Bride of the Night (Vampire Hunters #3)

Bride of the Night (Vampire Hunters #3) Page 18

"STOP! STOP NOW!" Finn roared, leaping atop a barrel and shouting down at the men who were desperately fighting one another for their lives. He cried out, using the power within him to create a megaphone of his voice, a sound so loud that it shuddered with the breeze and seemed to bring with it a sudden warm wind.

"Now!" he thundered.

As fierce as the noise on deck had been, the sudden silence that followed his shout was just as menacing. While swords ceased to clash, the men looked up at him, suspicion and fear still clouding their eyes, their grips still taut on their weapons.

"You've become madmen!" he said. "You're lashing out with no knowledge of what you're doing. Where did this start? Damn you, men, speak up! When did it start?"

Grissom cleared his throat and nervously moved forward. "Down below, Agent Dunne. All I know is that Richard Anderson was suddenly upon me and I shoved him off, and London moved in on me-"

"Because you were attacking Richard Anderson!" London said, stepping out of the group.

"I wasn't attacking him-I was warding him off!" Grissom returned angrily.

"Who was below?" Finn demanded.

"Everyone rushed down when the fighting started-"

"No! Who was there when it started?" Finn demanded.

Grissom spoke up. "It was me and London, Richard Anderson, Billy, the Doc and Lafferty."

"Where are the others?" Finn demanded. "Step forward, men!"

"I'm here, sir," Charles Lafferty said, moving around his latest combatant.

"Where are the captain, the doctor and Billy Seabold?" Finn demanded.

No one spoke; everyone looked around.

"I think I saw the captain. He was wounded," Lafferty said.

Wounded, and now not to be seen. Richard was in the cabin with Tara...?.

"Stop your fighting. It's not a man among you," Finn shouted, thrusting his way through them to reach her quarters.

He didn't knock, or call out; he threw the door open.

And there he saw the missing men-and Tara.

The captain was lying on the bed, bleeding. MacKay was at his side, holding a cloth to the captain's chest, staring across the cabin with stricken eyes.

Richard still lay trussed on the floor.

And Billy Seabold. No longer looking like a fresh, young seaman.

He had Tara. He had his hands on her, and there was now no missing the fact of his nature. His form had changed entirely, as if he had cast off a costume. He was larger, his muscles far more heavily honed. And his features had shifted, too. His face was narrower.

Cruel.

And he had long, long fangs, and they dripped the saliva of expectation over Tara's neck.

He had to know what she was! He had to know that he would sicken if he drank the blood of another vampire, even a half-breed.

But he had to be old, old and powerful, to wear such a complete disguise, day after day. Maybe he had lived so long that such rules no longer applied to him.

Maybe he didn't care.

Maybe he just meant to rip her throat to shreds.

"Billy Seabold," Finn began, thinking and playing for time.

Billy smiled, except that it wasn't a smile, not when his fangs were so grossly visible. It was a terrible grimace of amusement, power and cruelty.

Tara's eyes met Finn's. She didn't appear to be afraid, and yet, he could see she trembled slightly in the monster's grasp.

"Agent Dunne! Ah, yes, Agent Dunne, the great detective. What a race you have run, eh? Convinced that you must be looking for a Southern spy, a mad patriot to the Southern cause! It's been so much fun watching you. Fun, actually, since I joined the Union Navy, and hunted here and there, planting my newly made comrades where they could best serve. Some of them were quite happy, you know-they enjoyed their newfound power. And, of course, I did find a few old friends to join me along the way."

"A few old friends," Finn said. "Very old friends, I'm assuming. I believe we met a few of them on the island when the ships were destroyed? Before going to Key West?"

Billy laughed, never moving an inch from Tara. His fingers moved over her neck as he held her hard against him. His mouth remained close to the alabaster flesh, and Finn could see where her pulse pounded against a pale blue vein.

"I believe old Cutthroat Bennigan was among them, yes. Old pirate friend of mine from days long gone by. Met him years ago, off the coast of Bermuda."

Finn shook his head, as if bewildered. "So, where did you really come from, Seabold?"

"I was born in the midst of Revolution, my friend. Born as I am now. Born at a time where the founding fathers were putting together a country, and now, the Northern autocrats would dictate the freedoms we died for then. So, while I do enjoy ripping a human to shreds once in a while and feasting on blood, it's the cause that sends me on this mission. And, Agent Dunne, you will not stop me!"

