Delicate Ties (Trinity Master Book 8)

by Mari Carr

  Juliette looked weary. “She’s not your problem. She’s ours.”

  “But she’s trying to kill Christian, so that sort of makes her our problem.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that anymore.”

  Juliette looked up at the deep voice coming from the doorway and smiled. “Devon. Finally. Where have you been?”

  “Got sidetracked.”

  “By Rose?” Juliette asked. “You found her.”

  Devon sank down into the chair next to Christian, his eyes troubled. “Yes and no. I was on my way back here when I saw a van pulled up to the curb on Dartmouth Street. There’s no parking there, and from the way the other cars were honking, annoyed at having to go around, it caught my attention. I saw a man carrying a woman from one of the side doors of the library.”

  “I thought those doors were alarmed?” Juliette asked.

  “They are. No alarm went off. I started to walk toward the guy and that’s when I saw the woman more clearly. Dark hair.”

  “Rose?” Juliette crossed the room to stand closer to her husband.

  Devon nodded. “Yeah. It was her. And she was unconscious. I took off running toward the man, but he’d spotted me. He was too far away. He bundled her into the back of the van and the thing peeled away from the curb.”

  “Did you get the license plate?” Vincent asked.

  “No tags.”

  “Oh my God.” Juliette was visibly upset. “What the hell do we do now? Rose…she could be in serious danger.”

  Charlotte could see that neither Christian nor Vincent appeared to be worried about that. She couldn’t blame them really. After all, Rose had just tried to shoot Christian, and she had managed to cause a cave-in that could have killed them all. Problem was, Charlotte couldn’t shake free from the image of the abuse Rose had suffered growing up. Her life had been hell. Who could blame her for being angry, for striking out?

  Devon stood up and took Juliette’s hands in his. “I’ll call some of my contacts at the CIA, see if they can catch a lead. There are surveillance cameras set up on the street and on the library. We’ll check the video feed. See if we can catch a break, spot something I missed. We’ll find her, Jules. I promise.”

  Franco and Eli staggered into the office. Franco was grinning. Eli looked grim.

  “It’s a Kore,” Franco announced.

  Charlotte frowned. That’s what Eli had said when he appeared in the tunnel. “It’s a what?”

  “A Kore statue. Greek. Statues of young women are called Kore statues. It’s in incredible shape.” Franco practically glowed with happiness.

  “It was missing an arm,” Charlotte pointed out.

  “Exactly! The Korai they found at the acropolis were cracked into pieces. This one is nearly whole.”

  “It’s in comparable condition to the Peplos Kore,” Eli said. “Six hundred BCE.”

  “Eli? You’re worrying me. Why aren’t you excited?” Juliette peered at him.

  Franco whirled. “Good question. What am I missing?”

  Eli propped himself on the edge of the desk, looking like a professor resting for a moment mid-lecture.

  “Lecture?” Charlotte murmured.

  Franco glanced at her impatiently. “Yes. Best part. Shhh.”

  Eli crossed his arms, his expression telling them he would wait for complete silence before speaking.

  Charlotte pursed her lips tightly to keep from laughing. Eli and Franco were a matched set.

  “From what little you’ve told me,” Eli threw a sharp glance at Juliette and Sebastian, “and from what we discovered when we found the ERR album, the story was clear.”

  Charlotte raised her hand as if she were a student. It seemed appropriate. “It is? Can you explain it to me, because I have no idea what’s going on.”

  Eli opened his mouth, but Juliette cut him off. “I’ll start.” She shook back her hair and took a breath. “The purists were—are—members of the Trinity Masters who sympathized with the Nazi cause and beliefs. They actively tried to stop non-white members from participating in the nineteen thirties and forties. They intercepted messages and set traps for people the Grand Master had invited, but who they didn’t want as members.”

  “But they were also actively helping the Nazis,” Franco added.

  Juliette looked sad and tired as she nodded. “Yes, they were.”

  Beside Charlotte, Vincent tensed.

  “Helping them how?” Charlotte asked.

