Necessary Pursuit (A Trinity Masters Novel)

by Lila Dubois

  There was stiff silence for a moment, then he heard Percival sigh. “Perhaps this information would be best shared in person.”

  Owen smiled, knowing the other man couldn’t see the expression. “Let’s meet in the middle. Brussels.”

  “Tonight in Brussels.”

  Chapter Two

  Selene smiled at Oscar as he placed her suitcase and his bag down by the front door of the safe house. The five-hour car ride from Boston to the small, rural town of Lenoxville, Pennsylvania, had been relatively uneventful. She and Oscar had discussed movies and books with Bill and Wayne, the two bodyguards from Bennett Security who had been assigned to protect them. Bill had done a quick yet thorough walk-through of the house before allowing her and Oscar to enter. Now Wayne was circling the grounds as Bill stood sentry at the front door.

  While Selene knew she should feel safe with guards and Oscar, it was difficult to relax knowing that her life may be in danger. That Luca Campisi, a man capable of designing a deadly bomb, and tracking down electronics in a way Oscar—who was brilliant—hadn’t anticipated, was looking for them.

  “Thank you, Oscar,” she said softly, slipping off her winter coat, as she looked around the large farmhouse the Grand Master had provided for the two of them. The Grand Master had offered to split them up, but when faced with the possibility of being separated from Oscar, Selene had insisted on remaining with him. She wasn’t sure what it was about the handsome, grumpy man from Charleston, but Selene was intrigued and…dammit…smitten.

  The front door opened into a large room that was a combination living room and dining room, with well-worn hardwood floors covered with a smattering of rag rugs. There were no overhead lights, so the interior was lit by lamps. Between that and the too small, too few windows, the house was quite dim, considering it was early afternoon and sunny outside. Not that they expected the sunshine to last. The weather forecast included a freak snowstorm, the word blizzard even mentioned as a possibility.

  It was certainly cold enough to snow. The safe house was quite chilly, and she glanced around wondering where the thermostat was. Or if there was a fireplace they could use.

  “I wonder how long we’ll be here.” Selene hadn’t expected to be away from home longer than a few days, so she hadn’t packed enough clothing. If this adventure lasted more than another week, she was going to have to do laundry. Luckily she wasn’t teaching this semester, but focusing on a research project. All she had to do was reschedule some meetings with grad students and she’d be okay on the work front.

  “Who the fuck knows,” Oscar grumped. But then he put his arm around her, pulling her against his side and rubbing his hand over her upper arm. On the surface, he was off-putting because of the anger, but she’d gotten to peek under the surface, to see the core of the man, and he was caring and brilliant.

  And very, very good in bed.

  Selene sighed. “I might have to do laundry if it drags on too long.”

  Oscar gestured to his small overnight bag. “Yeah. All I’ve got in there are a couple clean T-shirts, two pairs of socks, another pair of boxers, and some lounge pants. Didn’t realize this trip was going to go into overtime. Or that it was going to be cold as a witch’s tit.”

  Selene grinned at the Southerner’s lightweight jacket. As an upstate New Yorker, she was no stranger to frigid weather. The same couldn’t be said of Oscar.

  Selene lifted her laptop case. “At least I can do some work while we’re here. Though given my current research, I can’t really be away from my lab for more than a month. What do you think the chances are there’s good Wi-Fi out here in the middle of nowhere?”

  Oscar shrugged. “I’m not holding my breath. At least you’ve got a computer.”

  Sebastian had confiscated Oscar’s laptop, the hard drive and his tablet, something Oscar was not handling well at all. “Not that it matters. The good equipment is in my home office. Couldn’t have accomplished much from here anyway.”

  Selene followed him down the hallway, the two of them exploring the downstairs. Besides the living space at the front of the old farmhouse, there was a small room set up as an office, a half bath, and a doorway that appeared to lead to a basement.

