Bride of the Night by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online

almost blank. He was shell-shocked, she knew, but she couldn’t stop him.
    â€œI have to see,” he said thickly. “You know I have to see…?. Someone could be…injured.”
    No. She wished that it was true, but no one could have survived that explosion.
    He thrust himself from her, heading for the steps below.
    Tara staggered back and grabbed the wildly jerking wheel, using all her strength to steady the ship, trying to keep her limping forward. But another volley followed, and another. It was all she could do, just to hold tight.
    Richard burst out from the deck below, his face covered in soot, his features twisted in a grim mask.
    He grabbed her by the shoulders, jerking her around to face him. “They’re dead…the men are dead, and we’re taking on water. Get out of here, now!”
    Past Richard, she could see that the enemy steamer was moving in on them.
    They stared at each other—Richard angry and impotent to get her away, Tara determined that she’d never leave him, not at any cost.
    Then thunder burst through the sky again, so loud that it was painful, and when the ship shuddered, it was as if they’d been hit by the hand of God.
    Perhaps they had been….
    Tara landed hard, stunned and breathless. For a moment, even she was completely disoriented, seeing only darkness. Then color and light returned to her world. She grasped a trunk and pulled herself to her feet. Looking around desperately for Richard, she saw that he was hanging over the portside of the ship.
    A wave crested over the ship. Water washed around her friend.
    And when the water was gone, Richard was gone.
    With a scream, Tara rushed to the rail, and saw his body being swallowed by the darkness of the ocean.
    She pitched herself over the rail to follow him.
    Â 
    â€œJ ESUS , M ARY AND J OSEPH !” Tremblay raged. “Who’s responsible? The last volley wasn’t on order!”
    Finn could have echoed his furious sentiments, but it would do no good. A gunner ran up to them, soot-faced and frantic.
    â€œCaptain! There was a spark that flew from the match…it caught the wick. We didn’t fire to destroy her!”
    â€œDestroyed or not, I need the men aboard that ship,” Finn said.
    Another filthy man ran up to the captain. “Sir, we’re taking on water—heavily. We’re working the pumps, bailing…?. She’s on a reef, sir. Cut by the coral as well as their return fire!”
    â€œLower the longboats!” Tremblay ordered in a booming voice.
    As the men hurried to do as told, Finn stared out at the Rebel runner.
    â€œWe’re sinking, Agent Dunne!” Tremblay told him.
    â€œI am aware, sir.”
    He stood his ground, staring at the enemy ship. The masts were shattered; she was listing badly to the landward side. Fire had broken out in her aft; he’d seen the explosion that had hit her there. The way that flames were leaping and burning, he assumed they’d hit her powder supply.
    Whatever cargo she carried would soon be lost.
    Anyone caught in the aft was dead; they had, at the least, died swiftly. The portside of the ship and her fore still stood in the night, though the fire would soon consume them, as well.
    He quickly reckoned the distance from the dying ship to the shore; a strong swimmer could make it. Theoretically, others—if not killed by the blast—might well still be aboard, dead or dying, or unconscious.
    Finn didn’t want to wait for the tenders; he stripped off his jacket and headed for the rail.
    â€œAgent Dunne!” Tremblay called. “Sir! The boats will be speedy—”
    â€œNot speedy enough.”
    Finn dove from the ship’s deck, hitting the water hard and pitching downward. The water was cold, a hard slap of ice against his flesh as he landed and thrust through its density. In the night, not even his eyesight was much against the depths, but he had little interestin what was