by Mari Carr
“Obviously,” the Grand Master continued, “we know quite a bit about him, as we do about all our members—”
“Yeah, that’s not ominous or terrifying,” Charlotte muttered. Given Vincent’s amused glance toward her and the way the Grand Master paused, it was apparent everyone had heard her. Christian bit back a smile.
“However, there are things we don’t know, and we need to know them. We believe him to be a threat to our organization.”
Christian’s stomach knotted. A threat to the Trinity Masters?
“Forgive me, Grand Master,” Vincent said, “but what makes you think we can discover anything about this man that you can’t?”
The Grand Master drew her hood lower over her face and tucked her hands into the voluminous sleeves, when Christian leaned forward for a closer look. It was her voice. It was driving him nuts. He knew it.
She attempted to deepen her voice even more, frustrating Christian even more.
She turned her attention away from him, focusing solely on Vincent. “You and Caden Anderson share similar interests, are members of the same…clubs. You both subscribe to, shall we say, like-minded extracurricular activities.”
Charlotte’s brow creased. “Extracurricular?”
The Grand Master’s explanation had obviously cleared things up for Vincent, who nodded and said, “I see.”
Christian thought he did too. And it only increased the lust he was suffering from in regards to Vincent Clayton.
“Good. Once you’ve analyzed the blueprint,” she nodded to Charlotte, “and acquired useful information about Caden,” now she nodded at Vincent, “you may proceed to the final binding ceremony. Until then,” she stood, so the rest of them followed suit, “I urge you to use caution. Tell no one of your tasks and protect each other.”
And on that dire warning, their ceremony had come to an end. The Grand Master left through a door at the back of the room, which left Christian alone with his new trinity for the first time.
“I suppose we should get dressed,” Vincent said. “I’ll meet you in the hallway in a few minutes.”
Christian and Charlotte followed, each of them returning to their dressing rooms. Christian put his clothing on quickly, anxious to start the rest of his life. As he did so, he played over the Grand Master’s commands. He couldn’t help but feel like the odd man out. He hadn’t been included in the tasks and he wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Within ten minutes, they’d met up again. Taking the secret elevator back to the rare books room, they quietly walked through the shelves of ancient tomes, through the Koussevitzky Room, which housed the library of John Adams, and down the dreary, threadbare aisle of the arts section.
Christian always found it ironic that the arts section was the least appealing place in the entire library. The place needed a serious facelift. The carpet had to be as old as him—maybe older—and it had not weathered that time well.
As they approached the exit, Christian silently marveled over how much his life had changed in the course of an hour.
There was a limo double parked outside the library. Drivers honked angrily as they sped around it. While Christian appreciated the gesture, he thought the car was probably overkill. The Boston Park Plaza was less than half a mile away from the library.
“A limo?” From Charlotte’s tone and expression, he could see she agreed.
“Should we send the man on his way and walk?” Vincent suggested.
He and Charlotte nodded, so they dismissed the driver and started for the hotel at a leisurely pace.
“So…you’re an architect?” Vincent asked, as he clasped hands with Charlotte. Christian observed the touch with interest. Vincent didn’t hesitate to claim Charlotte as his wife. He assumed that possessiveness was part of Vincent’s makeup, part of what made him a Dom.
Because he was clearly a Dom. It was written in his posture, in his appraising looks, in his quiet, commanding presence.
Charlotte nodded her head. “I’m a partner in the Needham Jacobs firm.”
Vincent gave her an assessing look. “Partner? Impressive.”
Charlotte sighed. “Go ahead and say what you’re thinking. I’m too young to be partner.”
Vincent shrugged, letting the gesture confirm that was exactly what he believed. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-two,” she replied easily. “How about you guys?”
“Thirty-six,” Vincent said.
Christian looked at him. “Looks like I’m the baby. I’m twenty-eight. What do you do, Vincent?”
“I’m a financier.”
“Really? Wall Street?”
“Is there any other street?” Vincent deadpanned.
Christian grinned. “You any good at it?”
“The first billion was hard, but it’s getting easier.”
Christian and Charlotte laughed. Vincent didn’t.
“Wait,” Charlotte said. “Are you serious?”
“I never joke about money.”
Christian was speechless, but it was becoming more obvious by the minute Charlotte never suffered that same affliction.
“So we’re rich now?”
Vincent released her hand, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Given your status as a partner in one of the most prestigious architectural firms in Boston, I’d venture to guess you’re rich in your own right. But yeah, we’re loaded.”
Charlotte snuggled into Vincent’s hold as if she’d always been there. “Cool.”
Again with the unruffled.
Christian was struggling to keep up with these two. He’d been accused—at least daily—of wearing his heart of his sleeve. As an actor, he was constantly called on to reveal a wide array of emotions. The problem with that was it was hard for him to stop once he stepped off the stage. Right now, he was finding it extremely difficult not to break out into hysterical laughter.
“And since we’ve covered the rich part,” Charlotte said, “we can rely on Christian to take care of the famous part.”
