born with vampire blood, which is, of course, the same way you became this way. My mother did save my dad-thankfully, since that's why I am here now. Years later, however, they were both killed by a rogue band of vampires. I was a boy at the time. Later, I was introduced to Allan Pinkerton. He started off as a detective in Chicago when he was being fleeced and cheated. He began to grow the agency, and with the war, many of us were brought on to protect the president-and ferret out those who were trying to kill him. And, of course, as you can imagine, I am determined to fight those who make monsters of us all."
"Of course. How-how did they manage to kill your father?" she asked.
He looked away. He could still visualize the day as he told her the story. His father had become a champion of the people, protecting against any danger, including outlaws, murderers and thieves-those who preyed upon the farmers and ranchers on the frontier. When the vampires had descended upon their town, Andre Dunne had led the men out to meet them, and he'd brought them down, including their leader. But in his pitched sword battle with the leader, he'd lost his own life. Finn had been there to take part in the battle, even at the age of twelve. And when his father had lain dying, he had sent him back to care for his mother. Except that when he reached their house, he found that she had been murdered, probably before the battle had even begun. His rage and pain had nearly killed him-and almost set him upon a path of nothing but murder. But his uncle had arrived, and told him he'd die himself if he didn't learn control-and his own power. And that he needed to head into a field of higher learning so that he could best understand the world, and all the dangers within it. And so, he had gone with his uncle to grow up in Chicago, and there he had met Pinkerton, and first heard of Abraham Lincoln.
"I'm so sorry, Finn," she said softly. Again, the tone of her voice was sincere. Her hazel eyes gazed upon him with glittering compassion.
"It was a long time ago now," he told her.
"You knew them both. You obviously loved them. I believe that my father is out there somewhere. I hope that I can find him and meet him. My mother believed in him. She understood that he needed to keep moving on. She said that their time together was brief, but that she'd have rather been with him for a short time than with any other man for a lifetime. She loved him very much. And, of course, we were in Key West. Not that there aren't those there who believe themselves to be the height of society, but still..." She smiled. "We are isolated, and we have a population from all over the Caribbean, so it's easier to live and let live."
"And here we are," Finn murmured.
He lay back on the pallet. It was so good to be close to her. To rest. And yet, they weren't out of danger. They still didn't know exactly where the danger to the island had begun. A rogue vampire aboard the Union ship when it had left Key West? Or something out on the water?
And there was still the matter of discovering the identity of Gator.
He turned to look at Tara again, but her eyes had closed. She was sleeping. It was the sleep of one who needed the healing of time.
He rose and walked over to Captain Tremblay's pallet. Dr. MacKay sat at the captain's side, honing his sword.
"How is he doing?" Finn asked.
MacKay nodded. "Well. His color is returning, his pulse is strong. He has made a complete turnabout."
Finn walked out back, where Richard and Billy were keeping watch by the fire. All seemed quiet. Richard asked him, "Tara?"
"She is fine, sleeping," Finn told him.
Richard nodded.
Finn headed out to the front of the camp, and saw that Grissom and Lafferty were keeping watch on the sea.
"Anything?" Finn asked.
"The night is quiet," Lafferty told him.
He returned to the pallet next to Tara's. He eased himself down, and knew that he was exhausted, too. He had to trust in the others for a few hours. Feeling the heat of her body so close to his, he basked in the warmth, and slept.
THE STRANGE VISION CAME to Tara again that night.
She should have thought of it as a dream, but it wasn't a dream. It was as if a part of her traveled, and was, in truth, walking the corridors of the White House.
She stood in the room. Lincoln was at his desk. He looked up and smiled at her. "Welcome, my dear."
"It's good to see you, sir," she told him.
He was working with a number of papers on his desk. "I take heart. I still watch the casualty lists come in daily. But now I am working on my second inaugural address." He hesitated, looking at her. "I fear for my dear Mary. She had another seance in the Red Room last night. She feels the pain of fighting her own family so deeply. And she cannot bear the loss of our Willie...so many thoughts and dilemmas weigh down upon us all. And, of course, you are here to warn me again that I must take care of myself."
"You are needed."
He smiled. "It is good of you to say so. I have such strange dreams. Of course, this is one of them, because here you are, and yet, you are not. I don't know you, but I feel that I will."
"Yes, I want to be near you, sir. I want to protect you."
He smiled. "Now, girl, a slender beauty such as yourself, longing to protect a worn-out man who has aged twenty years in four. You give me faith, and that is something that I have fought to maintain throughout the hard and bitter years. I will see you soon?"
"God willing," Tara assured him.
She felt as if she was drawn backward through a field of mist.
And then she was on her pallet on the little island.
She blinked, awakening slowly. She could hear birds chirping. Beyond the tarp, she could see palm fronds gently weaving in the breeze.
