Hidden Devotion (2 page)

“Chai?” Seb asked.

“Actually, I’m hungry.”

Juliette followed her friend out then took the lead. Moving away from the tourist areas surrounding the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque, she headed for a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, ordering two spiced-lamb flatbreads. A boy with thick black lashes brought them
lahmacun
and cans of Coke.

Juliette ripped hers in half then took a bite of the soft middle section. Her thoughts drifted back to Boston and her stomach clenched.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Sebastian asked.

She looked up to see his meal mostly gone, while she’d had only a few bites.

“My brother called.”

Sebastian froze, can halfway to his lips. “Harrison called? Why?”

Juliette pulled her scarf off, the fabric she’d wound around her neck and over her head suddenly suffocating.

“It seems my oh-so-proper brother made a mistake.”

“The Grand Master doesn’t make mistakes.” He said it the way one states a fact—the sun rises in the east, the sky is blue, the Grand Master of the Trinity Masters doesn’t make mistakes.

“He hadn’t joined a trinity.”

Sebastian sat back. “I hadn’t realized he was that old.”

Juliette nodded. At forty-five, her brother Harrison was twenty years older than Juliette. Not surprising, since her mother had been nearly fifteen years younger than Juliette’s father, the Grand Master before Harrison, while Harrison’s mother had been the same age as their father.

“Well, it seemed that Harrison did make a mistake—and not just failing to join a trinity.”

“Oh?”

“He fell in love with a woman who wasn’t in the Trinity Masters.”

Sebastian whistled.

“Better than that. She was offered membership but refused.”

Sebastian blinked.

“And he was willing to quit to be with her.”

Shock froze Sebastian in place, and Juliette took advantage of the moment to take a few bites. Talking about it—and seeing Sebastian’s reaction—was making her feel better.

Sebastian understood in a way that very few people would. They’d grown up together, children who were taught not to be truthful and honest, but how to keep secrets and avoid questions about their parents and home lives.

Juliette and Sebastian were legacies of the Trinity Masters, America’s oldest and most powerful secret society. The society had been established as the country was born. Members were given unparalleled access to the resources and support of other members. Joining was a guarantee of success, and members excelled in every type of industry, from politics to art and science. The founders had seen the potential to strengthen the foundation of the new republic by taking the best and brightest Americans and having them support each other.

But there was more to it than a vague idea of support. Members had to agree to an arranged marriage—the price of security and success was their choice in who they’d marry.

And marriages between members of the Trinity Masters weren’t arranged between two people, but three.

Sebastian had finally found his voice. “Are we talking about the same Harrison?”

“Apparently he’d been in love with this woman forever and was willing to risk it all to be with her.”

“Is he…I mean, have his councilors…” Sebastian had lowered his voice, and the skin around his eyes was tight with concern.

Breaking any of the laws of the Trinity Masters was very risky. Harsh punishments were meted out to any who disobeyed. One of those laws was that once the Grand Master had assigned someone to a trinity—usually in their late twenties or early thirties—they had thirty days to marry, even if they’d never met their partners before. Since the Grand Master was the one person who could choose his own trinity, there was an age limit by which he had to marry. Other rules included no divorce unless necessary for secrecy’s sake or other political reasons, and no discussing the Trinity Masters with outsiders.

Disobedience was almost unheard of. Juliette had grown up trading whispered stories about what had happened to people who broke the rules—framed for hideous crimes and locked up for life, scandals created that ruined careers, bank accounts drained, and spouses and children forbidden from ever speaking to the offenders again. They were the Trinity Masters’ version of the boogeyman tales.

To break a rule was nearly unheard of. For the Grand Master to do so was…inconceivable.

“The woman joined. He’s married now. To one of his councilors, Michael, and Alexis—she’s a doctor.”

“She joined?”

“Yes.”

“But?” Sebastian gestured for her to continue. He knew that couldn’t be the end of the story.

“But his other councilors forced him to step down as Grand Master.”

“Holy fuck.” He went on in several languages, not true cursing but using amusing, if vulgar expressions of astonishment.

Juliette snorted out a laugh. “Bastian, such language.”

Sebastian glared at her. He hated the nickname. “My apologies, Ms. Adams.”

Juliette bared her teeth. She hated her last name because it reminded her of her father, of who she’d grown up as—the daughter of the Grand Master.

The brief moment of amusement disappeared. Everything she’d told Sebastian was background information. The really shocking bit she had yet to say out loud.

“Does everyone know?” Sebastian asked.

Juliette shook her head. “They’re trying to keep it quiet.”

“That’s safer; if anyone thought there was a power—” Sebastian’s teeth snapped together as he stopped speaking abruptly. His gaze met Juliette’s.

“Jules,” he whispered, using an old childhood nickname, “who is the new Grand Master?”

Juliette Adams took a deep breath. “I am.”

Boston was cold in the winter. The terminal doors opened, allowing a blast of freezing air to flood the otherwise warm building. Juliette stopped in her tracks, hunching her shoulders and wishing she was wearing more than a loose sweater and thin scarf.