  Eli took over. “One of the ERR albums—in short, the Nazis’ records of the art they stole—was hidden in our tunnels. The album would have come either directly from the Third Reich or been brought back by American soldiers who picked it up as a souvenir.”

  “So which was it?” Vincent asked.

  Eli frowned. “Direct from the Nazis, and we know that because they got not just the album, but some of the pieces of art themselves. We know that because we—my trinity and I—were tasked with finding the art pieces in the ERR album. And we did. We found a Rodin in a private collection. We, uh, took it…”

  “You stole it,” Franco said with some glee.

  Eli looked both embarrassed and aggrieved, but shook it off. “When we took it, we were followed, attacked. I was kidnapped. The purists who owned it were desperately trying to protect it.”

  “Jesus,” Christian murmured. Charlotte was relieved to see his color was not only back to normal, but he was engaged in the conversation. Whatever shock he’d been suffering from appeared to have faded.

  Eli acknowledged Christian’s dismay with a brief nod. “During the war, the purists must have used their connections as members of the Trinity Masters to smuggle the art into the U.S., and hide it in the tunnels. Most of what’s left down there is paper, so we assume the art was moved, and possibly sold on the black market. Clearly they also kept some pieces for their own collections.”

  “Then why is the statue still down there?” Charlotte asked.

  Eli smiled for the first time. “It’s too big. I don’t know how they got it down there to begin with, but my guess is it’s too heavy and large to get out. Not without alerting someone.”

  Juliette walked over to Eli and touched his shoulder. “What are we missing, Eli?”

  “That Kore…it was never Nazi property. It was in the hands of the Allies.”

  Charlotte looked at Vincent and Christian, who were frowning.

  “You must be wrong,” Franco said. “The Nazis must have stolen it.”

  “Wrong? I’m wrong?” Eli straightened to his full height. He was taller than his mild-mannered-professor persona made him seem, almost as tall as Vincent.

  Vincent shifted a bit, sliding away from Charlotte so he had room to move if needed. The man was a born protector. And every time he flew to her defense, her panties got wet.

  Franco pursed his lips. “You’re not wrong, maybe the records are wrong. Maybe no one realized the Nazis took it.”

  “There are only a few dozen Kore statues that survived to modern times. Of those, only one fully formed statue is missing. It was in the private collection of Lord and Lady Donnelly, at their London estate. They fled the blitz. After the war, the remaining members of the family reported the piece missing. There’s no way the Nazis had it. It was on English soil and was presumed either stolen while they were away from London, or destroyed when part of the house collapsed.”

  Silence greeted that information.

  “So how did something that was last seen in England end up amid Nazi art in the Trinity Masters’ tunnels in Boston?” Christian asked.

  “It doesn’t fit.” Juliette looked like she wanted to throw something. “None of this makes any…” Her voice trailed off and she frowned.

  “Then there’s the trunks,” Eli said when Juliette remained quiet.

  “What about them?” Vincent demanded.

  “They’re steamer trunks. The kind people used when they traveled by ship.”

  Charlotte clapped her han
ds together. “Of course. They would have had to bring all the art by boat.”

  Eli smiled at her like she was his favorite student. “Exactly.”

  “Then the trunks might tell us more about the boat, the name or a date, or maybe there are tickets inside. Let’s go open them!” Charlotte started for the door.

  Vincent stepped in her path at the exact same time Eli held out his arm. Two giants intent on stopping her.

  “You’re not going back in that tunnel,” Vincent growled.

  Eli agreed, but for different reasons. “It would be a pointless trip. Those trunks are in terrible shape. They’re more mold and rot than wood. The collapse you caused didn’t help.”

  “We caused?” Vincent asked at the same time Christian said, “Uh, someone tried to murder us.”

  “Not a good enough reason to risk damaging the art,” Eli said.

  Franco smiled. “Restoration. I can do restoration. I’ll need equipment.”

  “Jasper can get it from the Smithsonian,” Eli said.

  “Jasper?” Charlotte asked.