“Fan of Broadway?” Christian asked, pleased to discover she’d heard of him. Being a star of the stage was a far cry from being “Hollywood famous.” Christian Rogers Stewart wasn’t exactly a household name. As such, he was always delighted when someone knew who he was.
“Absolutely. I love New York. I went to see Hamilton a couple months ago. It was incredible,” Charlotte said.
Christian raised his hand with a fake wince. “Easy, Charlotte. Too soon.”
Charlotte, clearly confused, looked at Christian. “Excuse me?”
Vincent chuckled. “I suspect his reaction might have something to do with the fact that Hamilton swept the Tonys.”
Christian was pleasantly surprised to learn that both his partners knew not only about his career, but seemed to have an appreciation for Broadway.
“Oh,” Charlotte grimaced. “Sorry. Were you up for a Tony?”
Christian laughed. “Damn. Always too soon for that. No, I wasn’t, but one of my costars was.”
As they approached the hotel, Christian felt his phone buzzing. Glancing at the screen, he discovered the call was from the exact person he wanted to speak to.
He answered it as they walked through the revolving door of the Park Plaza hotel. Just inside the foyer, he said, “Hold on, Seb.”
He pulled the phone away from his ear. “Do you two mind going up without me? I promise this won’t take more than a minute.”
“Take your time,” Vincent said, reclaiming Charlotte’s hand as he led her to the elevator. A keycard to their penthouse suite had been left in each of their dressing rooms.
“Hey, bro. How did it go?” Sebastian asked when Christian resumed the call.
“Still early, but first impressions are amazing.”
Sebastian fell silent for a moment as Christian glanced across the foyer and spotted the bar. Perfect. He needed a drink and some time to wrap his head around everything that just happened.
“I’m glad. Listen, I need to
talk to you,” Sebastian said, as Christian grabbed a stool at the bar and ordered a gin and tonic.
“Right this minute? I just walked out of the binding ceremony, Seb.”
“Keep your voice down,” Sebastian admonished. “Where are you?”
“Park Plaza bar. No one’s around me.”
“Yeah. This needs to be said now. It has to do with your tasks,” Sebastian said.
Christian frowned. “What do you know about them?”
Sebastian hesitated for a moment, and Christian felt a slight pang of alarm.
“Seb,” he urged.
“I’m one of the new Grand Master’s counselors.”
Christian wasn’t sure there was anything his brother could have said that would have shocked him more. Few people even knew that the Grand Master had counselors. Even fewer knew who they were. Christian only knew about them because he was a legacy, and what little he knew was that they were incredibly powerful and dangerous. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“We know her.”
“What?” Sebastian choked. “What are you talking about?”
“Her voice. It’s really familiar to me. It was driving me nuts during the ceremony. But I couldn’t place it.”
“She’ll be relieved to know she masked it well enough.”
Christian groaned. “Fuck. You know shit like this drives me nuts.”
He expected his brother to laugh, but instead he was greeted by silence.
“Seb? What’s the deal with these tasks? I don’t remember this ever being part of the binding ceremony. And why didn’t I get one?”
Sebastian sighed. “First of all, maybe try attending some of the galas. There was a whole announcement about tasks. Second, your task is why I’m calling. The Grand Master just texted to let me know the ceremony was over. I’ve been given permission to fill you in on a bit more of what’s going on, but she’d prefer if you didn’t share what I’m about to tell you with your partners.”
Christian hated the request the second his brother made it. “That’s a hell of a way to start a marriage.”
“I know. And believe me, I hate to ask you, but, well, we’re in trouble.”
“We who?”
“The Trinity Masters.”
Christian took a long swig of his gin. Sounded like he was going to need the liquid fortification. “Hit me with it.”
“We’ve discovered a faction working within the organization. A group we’re calling the purists. They’re working against us.”
“How?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Every step forward is immediately followed by three giant leaps back. The Grand Master,” Sebastian paused, blowing out a long breath, “Juliette—”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Jules? Of course. Now it makes sense. The voice. You as a counselor.”
“I had to swear on the life of everyone we love that you could be trusted with that information. You have to take it to your grave. Never, ever speak of it. To anyone. Including your spouses. You understand that, right?”
Christian was a legacy. He knew exactly how important the anonymity of the Grand Master was. “I’d cut off my own arm before I’d reveal Juliette, Seb.”
For the first time, he heard the smile in his brother’s voice. “You don’t need to do anything that drastic, but yeah…your response just proves I was right about us trusting you. I’ll be sure Jules knows that.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “You need to learn a little respect, baby brother. She is the Grand Master.”
Sebastian sobered up. “I know. And she inherited the leadership at one hell of a time.”
“How so?”
“She discovered this rogue group was trying to purify—or cleanse or whatever you want to call it—the organization. Keep out minorities, stuff like that.”
“You’re kidding me. This isn’t the nineteen fifties, Seb.”
“No, it’s not, but all this shit started even before that.”
Christian wasn’t sure how to respond. “This group has been there for decades?”