She turned to her right, and smiled. Richard, ever faithful, was beside her.
She turned to her left and flushed; she had been sleeping curled against Finn's back. She moved quickly, which startled him; he grabbed her arm suddenly as he looked at her.
"I'm sorry!" she whispered.
He flushed, as well. "No, no, I'm sorry. I don't usually sleep so deeply."
He rose then, and she followed him. He walked out to the beach and looked out to the sea; the ship still awaited them.
Tremblay was up; he was staring out at the ship with a spyglass.
"Time to get moving, eh?" Tremblay asked Finn. "We've gotten the enemy off the ship, so I've been told?"
"So we believe, but this morning we'll again take care," Finn said.
"Aye, as you say. So, I shall have you move out with the same men who have now learned the most. We'll get pulleys and levers going to reload, and our ship's carpenter instructing us all as to repairing the broken mast. It's time, indeed, that we head out!"
"Apparently, sir, you are feeling chipper this morning?" Finn asked.
Tremblay smiled. "Thanks to you all," he said. He looked at Tara with the affection a man would show a daughter. "Thanks to you, so Dr. MacKay tells me. Child, you've saved my life. I am in your debt."
Tara dropped a little curtsy to him. "Captain, it was my pleasure."
"And you have suffered no ill effects?" he asked her.
"None whatsoever, sir. Despite our situation last night, I slept deeply."
"Well, good, then," Tremblay said. "I must say, it's like magic! I feel far more hale and hearty than I have in years. So, onward to the day's work. We'll fix our meal, and get moving. That mast will take most of the day, and I'm grateful most of my men are like monkeys. We'll head north, Agent Dunne, and get you where you need to be."
Finn hesitated. "We can't head north, not directly," he said. "A few of these men must return to Fort Zachary Taylor. Someone must be there to warn the people of Key West, and to see that they're armed against those inflicted with the disease. I believe we've got the majority of the poor souls, but we don't know how the infection came about."
"Ah, that's a grave situation, Agent Dunne," Tremblay said. "The men at the fort will not take kindly to the citizens with their Southern sympathies being heavily armed."
"If you describe the situation-you and Lafferty, Captain-the people will believe you," Finn said.
Tara spoke up. "The people on the island are not going to rise up and kill the soldiers. Perhaps once..." she said, her voice trailing away. "Sir, you can't let this infection get to Key West."
Tremblay rubbed his cheek and looked at Finn. "Aye, it will but cost us another day."
"A meal-and on to the ship," Finn said.
He took Tara's arm, leading her over to the fire. There was oatmeal; she was touched to see that the men had prepared hers with care, dexterously making sure no bugs had come to rest in the portion being offered her. She drank coffee, talking with Billy. The captain had announced to the men that they had to go back to Key West and Billy was relieved. "I've so many friends there. They are completely unprepared."
Tara thought about Seminole Pete. "Seminole Pete will know if there's a strange shift in the wind-the arrival of something that isn't quite human."
"How will he know-until after half the island is consumed?" Billy asked.
Tara shook her head. "He just knows things. There is no explanation."
She saw that Finn was beckoning to her. "I believe I'm with the crew to head back to the ship first," she told Billy.
"You should not be," he muttered, looking at Finn.
"Don't worry, Billy," she told him. "I grew up with Seminole Pete, remember? Some of his instincts rubbed off on me!"
She left the young sailor looking after her, and hurried to catch up with Finn, Richard, Lafferty, Grissom and London. They headed to the ship, where it was much easier to board, as they had left the ladder down last night. They repeated the efforts they had gone through the morning before, and after a thorough search of the ship, they found no bodies-alive, dead or in between.
From the deck, Finn shot off a flare, letting the others know that they could begin the laborious duty of returning their goods to the ship and breaking down the camp. The remaining longboats began their journey out beyond the reefs to the ship at anchor, and pulleys and winches were set and the boarding began. Billy seemed pleased as he came aboard, having collected a large supply of coconuts. He grinned and told her, "Since I came to Florida, I discovered the sweet meat of the coconut. Delicious. And add some of the milk with lime to your portion of rum, and it's quite a treat."
Lafferty, hauling the coconuts up, laughed. "Ah, well, our pretty girlie drink for our young lady, Billy Seabold. A man takes his rum as he takes his rum," he said.
"Well, the lime does a lot to stop the scurvy," Dr. MacKay said. "It's just a seaman's rum punch with a bit of greater sweetness. I'll be happy to try one, Billy."
As the day went on, Tara discovered that she could be the greatest help by shimmying up the mast with London, who was the ship's carpenter. London was adept with wood and nails, and she was quite comfortable with heights. In a matter of hours, he'd repaired the masts enough to set sail if the steam failed them, though London had also repaired the steam engine before they'd even begun their work on the sails and masts.