  “One of my partners,” Eli explained. “We’re married to Irina.”

  “The woman who was trapped?” Christian said.

  Eli winced, clearly still haunted by that memory.

  “How long will it take?” Sebastian asked.

  “It depends,” Franco answered.

  “Since we can’t move the trunks or the Kore, we’ll have to turn that section of tunnel into a museum-grade storage facility.” Eli sighed. “That’s going to take a lot of manpower. And money.”

  “If I offer to pay for it, can we leave?” Vincent asked.

  “Wait, I want to know what happens!” Charlotte was caught up in the mystery of it all.

  “They’ll keep us informed.” Vincent’s voice made it clear it was a statement, not a request.

  Charlotte caught sight of Juliette. She was holding the portfolio Vincent and Caden had fought over—the one full of birth certificates. She was absentmindedly running her fingers along the leather cover.

  Charlotte studied the small placard on the front—Admiralty. It struck Charlotte that the Grand Master felt a bit like an admiral, commanding her ship. And even though Charlotte hadn’t seen her since the binding ceremony, she was in awe of the woman’s perseverance, her determination to right all the wrongs. She had chosen worthy counselors to help her.

  Though, tonight, right now, Juliette seemed low on steam and maybe confidence.

  “Juliette,” Charlotte said, crossing the room. “You’re going to figure this out. The Grand Master is one smart cookie. After all, she put together this brilliant team. I have faith in all of you. The Trinity Masters is in good hands.”

  Juliette smiled slowly. “Thanks, Charlotte. But you still have to erase those pictures from your phone.”

  Charlotte laughed as she handed her phone to Juliette. “You better do it. Those drawings were some of my finer work. The temptation to pretend to delete them is too great.”

  Juliette deleted the photos, then raised a brow, opened Charlotte’s cloud storage and deleted them off there too, before she handed the phone back. “Where are you going from here?” she asked.

  “Back to the Omni, I guess,” Charlotte said.

  Vincent put his arm around Charlotte’s shoulders. “And then on to New York. We’re going to live there.”

  Juliette nodded. “In the past, trinities were given a month to get to know one another after the binding ceremony. Since the new Grand Master assumed command, that time limit has changed.”

  “Until the missions are complete?” Christian asked.

  “Yeah.” Juliette put the folio down and studied their faces. “You finished yours in record time.”

  “Hey,” Eli said in protest. “I thought we held the record.”

  “Go home to Jasper and Irina, Eli,” Sebastian said with a grin. “I’m sure they’re dying to hear all about what’s gone on here tonight.”

  Eli seemed hesitant to leave. “But my Kore…she’s all alone down there in the dark.”

  Franco placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder as he guided him to the door. “Meet me here tomorrow around ten. We’ll make a list of everything we need to build the storage facility, come up with a way to spend a bunch of Vincent’s money.”

  Vincent rolled his eyes as Franco and Eli walked out together.

  “You’ve only been together a few days, but if you’d like, we can hold the marriage ceremony tonight.”

  “Now?” Charlotte asked excitedly. “Without the Grand Master?”

  Juliette laughed. “Unless you’d rather come back tomorrow or later in the week. You know, when you’re not covered in dirt. The only problem is—”

  “You don’t know what tomorrow or the rest of this week will bring,” Christian finished for her.

  Juliette shrugged. “It’s been a whirlwind few months. I know you’re anxious to get back to New York and the Grand Master is very busy.”

  “We’ll do it,” Vincent replied quickly.

  Charlotte looked down and let a quiet “ugh” slip out. They were covered in dust from the cave-in. Regardless, she wasn’t keen on letting this opportunity slip away.

  Unfortunately, Vincent misunderstood her response.

  “Oh, beauty. I’m sorry,” Vincent said, taking her hand. “It’s your wedding. We can wait if you want to. You can buy a pretty dress, get a manicure and your hair done. There’s no rush if you want this to be special.”

  Charlotte grinned. “I’m absolutely, one-hundred percent fine with now. But maybe you should ask Christian. He might have a Burberry he’s picked out to wear special for the event.”