  Selene’s eyes widened as they stepped into the last room on the first floor—the kitchen. “I didn’t expect this,” she said, as they entered the large, bright, modern kitchen. “This room has obviously been remodeled recently.” Black dome pendant lights hung over the breakfast island, which had four tall woven stools. The room was far more inviting than the rest of the house, feeling like the type of place guests would gather at a party, standing around the counter, eating, drinking, talking.

  It instantly became Selene’s favorite room. As a single woman who lived alone, Selene didn’t cook very often, though she enjoyed it. Cooking for one always felt like more effort than it was worth, and in truth, she was typically too busy with work to make the attempt. As such, she lived on microwave meals, takeout and the occasional bowl of cereal for dinner.

  “The whole house beats the hell out of my place,” Oscar mused.

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Not a lot in my Batcave except the bare necessities. A bed, a couch, my workroom.”

  Selene turned to study him, curious about what his home might look like. Their association had been very short—the two of them only meeting just over a week ago. And while they’d had sex several times a day since they met, there was very little she knew of the man beyond the physical realm.

  Last night, they’d been given separate sleeping quarters within the Trinity Masters headquarters, something she suspected they were both somewhat grateful for, considering the strange turn of events that had occurred during the day. Selene had lain on the air mattress, playing over everything that had happened over the course of the past two weeks, and she suspected Oscar, who’d been unhappy about his initiation into the Trinity Masters, had needed the time alone to assimilate to his new future.

  Selene’s work typically kept her too busy for socializing. Instead, she preferred to share a night or two with men she found physically attractive, rather than someone with whom she might form an emotional bond. After all, as a member of the Trinity Masters, she wasn’t searching for a Mr. or Ms. Right. She was simply biding the time until she was called to the altar, by indulging her sexual needs and expanding on her experience.

  She was both curious and adventurous by nature, a combination that had given her parents gray hair, but which were assets in a scientist. The truth was that science was rapidly approaching, or perhaps had already passed, the point where the question was no longer “could” they do something, but “should” they. The bomb Luca had created was a prime example. A small, portable nuclear detonation device, as opposed to a street-corner reactor that could power a few square city blocks, was scientifically thrilling and morally horrifying.

  When Oscar turned her, pulling her against his chest so they were flush from shoulder to knee, her thoughts turned to sex. The same curiosity and lust for adventure that drove her scientific inquiry guided her sex life.

  The feeling was undoubtedly aided by the fact that lust was a far more enjoyable sensation than vague unease and fear, which were what she’d been feeling since the bodyguards had picked them up.

  She wasn’t sure if saying she wanted to stay with Oscar so she could continue to have sex with him was better or worse than saying she was smitten.

  While Selene didn’t regret sleeping with him, she was struggling to walk away, something she’d never had a problem with before.

  Now that they’d gone into—as Oscar said—overtime, she was interested in getting to know him on a more personal level. What she’d learned of him so far had left her equal parts fascinated and curious.

  “So, you’re from Charleston…” she started.

  “Yep. Born and raised. I built a small cottage on a large piece of property my family owns just outside the city. My brothers also have houses there…well, places to l
ive. Langston converted the barn into his apartment-slash-lab and built a Tesla coil in the stable area.”

  “I’ve been to Charleston a couple of times. It’s a lovely city.”

  “You’ll have to come visit me sometime. I’ll show you all the best locals’ haunts, the places that never make it into the travel guides.”

  “I’d like that very much. Sounds like you and your brothers are close.” She had met Langston, but had yet to meet the third triplet, who was apparently a doctor and out of the country.

  “We’re very tight, got that triplet link thing going. You have any siblings?”

  She nodded. “A younger sister, Theia.”

  “Yeah. I have one of those, too. Sylvia.”

  “Oh yes. I remember the Grand Master mentioning that you had a sister the first time we met. What does she do for a living?”

  “She’s a successful poet.”

  Selene’s brows rose. “Sylvia Hayden is your sister?”

  It was Oscar’s turn to be surprised, though she also detected some pride in his expression. “You’ve read her work?”