Billy lifted his head; he looked like a cobra about to strike.

Finn used all of his strength in his movement. Tara was ready to fight. And yet, even with her formidable strength and him flying to the rescue like a speeding bullet, they might not have moved quickly enough to save her.

It was Richard who suddenly kicked out with his still-bound legs. Richard who, with his infected power, had more impetus and speed than ever. He managed to lash his legs against Billy Seabold's, and as he did, Tara swung around with an elbow, catching Billy Seabold in the soft flesh beneath his ribs. Finn was immediately before him, gripping him by the neck, avoiding the lash of his fangs and lifting him with all his power. Throwing him headfirst into a wall.

Now a distance from Tara, Billy rose, a horrible hissing sound of rage issuing from his lips. He kicked Richard where he lay on the floor, and Finn was sure that he heard a rib crack.

Richard cried out.

Tara dived for a sword.

Finn drew his weapon and advanced on Billy.

But the vampire saw that his cause here was lost.

He reached for a decanter on the desk, threw it and cried out, "Death to you all, death to tyrants! You will not stop me!"

And then he was gone.

Finn knew that he hadn't vanished. But his speed had been such that he had seemed to disappear into thin air, and now he couldn't be seen. Billy Seabold had lost the ship, and he knew it. He had tried to get the majority of the men to kill one another, likely hoping to change just enough to sail the ship straight into a destination where he could tear apart the country. But he hadn't succeeded. Alone, and with his battle among the others lost, he had to abandon the ship.

Finn raced out on deck, but the vampire was nowhere to be seen. Men were now helping those they had battled just moments before; Charles Lafferty had taken the helm, and the Freedom was on her way again, heading for the naval yards of D.C.

"Agent Dunne!" Lafferty roared to him, a question in his voice.

"It's over, Charles. Keep your heading steady!" Finn called back.

He turned, quickly heading back into the cabin. Tara was on her knees by Richard. MacKay, a little unsteady, had risen. "I need my doctor's field kit. The captain is breathing and his pulse is steady, and already, the wound seems to be healing. But I'll stitch him up."

"No need," Finn told him. "Not if you believe he's healing already." He hesitated because MacKay was looking at him in surprise. "The captain has Tara's blood now. He will heal."

Finn came over and hunkered down by Tara. "I have to go," he told her. "Billy Seabold is off the ship and headed to Washington."

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. "Richard! Richard needs blood," she said.

He set a hand on her shoulder. "Dr. MacKay can do a transfusion. We know that Richard will do well-even infected, he wouldn't kill you. You stay with him. I'll see you in Washington."

"No. You need me. You can't go without me," Tara said. Her eyes were brilliant, burning red-gold, and her chin was set stubbornly.

"Tara, you'll have to stay here if you want to save Richard. And I should face Gator on my own. I'll need to move quickly."

Tears sprang into her eyes. "He's older and more powerful than you, Finn. You can't go alone. You can't!"

"He doesn't need to go alone."

The voice startled him and Tara, as well. Finn swung around.

Captain Tremblay was already sitting up. He patted his chest, and then moved the bandages that had been pressed against it. Barely a scratch seemed to remain. He looked down on his wounds incredulously and then looked at them again, smiling. "I have your blood in my veins, Tara Fox. And I imagine the wonderful healing power in yours has now taken root in mine. I can help to save your Richard, with the assistance of the good doctor here."

Tara stood, facing Richard. "I must go with you, Finn. Surely, you can see that. He is powerful. You need me."

He walked over to where she stood by Richard, who lay with his eyes closed, scarcely breathing. "He needs you," he told her softly, pulling her to her feet. "And I need you to stay with the ship, because if I fail, you will be all that's left to stop him when he reaches the capital. Tara, I'm going to take one route, and you're going to stay with the ship. When I reach land, I'll put the call out for help. But we know exactly where he's going. I believe that he'll reach land, find himself some other conveyance and head straight back to the shipyards. You must stay with the Freedom, and be ready in case...in case he gets to me first. Tara, before God, I wish that we could do this together, but we can't."

She stared back at him, and he knew that she was searching his eyes to discover the truth of his words.

"Please," he added softly. "Time is everything now. I could meet up with him, slow him down and still survive to fight with you in the capital. Or we could come upon him together, and both be killed, and there would be no hope."

She nodded slowly, but the look in her eyes showed him that she felt she was losing her soul. He didn't know if he could tear himself away, watching her.

He had to.

