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he reached for the doorknob. "Let me just make certain, Jade Terese."
    Standing on the porch now, Jade acquiesced. Hamlet growled menacingly still and she knelt at his side, trying to comfort him. His body felt as stiff as a board and his fear became hers. She listened intently as the door opened and Monsieur Deubler stepped inside.
    Darkness permeated the front sitting room. He could see nothing. "The sitting room is so
    dark..."

    Above her dog's growl she heard Monsieur Deubler's boots move away from the door. A
    sudden unnatural thump sounded, a sucking of breath, another thump. Jade leaped up with alarm. "Monsieur Deubler!"
    With arms extended, she started toward the door, imagining her friend had stumbled over a table or chair in the darkness. Hamlet barked a warning, racing ahead into the house. Jade stumbled after him, feeling her way through the darkness, calling for Maydrian and Monsieur Deubler.
    She screamed as Hamlet's vicious growls sounded.
    A painful howl died as a whimper. Jade froze, terrified. A hand came over her mouth. Her muffled scream sounded as she was jerked backwards into the house. The door slammed shut. The
    man held her tight, forcing breath from her, and during the first few seconds, she felt too shocked to struggle. A pure animalistic terror claimed her and like a drowning person, her body convulsed in an effort to draw breath. The hand stayed over her mouth but loosened somewhat and she caught breath in gulps, fighting the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her.
    Then he grabbed a handful of hair, forced her head back, and she screamed again as he pressed a wet cloth to her face. A sickly taste saturated her mouth, nostrils and lungs, choking her. She squirmed desperately but then darkness—a darkness from within—spun around her and she felt herself sinking, sinking ...

    *****

Chapter 2

    Darkness spread across the river and the forests beyond as Victor Nolte, Sebastian and Murray, Victor's former ship surgeon, made their way back to Shady Faith, Victor's new manor house some five miles north of New Orleans. The night air felt mercifully cooler. A thousand stars laced a night sky, dimly illuminating the well-traveled road that followed the Mississippi up through New Orleans all the way to Baton Rouge and beyond. Huge gangly oaks lined the road.
    Thick moss draped the boughs and looked eerily like the black mourning crepe abandoned after a funeral. They occasionally passed a fishing hut or house, that was all. Above the soothing sound of rushing water and the steady trot of the horses, their laughter and loud exclamations disturbed the sanctity of the quiet night.
    A happy mood it was. The Fair Winds had met with astonishing success. Victor's ship had captured Don Bernardo's Black Crest just after the pirate ship had raided two American clippers and left over half of the crew dead. It had been a vicious fight but, slowed by the weight of its bulging holds, the Black Crest had been unable to outrun the Fair Winds. In the exchange of cannon fire, the Fair Winds suffered only minor damage, while the Black Crest would be dry- docked for months. Then Don Bernardo's remaining crew, outnumbered almost two to one, had been forced to endure the humiliation of transferring the ship's riches to the Fair Winds, a procedure they were used to watching, not enduring.
    With the Black Crest rendered defenseless and motionless, Don Bernardo's crew watched the Fair Winds sail out of view, sinking mysteriously into the horizon. Afterward, the Fair Winds met with another of Victor's ships, the Minerva, and the cargo was transferred again. The pirate would have no revenge. For no one knew who stood behind the Fair Winds or which port the graceful ship called home.
    The Black Crest was the fourth victim of the mysterious pirate's pirate, and within days, everyone in New Orleans would be asking the same question: Who is the pirate's pirate? Victor, his ships and crews were never suspect. In addition to his