Bride of the Night (26 page)

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.

 

F
INN 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 shoul
der 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.”

T
ARA 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 Al
exandra, 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 un
derstand. 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.