The work went on throughout the day. And finally, just as the sun lowered in the sky, the crew let out a cry of pleasure and triumph; they were ready to weigh anchor. The night had picked up a steady breeze, and Tremblay decided to combine his sail and his steam power; it would take them a night to return to Key West. There, they would likely be assigned another ship, as this one needed yet greater repairs.
As they left the island behind, Tara stood at the bow, watching. She felt Finn's presence as he came up to stand beside her. For several long moments, they stood in silence.
"I never thought that everything I felt and knew about my own life could change in a matter of days on an island," she said at last.
He was quiet.
She turned to look at him. "And despite the fact that I've basically been slaying real dragons with you, Agent Dunne, you're going to take me back to Washington. I'm still under arrest, and I'll go to trial. Richard, as well."
He didn't answer right away. She was surprised when he did. "How do we even really know what's in the heart or mind of someone else? There are many out there who believe that killing Abraham Lincoln would make them a hero. There are Northern widows, fatherless children and others who despise him. He has political opponents who believe we should have let the South go. But," he said, turning to stare at her, "I must say that over the past few days I've come to believe that neither you nor Richard would kill a man in cold blood. But the point is, somewhere in your mind, you must know something, Richard must know something. You're both Southern patriots-haven't you heard anything?"
"I don't know anything about this Gator," she said.
"We have a man who was arrested at the capital. He was lurking around the White House, and when a soldier called to him, he ran. Once captured, he was found to have a correspondence from Gator, who meant to get arms to the north of the state of Florida, and then travel on to the North to gain access to weapons. Sic simper tyrannis-'thus always to tyrants.' The threat to the president is clear, and since the one man was captured essentially watching the president for his schedule and habits, it's taken as a very real threat." He hesitated. "Blockade runners don't often run with arms- Richard's ship was armed."
There was no argument for that. "Richard is not an assassin," she said. "And I am not, either. And most of the blockade runners out of our area have been captured-and many have been killed. I honestly don't know who this person might be."
"They were definitely coming out of Key West," he said.
Tara leaned over the hull and felt the wind blowing through her hair. She turned and looked at him. "Have you ever considered the possibility that it's not a Rebel or a Confederate sympathizer that wants to kill Lincoln? We were on that island together-I know that even given a certain amount of freedom, you were watching Richard and me all the while. Whatever happened on that island was perpetuated by someone else."
"We both know that the island was attacked by a vampire, yes," he said.
"And maybe your Gator is a vampire. You had no trouble suspecting me. And, as you said, we both know what I am."
He was quiet. He turned away, leaning against the rail. "It might have been the old monster, the one who nearly killed you. Yes, I gave that some thought."
"Then, in your heart, you know that we're not guilty."
"I still have to take you to D.C.," he said quietly.
She let out a breath of frustration, and she was surprised when he caught her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. "Don't you see? Blockaders caught ultimately go to a prisoner-of-war camp. Usually, they are not dealt with harshly, Tara."
"What do you know about the prisoner-of-war camps?" she asked him.
"They're better in the North than in the South. When a government can't feed its troops, it can't feed its prisoners, and the North still has a solid supply mechanism in place. But here's what you don't understand-Richard fired on us. He brought down a federal ship. The punishment could be...well, much worse. He's not a soldier, is he?"
"No," she said.
He was still holding her, staring down into her eyes with a dark gaze that caused her to tremble. He wasn't flush against her body, but he might as well have been. She could feel the tension and pulse within him so strongly that she simply longed to fall against him, and take whatever time they had. Of course, he would push her away, and so she made no move.
"When we reach the fort, they'll want to charge Richard-he fired on and sank a Union ship. The men on this ship will fight for him, I have no doubt. On land, he was armed and fought a mutual enemy, and didn't try to escape. I'm sure he'd never attempt an escape when you were still with us, but that's something we don't need to say. You will be held at the fort, however, until we set sail again."
She nodded. "Richard does not deserve harsh punishment!"
"A prisoner-of-war camp is where every blockade runner goes when captured. First he'll be questioned, so that will take some time. And by then, God help us, the war may be over."
"Ahem!"
They both turned, unaware that they had been watched for the past several minutes. A number of the crew members were there, including Captain Tremblay, Richard, Billy, Lafferty and London.
"Miss Fox! We've your cabin ready for you!" Captain Tremblay said.
"My cabin?"
"Come along, my dear," the captain said. He stepped forward and took her by the arm. Finn shrugged, grinning, as curious as she.
She was surprised when she was escorted to the captain's quarters on the main deck. The men had cleaned it, found fresh linens and set it up with fresh water at the washstand, a number of books on the side table and a vase of flowers.
