Hidden Devotion (Trinity Masters #5)(2)
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 f*ck.” 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.”
Chapter One
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.