He pulled her to him, heedless of anyone around him, and he dared take a moment to hold her close, and kiss her lips, and savor the touch and scent of her, beautiful memories to warm his flesh in the frigid waters that awaited him, thoughts to remember that he had everything to live for.

They kissed, and kissed, and he felt her arms and her lips and the heat of her body.

And then he pulled away, his hands still holding hers. "Captain Tremblay, make all haste to the Washington Naval Yard."

He dropped her hands and hurried out on deck. He judged the distance from sea to land and plunged into the water. The Atlantic seemed unaware that spring was approaching; the sea was bitterly cold.

TARA WAS IN AGONY.

While Tremblay insisted that he could afford the blood to save Richard, she could not allow it. The captain had healed remarkably, but he still didn't have the strength that was hers, nor had he been born with the blood that could save. She fought him tooth and nail and with complete logic, assuring him that he was the only one who could bring them to their destination with all speed.

And so, she lay quietly while Dr. MacKay gingerly performed the operation with needles and tubes that would send her blood through Richard's veins, and save his life. When it was over, she was weak, and she rested on the cot, just thinking about Finn, and still reeling at the fact that Billy Seabold, who had seemed so young, earnest and normal, could have proven to be such a monster.

She could hear the commotion on deck, and she knew that Tremblay was busy sailing with Charles Lafferty as his right hand, and that Dr. MacKay was busy patching up the men who had been injured.

She heard the sad sound of Lafferty's harmonica after the captain's words over those who hadn't been saved, but had to be sent to watery graves, heads separated from their bodies, just in case.

Then the precious darkness of sleep overcame her.

She dreamed again that night of the president. He had been sleeping, just as she had been. He was in a long nightdress, and he lay next to his Mary, who was resting at his side. Seeing her, the president rose, and walked to meet her at the foot of the bed. "Let's go to the hallway, shall we? Sleep is essential to Mary. It is the only time that she doesn't grieve."

They stepped into the hallway.

"We're almost here, sir," she told him. "Finn has left us, because he is in pursuit of Gator, and you can't imagine what that one man can do. He is extremely powerful. He can turn the city into a sea of traitorous monsters, heedless for their own lives. Finn believes he will reach land and find another ship, and he will make it into the naval yard and, from there, descend upon the men by stealth, picking them off and making them his followers, one by one. I am still with Captain Tremblay, and we are racing here, as well."

The president set his hand on her hair gently. "As the war dies down, the capital is now, at last, very well defended."

"No, sir, you must understand. This one man can infect hundreds, and quickly."

"I've been aware, my dear, and I know those who have fought such wretched disease and insanity before. They will be there to help you." He smiled. "I know your sister and your brother, and they have both done their share, along with others, in this war." Like a father, he pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. "We'll be ready."

She stared at him, still so afraid. But he smiled. "It's the country that must be saved, Tara. No man is greater than the country."

He began to fade, and she awoke with a start.

She discovered that Richard was sitting by her side. She almost jumped away, but he winced quickly, seeing her expression. "It's over, Tara. I am me. You saved me."

She eased back, allowing herself a little smile. "You were well worth saving, Mr. Richard Anderson. Under the worst of circumstances, you fought the killer instinct. And you actually managed to save the day, you know."

He was pleased with the compliment. "We all need one another in this world, I think." He rose to answer a knock at the door. It was Dr. MacKay, and he carried a tray. There was a delightful scent of something cooked over their brazier, dried beef freshened with salt and pepper in boiling water, hardtack coconut meat and a small tankard that she was pretty sure was filled with blood.

"How's our patient?" he asked.

"Strong and rested," she assured him.

"Good. The captain says we'll make the naval yard by tomorrow dusk. You'll need to be rested," he said, and leaving the tray, he went out to attend to his other patients.

Richard followed him, but paused at the door. He looked back at her and smiled. "You know, Miss Fox, we all do need one another in this world. And it's rare when a man or woman finds that perfect person. There's no one in government of society who can stop them from being together. So, my darling friend, sister, I'm telling you this as one who loves you deeply-stop being a stubborn fool and stop being afraid that you may love someone more than a person loves you. For God's sake, Tara, marry that man!" he said.

"He hasn't asked me," she told him.

Richard grinned. "Then ask him!"

She felt a strange trembling seize her and she was surprised when she spoke with quivering lips. "Richard, we may not survive that long."

"All the more reason, Tara," he said seriously, "that if you do, you be honest with yourself, and with him, and seize the happiness you are both surely due."