She looked at Captain Tremblay and then around at the others. "This is lovely, so lovely, and I'm so appreciative, but I can't take this from you, Captain Tremblay."
"I insist," he told her. "I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you, my dear. This is where I'd like you to be. Please, grant an old man a simple request and accept this hospitality."
Finn stood back, behind the others, a subtle smile still curling his lips.
"Well, then, I...I thank you!" she said.
Captain Tremblay's smile faltered. "We will fight for you-and Mr. Anderson-when we reach the fort. But I cannot promise you will have such acceptable accommodations there."
She lowered her head, nodding.
She wasn't worried for herself; she was worried for Richard.
Even if they hanged her, she would survive. Richard wouldn't.
"I accept this hospitality, sir, with my greatest thanks." She went to each of the men, kissing them on the cheeks and thanking them.
And then, one by one, they left, Richard and Finn hovering at the end.
"Some comfort for a night," Richard said, giving her a hug. She looked past him to Finn, who was still silent, and then looked at Richard.
"Where will you be?" she asked him huskily.
"When not on guard tonight? I will sleep like a lamb in one of the bunk cots below. Good night, my dear sister," he told her.
He started to leave; she drew him back.
"Richard-"
"I'm not afraid of tomorrow, Tara," he said. "I have known the risks throughout the war. I am not guilty of any conspiracy, and I am certain that will be proven. My dear, General Mosby was incarcerated at Old Capitol, where we will no doubt wind up. If men such as Mosby were held there, it is an apt place for me to be."
Tara was startled when Richard walked toward Finn. And to her amazement, the two men embraced briefly, as friends.
Richard turned and grinned at her, and continued out.
"You didn't know about this?" she asked Finn.
"No. The men did it all on their own," he said.
"It's all quite lovely. But where will Captain Tremblay sleep?"
"He'll take one of the officer's quarters below."
She turned and looked around at the handsomely appointed cabin. There was no sign that a man had been killed here recently.
"I'm still not sure I will rest so well," she said softly.
"There's more to come," he told her.
"What do you mean?"
"You explained it yourself. There is still someone out there. We won a battle on the island, then we came to the ship and removed the...dead. But there's still no explanation for how this all came about. You'll need to rest now. I have a feeling that this cloud will be following us."
"We killed so many," she murmured.
"Ah, yes. But in my experience, such commanders send in their minions to be exterminated while they watch and wait for the optimal moment to carry out the true mission. What frightens me most is the possibility that the monster is among us. Someone so old and experienced that he wears a coat of humanity with incredible ease. One would never think of you as a half-breed, except that I learned what you could do. So far, this person is acting the role of humanity so well that not even I can recognize him."
"Or," she suggested, "someone has been following us."
"Yes, or someone has been following us."
They stood an arm's length from one another. Tara again felt the almost overwhelming desire to walk to him, to touch him at last, explore the contours of his face and feel the vitality of his body next to hers.
She stood still, instead.
"For tonight," he told her, "rest."
She nodded, but before Finn could leave, there was a tap at the door. Billy Seabold was there. "Come along! Come along. We've fashioned something of a sumptuous meal. Lafferty is on the harmonica and we're celebrating!"
"What are we celebrating?" Tara asked him.
"Why, life-and a return to civilization!" Billy said. "Miss Fox, if I may?"
Tara accepted his arm. On deck, she found that Lafferty was indeed on his mouthbox, and Billy had created his concoction of rum and coconut and lime. Even those who had mocked his feminine drink were imbibing it. London and Grissom were dancing together, London wearing a mop top and pretending to be Grissom's lady.
"Perhaps a real lady will dance with me?" Billy suggested.
"My pleasure!" Tara assured him.
And so she started out with Billy. As she accepted his hand, Tara noted that there were two men up in the crow's nest, keeping watch. The crew might be celebrating, but they were not fools. Captain Tremblay stood at the bow, watching over the water and the night.
Tara danced, accepted one of Billy's drinks and the fish and beans they had prepared for dinner. She danced again with Richard, and then, at the end, with Finn. As she moved in his arms, she felt the way that his eyes touched her, and she wondered how she had ever thought him austere and hard, but then, she knew that was what he must be for his position.
They didn't talk. They looked at each other, and she felt his hands, and she longed for more.
But eventually, the celebration came to an end, the mess cleaned up and guard duty doled out.
Finn escorted her back to the captain's quarters.
"Sleep," he told her.
She grinned, looking away. "You know that I really rest best by day."
"Of course. I'm equally aware that you've learned to adjust to those around you, and take rest where you can."
"What about you?"
"I'm on guard duty first. I will sleep later."
He hesitated. His head was close to hers. She thought that his lips would touch her mouth.
He lingered there for just a moment.
And then he stepped back. "Good night, Miss Fox."