  Selene nodded. “My best friend is a literature professor at Cornell. She claims I have the potential to become a supervillain and is on a mission to make sure I maintain my moral empathy by exposure to fine arts—music, literature, poetry. She gave me a copy of one of your sister’s books for Christmas last year. I enjoyed it so much, I went out and bought the rest of her work.”

  “Supervillain?” Oscar snorted. “Well, teaching STEM without also teaching humanities is how we get Spider-Man villains.”

  Sylvia laughed, thrilled he hadn’t been shocked or horrified by the joking reference to her line of work’s potential for evil.

  “I’ll tell Sylvia her art is keeping you from joining the dark side. She’ll be touched.”

  “As I recall, the Grand Master advised Langston not to contact her when we were analyzing the bomb schematics at headquarters. Why?”

  Oscar sighed. “She lives in England now. Moved over there and joined the Masters’ Admiralty.”

  Selene had been shocked to learn that there was another secret society, much like the Trinity Masters, that functioned in Europe. “I’m curious how Sylvia became involved with a secret society in a different country. Why wouldn’t she have joined the Trinity Masters?”

  Oscar casually shrugged one shoulder. “The answer to that is simple and complicated. She fell in love.” There was something in his voice that Selene wasn’t sure she was hearing correctly, something that sounded perilously close to distaste.

  “Explain, please.”

  “Two members of the European cult, Lancelot and Hugo, were in Charleston looking for a woman they believed was working with an enemy of the Masters’ Admiralty. The woman, Alicia, was my sister’s former teacher and friend. They came to Sylvia for help locating her. Somewhere along the way, she fell in love with them, and they with her. Eric, the fleet admiral—head dipshit of the Europeans—invited Sylvia to join the cult, then married her to Lancelot and Hugo. Actually, he offered all of us membership to his cult.”

  Selene had heard Oscar refer to the Trinity Masters as a cult a few times, and it amused her. “Perhaps you should reconsider the cult descriptor, given the fact you are now a member.”

  Oscar rubbed his jaw uncomfortably. “Don’t remind me.”

  “It’s not so bad.” She patted his chest. “We have cookies…and access to DOD research contracts.”

  There was no mistaking he hadn’t been happy about joining the Trinity Masters. She had been surprised to discover he’d had a standing invitation, as she didn’t realize that was a possibility. Selene, a legacy, hoped that with the passage of time, he would change his mind about the secret society and all it had to offer.

  “So the arranged marriages in the Masters’ Admiralty aren’t made based on innovation capacity or protection of intellectual assets and arts, but rather love?” she asked.

  Oscar shook his head. “I don’t know a lot about the Masters’ Admiralty, but from the things Sylvia has said, I get the impression her trinity was an exception rather than the rule.”

  “She was very lucky then.”

  Oscar studied her face, his brows furrowed. “If you think so, then why did you join the Trinity Masters, knowing love might not be part of your future marriage?”

  “I’m a legacy, Oscar. I grew up in what I knew was a nontraditional household, and when I was old enough to be trusted with the secret, my parents, all three of them, told me why. I know that love can grow between strangers in an arranged marriage, and that, quite frankly, parenting with three people seems preferable to two. It’s normal to me because that’s how it was in my family. My parents didn’t know each other—besides by reputation—before they were called to the altar, however, the three of them found a deep and abiding love. Is that why you were resistant to join? Because you’d prefer to marry someone you love? If so, I hope you’ll believe me when I say I’ve seen many, many trinities formed between strangers who have fallen in love.”

  Oscar hmphed. “You’re a romantic.”

  She laughed. “I believe that’s the first time I’ve ever been called that. I prefer to think of myself as a realistic optimist because I know myself well enough to know I don’t wish to live my life in a cold, emotionless marriage. One of those might really turn me into a supervillain.”

  His lips twitched. “For the good of humanity, you need to be in love?”

  “I want affection, companionship, and good sex.”