With that, he left the cabin.

FINN MADE LAND IN Northern Virginia. Exhausted, he lay on the ground, breathing, gathering his strength again. He closed his eyes, and the thunder of his breath was so loud, and he was so exhausted, that he didn't hear the approaching men.

When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by soldiers.

Union men, he saw with gratitude.

Someone poked him with the business end of a rifle. "Get up, man! Identify yourself!"

"Phineas Dunne," he said, "Pinkerton agent. It's imperative that I reach the capital as quickly as possible." He tried to get to his feet, but he staggered. A man reached out to help him.

"We'll get you to the general," he was told. "Have you credentials?"

"Who is the general in charge here?" he asked.

"Ulysses S. Grant, and he'll know the truth of you, that's for sure. And if you're lying, and you're a Reb spy, you'll hang, sir! General Grant shows pity on fighting men, but spies...spies hang from the neck until dead!"

"Just get me to him. Speed is of the essence now. By God, speed is everything!"

Finn chafed at any time spent away from his pursuit, but the swim across miles of ocean had cost him dearly. Nor did he wish to cause harm to these officers. He allowed himself to be escorted and seated atop one on the soldier's mounts, again chafing at the time it took to reach the federal encampment. There was more time when lesser officers argued his position, and then finally agreed that Grant must have the final say. By the time he was ushered into the field tent where the general sat with maps, a bottle of whiskey and a cigar before him, he'd been given dry clothing, and he was feeling the return of warmth and power to his muscles.

"Dunne!"

Finn was surprised when Grant recognized him immediately. They had only met briefly, and that before the general had been sent to the Western campaign, years before. Grant actually rose, and reached for his hand. "A glass, man, bring a glass," he ordered his aide. "This man is in sound need of a drink!"

Yes, a small portion of blood would be nice right now, Finn thought.

But he accepted a whiskey instead.

"I must make Washington, D.C., with all haste, general," Finn said. "There is a spy about to land in the area, and I believe he will have killed somewhere along the coast to acquire a ship for access into the capital. I need to send a special warning to the president, and to certain men in the capital who have dealt with such a man and his life before. Can you get a telegraph out for me?"

"Indeed, I can, and if this matter be so grave, I can send men with you," the general replied.

"I must find this man myself, sir, and the problem is that he spreads a disease. It is better to trust no man than take a chance trusting one who has been infected. I need a conveyance into the capital-the quickest route possible."

Grant nodded, still watching him.

"General, the president's life lies in the balance."

Grant stood. "I will see that you are accompanied to Lieutenant Dickson, who will get your telegraph out. And I will help you with whatever provisions and God's speed that I am able to supply."

"Thank you," Finn told him.

Grant nodded. "If you get to the president, let him know this personally from me. I have General Lee all but pinned down here." He pointed to the map. "He is low on men, and the land is all but stripped. He is feeling the noose of the blockades and knows that there is nothing more than what he has. If Lee will surrender, the South will be broken. God help me, I fear that I will sacrifice thousands more men, but we will corner Lee, here in Virginia. A good man, a brilliant commander, one who might well have stopped the war years ago, had he only agreed when Lincoln asked him to head the Union army." He lifted his glass. "To my enemy. May he survive, and may we end this quickly, while American men-of all states-still live."

Finn lifted his glass in turn, feeling Grant's determination, and his sorrow.

DUSK FELL AND THE USS Freedom made its way through the waterways, halted time and again by the guards of the defense system that surrounded the capital.

Tara was on deck when they at last made port, and she eagerly examined the yard and those who were working there. It had taken them nearly two full days to arrive, and she was heartily afraid that danger and death might well have arrived before them. But, there was a bustle about everywhere, and it seemed that the men were fine. Even at dusk, men were working in the shipyard, and the guard that greeted them as they debarked was fierce.

Captain Tremblay immediately wanted to know if there had been any disturbance in the area; they were assured that there had not been.

Lieutenant John Dahlgren, in charge of the yard, was absent, overseeing the launch of a new ship, but a Captain Myers was at the officers' building, a beautiful residence with terraces and built-in brick, cleanly painted and welcoming, and had insisted they report there.

Beneath the glow of a bright new moon and the many lamps that burned around the busy area, the yard presented a strange spectacle of peace; across the river Tara could see sloping fields and farms, all restful as night fell. Following Captain Tremblay, with Richard and Dr. MacKay at her side, she hurried toward the officers' building.