“Yeah. And that alone would have been bad enough to deal with, but now we’ve uncovered a series of tunnels underneath the library. There’s stuff down there that shouldn’t be there.”
“What stuff?”
“Let’s just say National Treasure kind of stuff. The kind of stuff that could start another World War if it was exposed.”
“Stolen?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck,” Christian breathed out. “So this task Juliette gave us about the tunnels. What’s that about?”
“We came into possession of a blueprint that shows a series of tunnels. We need to figure out where they lead and who would have access to them.”
“What does Caden Anderson have to do with this?”
“We suspect he may be part of this purist sect. If we can flush him out, maybe we can figure out who the others are.”
“You realize how crazy all this sounds?” Christian asked, struggling to wrap his head around what he’d learned. “This is the kind of crap that happens in a Dan Brown book. Not in real life.”
“Says the man who just entered his arranged ménage marriage. Seriously, I said the same thing to Jules when she told me, but I’ve seen too much. Listen, we have reason to believe Caden is dangerous. Very dangerous. There have been some attacks.”
“On who?”
“Grant, for one.”
“Your Grant?”
“Yeah.”
“And Devon Asher.”
“Juliette’s betrothed?” Christian had grown up teasing his surrogate little sister Juliette about how she was like a fairy-tale princess, betrothed at birth. The reality of the betrothal hadn’t done great things for Juliette’s mental well-being, but apparently, she was happily married now. Though now that he thought about it, he was surprised she’d still married Devon if she was the Grand Master. He’d have to get that whole story later.
“Devon was shot,” Sebastian said.
Christian’s blood ran cold. “Why can’t I share this with Charlotte and Vincent? If this is going to put them in the line of danger—”
“You can’t do that, Christian. At least not yet. For one thing, they’ll want to know who told you.”
“You’re the Grand Master’s counselor and my brother.”
“It took me quite a bit of talking to get Juliette to allow me to tell you this much. Everything is happening so fast and we don’t know who we can trust. We’re counting on you to keep this secret. Each of us protects Juliette’s identity. And now it’s your job to protect your trinity. Truth is there are already too many people who know she’s the new Grand Master and we’re not making the identity of the counselors public knowledge yet either. Everything so far is being done on a need-to-know basis.”
Christian drained the rest of his gin, and then asked the question that had been nagging at the back of his head since the ceremony. “Why was I put in this trinity, Seb?”
“So that I can feed you information that you can use to guide the other two.”
“I’m a fucking double agent. In my own trinity.”
“It won’t be the first time that’s happened. Mine started the same. Juliette actually thought Grant was a purist.”
Christian frowned. “She bound you to him knowing that? Still pissed at you for lying to her, huh?”
Sebastian and Juliette had been best friends since birth. As such, he’d been forced to tell her a lie about his involvement with the CIA in order to protect her. For years, Juliette had believed Sebastian was an aid worker like her. She had been pissed off—big time—when she’d discovered that not only her best friend, but also her betrothed, Devon, had lied about their true occupations.
Sebastian groaned. “Yeah, she was. I think she’s getting over that now. Not that she has much choice. She can’t keep hating me for that when Devon told the same damn lies, and she sleeps with him every night.”
Devon and Juliet
te had overcome the lies and forged their trinity with another man, Franco.
Christian blew out a loud breath. “I can’t believe she risked your future that way.”
“There was a way out. And while I hated every minute of those first few days, it all worked out in the end. I’ve never been happier in my life than I am now with Elle and Grant. Besides, Charlotte and Vincent never need to know. It’s not like you’re working against them. You’re basically our guy on the inside.”
“Great. Is that all I need to know for now?” Christian was anxious to get upstairs.
“Juliette wants me to stress the need for caution, Christian. These tasks may seem fairly straightforward and, I don’t know, safe. Believe me when I say none of this comes without danger.”
“I’ll protect them.”
He and Sebastian had never had the more traditional older brother/younger brother relationship. Instead, they’d grown up more like best friends. “I know you will. If you find anything out, call me. And I’ll pass along any information we discover as well. Other than that, are you happy with your trinity?”
Christian grinned. He was. Ridiculously so. “Yeah. I am.”
“I’m glad. Talk to you soon.”
Christian disconnected the call, paid his tab and headed for the elevator.
When Christian entered the penthouse, he found Vincent and Charlotte together on the couch, talking quietly. Apparently, they’d been waiting for him.
Vincent stood. “Good, you’re back. I’ve been thinking about the tasks we’ve been assigned and I think now is as good a time as any to start.”
“You mean tonight?” Christian asked.
Vincent nodded. “I know of a local club where we can begin our investigation of Caden Anderson. I’ve only been there once, but I believe it may be our best bet.”
“Awesome,” Charlotte said. “I just bought a new pair of kick-ass heels. Perfect for clubbing. I’ll warn you guys now, I love to dance.”
Christian grinned. “I don’t think he means that kind of club, Charlotte.”
He couldn’t decide whose comment had caught Vincent more off guard. The fact that Charlotte didn’t catch on about Vincent’s special brand of extracurricular activity, or the fact that Christian had.