  His hands slid to her hips. “Just good?”

  She winked. “Fine. Amazing sex. Now that you’re a member, are you saying you wouldn’t prefer the same?”

  Rather than answer, Oscar released her and walked over to the refrigerator, pulling it open. “Fully stocked,” he murmured.

  Selene got a sense he was uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken and was attempting to stall. Or change the subject completely.

  Unfortunately for him, she’d been described as tenacious on countless occasions in the past. If there was something she wanted to know, she asked the questions until she discovered the answer. “Oscar,” she prodded.

  “I’m not worried about finding love. In or out of a cult.”

  His response was vague…and compelling. And it drove home exactly how little she knew about him.

  “Why not?”

  Oscar ignored her question. Instead, he pulled an IPA from the refrigerator and held it up to her. “Want one?”

  She nodded, watching as he grabbed a second bottle, uncapping them both before handing her one. She glanced at the label and saw that the beer came from a local brewery.

  He walked around to where she sat, setting his bottle on the counter after taking a long drink. He leaned closer, placing a soft kiss—his lips cold after the beer—against her neck. “Should we check out the second floor? Find the bedrooms?” he murmured, his mouth still exploring her neck and the sensitive spot just below her ear.

  The man was an accomplished lover, and she was tempted to extend their tour to the bedrooms—just one bedroom, actually—as he suggested. But she recognized his actions as a diversion.

  “Yes, I would, but I reject you using sex to avoid answering my question.”

  Oscar lifted his head from her neck. Then upped the ante, his hands grasping her waist as he stepped closer, forcing her legs apart so that he could stand between them. It was an invitation she didn’t want to decline, but there was a tightness around his eyes and mouth that spoke of a pain she wanted to understand.

  “Selene,” he whispered, kissing her cheek before nipping her earlobe. “The only thing that matters now is I’m a cult member. Stuck.”

  She pulled away. “Is that truly how you feel?”

  Oscar huffed, stepping back, then moving to the other side of the island. Leaning across, he reached for his beer, taking another long drink. Two sips in and he’d nearly polished off the whole bottle. “Yeah,” he said, with a surpr
ising amount of heat. “That’s how I feel.”

  She sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why you feel stuck?”

  Oscar shook his head, the gesture not one of rejection, but rather reluctant capitulation. She was wearing him down.

  His attention was focused on the large bay windows that created a small breakfast nook off the side of the kitchen. “I’ve been in love before. It didn’t work out.”

  “Heartbreak isn’t an uncommon occurrence, Oscar.”

  “It was more than that.”

  “More?”

  “Forget it,” he said dismissively.

  “Did this relationship end recently?”

  He shook his head, still not looking at her. “Two years ago.”

  Selene wasn’t sure what to make of that response. “Two years,” she repeated. That was a long time. “Why did the relationship end?”

  His gaze swung in her direction, and he was scowling deeply. “She said the only emotion I was capable of was anger. She was right.” His tone and dark expression certainly seemed to mirror that accusation.

  She held his gaze. “I see.”

  Oscar finished his beer with one last sip, and once again, she recognized his reluctance in continuing this discussion. The silence dragged on, lasting a few moments too long, passing from companionable to awkward.

  She and Oscar didn’t have a long acquaintance, so any reassurance she might offer would no doubt ring false to him, though she’d certainly witnessed many emotions from him. Not the least of which was lust, her personal favorite.

  So she wouldn’t dismiss her own instincts, which told her whoever this woman was, she had indeed been mistaken.

  She expected Oscar to change the subject, so she was surprised when, once again, he stared out the window as he spoke. It was as if by avoiding her eyes, he could pretend she wasn’t there, wasn’t listening.

  “We were high school sweethearts. She was my first love, and I was hers. I’m not going to say it was all sunshine and roses. We were off as much as we were on. Langston used to tease us, called us Ross and Rachel, but I did love her. And I tried to be the man she wanted, needed.”