Many soldiers and sailors were housed there as the war progressed. Tara kept a sharp eye on the men they passed as they were escorted in and led to an office on the second floor. They entered alone, and soon after, Captain Myers came into the room, ready to greet them.

Myers was a young man, perhaps in his late twenties at best. He greeted them with a salute, and while he asked them to sit, Captain Tremblay remained standing. "Sir! It's imperative that we know of any ships that might have made port in the past forty-eight hours, and of any disturbance, no matter how small, that might have occurred in that time," Tremblay told him. "We have immediate knowledge of an especially heinous and...diseased spy who was attempting to arrive and, from here, attack the president of the United States!"

"Captain Tremblay, please, sir, take a seat. We've had no such arrivals, nor have we endured the least disturbance. I can see to it that you and your crew are housed for the night, and that your ship is refurbished, and then send you on your way again." He stared pointedly at Tara. "Miss...what would your function be on this journey?"

"I know the spy," she said. "I can point him out to you."

He lowered his head, his lips curving into a half smile. "Miss, trust me, at this point of the war, we have dealt with many spies. Indeed, one of the finest ladies in Washington society, Mrs. Rose Greenhow, was caught for her espionage for the Southern front. She abided for a while in prison, and was sent south. I hear that the woman died, drowned, after attempting to procure foreign assistance for the Rebels. You see, we have learned, and we will prevail."

Tara stood, placing her hands on the desk. "Lieutenant, this is a spy like no other. The men from this ship and I need to mingle with the officers, enlisted men and shipbuilders here. This man, called Gator by many-a known figure wanted by the Pinkerton agency-is talented beyond all expectations. We are also expecting a Pinkerton agent to have arrived here in pursuit of this spy."

"Dunne isn't with you?" Lieutenant Myers asked.

He knew about Finn. There was only one way.

Tara gave a hard look at the man's eyes. And she saw the little rim of red around the irises.

Myers realized that she recognized him for what he was-diseased.

He let out a hissing sound, curling his lips back as he pounced from behind his desk. He leaped toward her, but he was no Billy Seabold. Captain Tremblay pushed back, drawing his naval sword, but Tara didn't need his assistance to ward off the man. She caught him by the neck as he struggled to reach her. Captain Tremblay skewered him through the back, and straight through to the front, but not before the man managed to choke out a loud cry.

As Tremblay retrieved his sword from the body and Tara threw the man down, they heard the pounding of footsteps in the hall, men answering the cry of alarm from their commander. "His head, his head, be thorough!" Tara cried, wrenching Myers's sword from its hilt. Tremblay decapitated the man with a now-practiced swing.

"Lord, they'll think us murderers!" Dr. MacKay said.

"He's here-Billy Seabold is here," Tara answered him. "We've got to defend ourselves. And try not to kill the innocent."

"He might already be headed to the White House," Richard warned.

There was a thunderous pounding at the door. Tara hurried to it and threw it open. "He's diseased! The lieutenant was diseased. There are others out there now who will try to kill you, as well," she quickly told the five men-weapons posed-staring at her. "Help us. Before God, you've got to help us."

"Murder!" one of the men cried. "Take them!"

Richard grabbed Tara. "Get out of here while you can. They'll imprison the rest of us-you go!"

"They'll kill you!" she argued.

One had raised a rifle. She flew at him, grabbing the rifle and twisting the rod. He stared at her, backing away in dismay and fear. She spun around, taking hard swings at two others. Captain Tremblay stole a paperweight from the captain's desk and smashed it against the head of the fourth man while Richard gave the last a right to the jaw. They could hear footsteps on the stairs and all around them.

"Let's go!" Tara cried.

She ran toward the stairs and met the men racing up them. "Out the window! The attacker leaped out the window!" she cried, and the troop of men went racing down the stairs.

They followed.

But when they reached the serenity of the terrace, they were suddenly met by another, larger group of men. Tara paused, and those who had come down the stairs shouted that they were looking for an attacker that had gone out the window.

The group didn't move.

"What's the matter with you men?" a lieutenant demanded of the stilled men. "We've an assassin among us!"

The men opposite stood dead still, staring. And then, a hissing sound. Those in the front began to bare their fangs and move forward with deadly intent.

"Their heads! Go for their heads, men!" Captain Tremblay shouted.