  “Oh, you’re hilarious, Chuck.” Christian wrapped his arm around her shoulders and ruffled her hair. A cloud of dust puffed out around her and she realized they really were filthy.

  “But am I irresistible?”

  Christian gave her a quick, hard kiss. “So much so, I don’t want to wait another second to make you my wife.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Juliette said. “Let’s move this party to the altar room. You want to do the honors, Seb?”

  “Really?” Sebastian asked.

  “In the event the Grand Master is unable to perform the ceremony, her counselors can step in to officiate.”

  “Christian?”

  “I’d love it.”

  Sebastian clapped his brother on the back, the two of them leading the way.

  Vincent took Charlotte’s hand and gave it a squeeze. When they entered the room, Christian was there, ready to claim Charlotte’s other hand.

  They approached Sebastian together, the three of them. Charlotte had known them less than a week and yet she’d never been more certain of the rightness, the perfectness.

  Juliette stood next to Sebastian and smiled at them as Christian’s brother began the ceremony.

  “You pledged your lives to our cause and our way. You’ve met your partners, your lovers, your spouses.”

  Charlotte glanced at Vincent and then Christian, so overwhelmed with emotion, she couldn’t contain it. “I love you both so much,” she whispered.

  She realized she was the first to say it aloud, but she didn’t care, didn’t want to hide anything from her partners. Ever.

  “I love you too, beauty,” Vincent murmured.

  “Ditto, Chuck,” Christian whispered in her ear.

  “Can I continue?” Sebastian asked, clearly amused by their aside.

  Charlotte nodded. “Yep. Sorry.”

  “You are here to be formally bound in the marriage of the Trinity Masters.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Vincent leaned against the door of their hotel suite and sighed. He was smiling like a fool, but there was no way he was wiping that expression off anytime soon.

  “Shower?” Christian suggested.

  Vincent shook his head. “Bath. All of us together.”

  Charlotte was already halfway to the bathroom, clearly tired of the laye
r of dust clinging to her clothing, hair and skin. Vincent tried to feel guilty about pushing Charlotte and Christian to exchange their vows tonight in such a filthy state. But he’d almost lost his lovers as many times as days they’d been together—to fire, gunshots, cave-ins, break-ins.

  Enough was enough. When Juliette told them they could get married, Vincent was only too ready to say “I do” and drag his husband and wife back to New York. If they were lucky, he’d resist the urge to cocoon them in bubble wrap until they managed to get back to his apartment and its state-of-the-art security system.

  The three of them quickly shed their clothing, tossing it in the corner. The suite had a shower as well as a large Jacuzzi tub, one with plenty of room for the three of them.

  Charlotte hopped in the shower, rinsing off the grime quickly before moving over to the Jacuzzi. She was the first in, sinking into the hot water with a loud sigh. “Oh my God, this feels good.”

  Christian followed her lead, rinsing off in the shower before climbing in next, claiming the spot next to her while mimicking her cry of relief. His ankle was still sore, but the pain was fading. “Oh yeah. That’s the ticket.”

  Vincent stood and watched them for a minute, enjoying their ease with each other. Sometimes he had to remind himself that he hadn’t known these two a full week yet. It truly felt as if they’d spent a lifetime together.

  Christian had brought a cup over from the sink and he was using it to wet Charlotte’s wild mass of hair, intent on washing it for her.

  Charlotte batted his hand away when the water failed to make a dent. And with a grin, she held her nose and submerged herself.

  She was laughing when she broke back through the surface. “There. Otherwise we would have been here all night.”

  Christian shook his head at her antics and reached for the shampoo, working it into a lather. “I love your hair, Chuck. It’s got as much personality as you.”

  “Yeah, well, I hated it when I was younger. You should have seen me when I was little. My mother seriously considered putting me in tryouts for a local rendition of Little Orphan Annie. I was the spit of her.”

  “You should have auditioned,” Christian said.

  She shook her head. “Can’t sing. At all. It’s really bad actually.”