She’d lived here until she was eighteen but in the seven years since, Juliette had spent most of her time in Europe, South America and the Middle East. Except for a semester at St. Andrew’s in Scotland, she’d been in temperate climates. She no longer had the constitution for a New England winter.

Gritting her teeth, she dashed out, quickly spotting the cab she’d called for while still in line to clear customs.

“You need a coat.” The driver, who looked to be about Juliette’s age, turned to examine her shivering in the backseat.

“It’s been a while since I was in Boston.”

“I’ll turn up the heat. Where are you headed?”

“Charlestown.” For a horrible second Juliette couldn’t remember the address, it had been so long since she’d used it, but then the information popped into her head and she rattled it off.

The trip was slow due to the slushy roads and Boston’s world famous traffic. The driver updated her on the weather forecast—for Bostonians, talking about the weather was not a matter of idle chatter but life-or-death information, and for a moment she felt like she was home.

They pulled up outside a three-story red-brick building not far from Winthrop Square.

“Here?” The driver peered at her in the rearview mirror then glanced at the expensive address in one of Boston’s oldest neighborhoods. The travel-rumpled woman with her hair in a messy braid and a battered duffle bag did not fit the picture of the type of person who lived in a home like this.

“Yes. Thanks.” Juliette made the payment with her smartphone—which was now several models old and battered from being hauled all over the world—and slid out of the cab, tugging her bag with her.

A keypad at the entrance required a ten-digit code plus a fingerprint. It unlocked with a discreet click, and Juliette pulled the heavy front door open. The lights were on but the heat wasn’t, which more than likely meant no one else was staying here, but she called out, “Hello?”

Her voice echoed in the two-story foyer, tastefully decorated with antique furnishings and expensive art. It looked like any other upscale home in the neighborhood, but she doubted any of those other homes had nicknames like this one. It had been called the “frat house,” the “fortress of solitude” and the “legacy halfway house.”

There was no response to her voice, so she used a second keypad just inside the door to turn on the house systems, which were monitored remotely by a property management company. She felt the first waves of warm air when she reached the second-floor landing and the door to her room. There were six bedrooms and several dens. She, Sebastian and five other legacy kids from some of the oldest Trinity Masters’ families had gotten together to purchase the property as a home base in Boston. For her and Sebastian, who had careers that kept them overseas, it served as a permanent address and a place to store things, like designer clothes appropriate for Trinity Masters’ events, and winter clothes they didn’t need anywhere else.

Juliette could have kept a room in her father’s house, but even in high school she’d wanted nothing more than to distance herself from her family and its secrets and responsibilities. As far as the public knew, she was the only child of a famous actress, her paternity unknown. After her father had died, she’d politely declined Harrison’s offer to keep a room for her. She’d had no choice but to live in the Grand Master’s home when she’d visited her father. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell she’d continue to live in the Grand Master’s house if she had other options.

Her room was both elegant and sparse—a bare mattress under a protective plastic sheet sat on a four-poster wood frame. Stacked storage boxes were neatly arranged against the far wall, and the clothes in the closet were hidden in hanging garment bags.

Juliette dropped her duffle and considered just curling up in her clothes on the mattress, but she’d traveled enough to know that she’d feel better tomorrow if she put in some effort now.

She pulled out clean sheets and made the bed then jumped into a quick shower. It wasn’t until she’d dropped onto the bed wearing a pair of flannel pajamas pulled from a neatly labeled bin that she realized she’d forgotten a pillow. Too tired to care, she propped her head on one arm and for the first time since she’d landed, opened her email.

The message she expected was there.

Juliette,

Please let me know when you reach Boston. We need to discuss next steps. I’d like for you to meet Alexis.

Safe travels.

Harrison

She dropped the phone to the mattress and took several deep breaths, giving herself time to sort out what she was feeling. Shock had kept her numb from the time Harrison had called until she’d met with Sebastian in Istanbul. An afternoon spent talking to Seb had pushed her past shock over hearing about her too-proper brother’s out-of-character actions, to growing horror and anger over the reality of what becoming Grand Master would do to her life. She’d boarded the plane with jaw clenched—long-buried anger and resentment resurfacing.

That anger, dulled by travel, came roaring back as soon as she saw her brother’s name.

Harrison,

Let’s postpone the reunion. I’m in Boston and can meet with you and any councilors tomorrow after noon.

J.

Tossing her phone to the corner of the bed, Juliette closed her eyes then curled her legs up to her chest, feeling small and alone in the big house.

*****

Juliette kept her expression carefully blank as she looked around the Grand Master’s office. The room was windowless, as were all the rooms in the Trinity Masters’ headquarters, located deep under the Boston Public Library.

She had been in here several times with her father, which, while not forbidden, had been unusual. Trinity Masters’ events were not family affairs; more often than not the children ended up together at one residence or another with the nannies or au pairs watching them while their parents attended meetings or galas. Only rarely had circumstances aligned so she was under the sole care of her father, leaving him with no choice but to not only bring her with him to headquarters, but into the sacred Grand Master’s office.