Tara found herself in the midst of a melee, men coming after her, one after another, as if they knew she was the enemy to beat. She fought them off, aware of the tremendous numbers against her. Even as others tried to step in to come to her aid, they were batted off, stabbed, attacked and left behind.

And as she fought, trying and then failing to keep Captain Tremblay, Richard and Dr. MacKay in view, she realized that she was being herded back toward a smaller house that stood behind the officers' building.

She had no choice; she kept backing away, defending herself, slipping away with all speed only to discover that at least ten of the men knew her moves, and that they would be in front of her again. She killed one, two, three...and still, they kept coming. She was forced up the steps to the house, and the door opened, and she was forced in...?.

And suddenly, the men were gone.

She turned, and saw Billy Seabold, now wearing a Union brigadier general's uniform. He smiled at her from the bottom of the house's staircase.

"Welcome, Tara Fox!" he said. He approached her, and she realized again what a magnificent disguise he had managed as a lowly seaman, disguising his much taller, older and stronger self.

He smiled. "I have command of the naval yard. Come on in. I have a lovely cognac here, and it's been blended with the most delicious mixture of blood!"

"Human blood?" she asked. "I think not."

"Oh, come, come. You're going to die, which is such a shame-you're truly such a beautiful creature! But...alas, I don't think I can bend you to my way of thinking, and thus, my dear, no matter what you were to say, you'd always be a danger to me."

Tara followed him to the table. He didn't seem to be afraid of her behind him; he was barely aware of the bloodied sword she still carried. He knew that she couldn't leave by way of the front door; she would be forced back by the number of his creatures.

"What I want to know," she told him. "What I'd truly like to understand, is why?"

"Because I like the South!" he told her gleefully. "Lincoln must die, and our way of life in the South must be preserved. The hospitality, the grace, the horsemanship-"

"The harnessing of other human beings?" she demanded.

"Tara! You are a Southerner," he said with mock dismay.

"Yes, and I believe in preserving the hospitality, the beauty of the country, the horsemanship and the friendship. But we've been wrong, and I believe that this war is proving it. No man can own another man!"

He laughed. "Own another man? I say, own a huge food buffet!" he told her, laughing. "Oh, I enjoy blood of all varieties, but in the South... How many question the death of a slave?"

"The death of a human being!"

He slammed the decanter of fiery red liquid he had lifted back on the table.

"I have the power to make it happen. And I will. You're not going to drink with me? Really, you should have. It would have given you a bit of strength. A fighting chance..."

He smiled, and he started toward her.

FINN ARRIVED IN THE MIDST of chaos.

Men were battling men everywhere; it was much as it had been on the ship. He procured a horse near the rail line and rode into the melee of men bitterly battling other men with swords. He shouted out to the group of them. "The eyes, men, it's in the eyes! Look to the eyes for a hint of red, and don't kill those not infected!"

He was surprised when the clash of swords ceased, and then began again.

"Finn!" His name roared over the cacophony of battle.

Urging the horse forward, he found that Richard, bloodied from those he had fought but unhurt himself, was eager to meet him.

"Tara!" Richard cried. "We haven't been able to get to her! She's back that way. Go! He had her forced into his place, and, oh, God... Please go!"

Finn didn't wait for a second urging. He kneed the gelding he'd taken and rode the great horse through the crowds of fighting men. As he neared the smaller dwelling near the officers' building, they began to form against him in huge ranks. He brought his sword down again and again. The gelding reared high, but he held his seat, and he made use of the horse's fear, causing the animal's front hoofs to beat down some of the enemy before him. The men began to throw themselves at the horse, willing to die to stop him. He felt a sword rip through the back of his arm, and he winced, twisting quickly in the saddle to bring down the offender, and ruing the weakness the injury would cause. He kneed the gelding again, and kicked its ribs, silently apologizing to the animal as his kick sent the horse leaping forward.

He'd reached the porch, and he jumped from the horse and burst into the house, closing the door behind him and dropping the heavy wooden bar bolt, stopping the minions from entering. He heard a crash, and he rushed from the entry into the parlor.

He arrived just in time to see Tara flying through the air. She crashed against the wall near the fireplace, and sank to the floor. Billy Seabold strode toward her, aware that Finn had entered, though apparently not at all alarmed.

"Love! True love!" Billy Seabold said. "Or is it honor? Whichever, foolish emotions." He paused in his pursuit, turning to look at Finn. "What idiots," he said flatly. "You might have joined my ranks, and we might have lived as we were intended to live, the top of the food chain, rulers of the world. Well, pity, but you both shall die." He laughed. "And how strict and stern and uppity you were, Agent Dunne! A Pinkerton. How amusing!"

Finn moved slowly toward him, trying to keep his attention from Tara as she pushed herself up the wall and attempted to regain her feet.

"You can't live among men if you can't learn to live in peace, Seabold," he said.

"Peace? The humans are ripping one another up!"

"Because they believe differently on issues," Finn said. "But they don't seek to murder one another."

"But they do."

"When they want nothing but blood lust, the law catches up with them. North and South."

"I'm just helping them all along," Seabold said. "They want to kill one another? I'm taking the task on for them."

"There will be peace. Abraham Lincoln will live, and there will be peace."

"No, I think not," Billy Seabold said. He turned his attention back to Tara, walking toward her. She had lost her sword. As Seabold approached her, Tara suddenly hissed and showed her own fangs.

Seabold laughed. "Bite me, and I think you will die!"

"And you just might, too," she told him.

He reached out for her. Tara was like a cornered badger, fighting, ripping. Finn made his move, flying for Seabold. Seabold caught him-his hand shooting out, his fingers winding around Finn's throat. He was weakened from the slash on his arm, but he knew that he couldn't show the least frailty. Seabold thought that he had them both.

And he did. He had their throats.

But as he laughed, avoiding Tara's gnashing fangs, she twisted suddenly, and caught him in the arm.

And as she did so, Finn managed to lift his sword, and thrust it into their enemy's side.

Taken off guard, Billy Seabold dropped them both. Tara fell to the floor, but Finn was immediately ready when Seabold drew his sword. Finn placed his injured left arm behind his back, and began to fight for his life with his right.

They thrust and parried; Seabold bounced away, skimming off the wall to come at Finn from the back, but he turned in time and avoided the deadly thrust. He sought the weakness in the other man-sought the vampire's throat. He ducked one blow, and jumped over another when Seabold would have sliced his legs.

At last, with desperation and deadly aim, Finn got in a fortunate thrust. He pinned his enemy by the shoulder to the wall. Seabold looked at him with fury and amusement, laughing as he went to reach for the sword to remove it.

But even as Finn tried to figure his strategy-a way to maintain the lock on the monster before him and finish him with his wounded arm-Tara staggered up from the floor. She made her way toward them, her own bloodied sword in her hand, and she managed to thrust it into Seabold's gut before falling down again herself.

Finn withdrew his own sword, backed away, and swung.

Seabold's head fell to the floor while his body convulsed, pinned to the wooden paneling by Tara's weapon.

Finn stood still for a moment, shaking. He became aware of the pounding at the door, and then a crash of glass as Seabold's creatures broke through the windows. He forced himself to come to life, hunkering down by Tara and lifting her into his arms. As he wondered how he'd get her through the mindless horde outside, the world suddenly fell to silence.

Holding on to his neck, Tara whispered, "Where have they gone?"

He heard an explosion and realized that someone had shot their way through the front entry. With Tara dearly in his arms, he hurried to the hallway, ready to take any means of escape until he could lay her safely down to shake off the effects of Seabold's blood.

But there were no monsters in the hallway.

There were two men, and two women.

"Cody Fox," one said, stepping forward. "We were called here on a discreet matter through the executive office. "I believe that's my sister you have in your arms."

One of the women at his side stepped forward. "Megan Fox," she said. "This is my husband, Cole. And I'd like to introduce you to Cody's wife-Alexandra. I believe we have things under control now outside. We have some very good friends working with the post-battle cleanup. We've been asked to bring you to meet someone."

Finn heard a soft sob and looked down. Tara was just staring at the foursome who had joined them. Then she looked up at him with wonder. "I have family, Finn!"

He smiled. "So you do," he told her warmly.

"We're delighted to go with you," he said, smiling at the newcomers. "But I guess since you're Tara's brother, Cody Fox, I should get this out right now. I'm really quite in love with your sister. And, I must say, I've compromised her, or we've compromised one another. That being, I really do believe that you should give us your blessing to marry."

EPILOGUE

TARA SAT IN A STRAIGHT-BACK upholstered chair, across the desk from Abraham Lincoln. She was tempted to draw out a hat pin and prick herself; it was still difficult to believe that she was here, and he was here, and that they were facing each other, in the flesh.

But they were. The night when they had finally bested Gator, they had come to the White House. She discovered that her family had, indeed, been involved in the "war beneath the war," and that they were all acquainted. Finn had made the introductions, and Abraham Lincoln had taken her hands, met her eyes and said, "We've met, I believe, many a time, in a dream."

She hadn't been well. She'd needed rest. And they had all seen to it that she had gotten it, and it had been wonderful. Her sister-her sister-had assured her that Richard and Captain Tremblay and Dr. MacKay had all been found and were safely recovering from the minor wounds they had received, and she would have her audience with the president the next day.

She had been so well guarded, and so well loved!

And Finn had asked to marry her.

He wasn't around in the morning, though. It was Alexandra, Cody's wife, who brought her to her appointment, and then left her. And so, at last, she faced the real Abraham Lincoln, and they sat, a pot of tea between them. It was so good to see him, and see him alive and well, that she fought back tears.

"First, of course, I must thank you," he said. "I've heard you were highly instrumental in saving many lives. I'll not say Union lives-I pray daily that, soon, our great nation will begin the healing process, and those lives you saved, on the ship and in Key West, will be nothing lesser or greater than American lives."

"I see the world as you do, sir," she told him. "And yes, Mr. President, that's why your life is so important, and why, I believe, I have haunted your dreams. Even with the war dying down, sir, and with the latest deadly effort stopped, you must know that you still have enemies. God knows, men are good, North and South, and men are fanatics, North and South."

"Of course," he said. He rose, walked to the window and looked out on the city of Washington, beautiful as spring now intruded fully upon the winter. "We are born, we love, we see the world around us, and we find our place within it. We all know laughter and happiness, and tragedy. We are the same, really."

He turned and smiled at her. "I have given my second inaugural address, you know. And I believe those who watched and listened are as eager as I to see the healing begin."

"There will be those who cannot accept defeat," she told him.

He looked back at her. His face was grave. "I had the dream..." he said.

She nodded. "I know," she said softly. "You saw yourself walking through the rooms, and you heard the people sobbing. You saw the catafalque, and you wanted to know who had died, and they told you the president."

He walked back to the desk, but he didn't take his chair. He sat on the edge of the desk, close to her, and said quietly, "No one man can create a lasting peace. What must be understood is this-slavery cannot be. In my heart, I know that it's an abomination against God. But there will be a long road ahead to educate those who were slaves, and it will be a far longer road ahead for men ever to look upon one another as equals. States must still retain certain rights, because we are a nation of different areas, with different liabilities and different wonders. And despite the pain and the bloodshed and bitterness that have been, we must learn to forget. That can't be just one man, my dear. That is a mindset that we must create, and it must build and grow. Wounds take time to heal, and this country has been wounded to the core. It will take years for the lesions to heal. And yet, it's the people who must band together, like the blood in a man's body, the flesh upon him. Every man and woman is part of the great body. I know that you will go on, as others will go on. And your words and your actions will help that healing. That's what you must understand. I have known you in my mind, and I have seen you in my dreams. You've been like a guardian angel. But no matter what the future might bring, you must remember that you, and those like you, will be the heart and soul of the new nation."

"But, sir, you don't understand, truly you don't, just how important you are," Tara said.

He smiled. "I am important only if the words I have said can live on in the hearts of others. No man is greater than the nation. Please, remember that. Pray for the nation, Tara, and create a world wherein we can find peace."

They talked awhile longer, and when they had finished, she exited the White House to find that the sun was setting, and darkness was falling.

And her family and Richard, Captain Tremblay, Dr. MacKay and Finn were all waiting for her.

Finn stepped forward, and enfolded her into his arms.

"Come along, come along," Cody said. "It's getting late."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

She looked into Finn's eyes. She tried to remember when they had met; she'd never imagined then that he could look at anyone with such tenderness.

"You're about to become my bride of the night, Miss Fox. That is, if you're willing," Finn said. His voice was rich and husky and his eyes were a fire that promised a lifetime of both tempest and delight.

"Aye, I'm willing, my love," she told him.

And the darkness was descending, but she heard church bells ringing.

And the church was beautiful, hastily adorned with flowers by her newfound family.

Cody gave her away while the others stood witness, Richard acting as best man and Megan acting as her matron of honor. The words were all said, and she was married, and when they stepped into the street, Finn looked at her.

"For us, the healing has begun!" he said softly.

She kissed him, and the others applauded. They had found their own peace, and in it, the strength to fight for a new nation, and a new beginning.