Hidden Devotion (16 page)

“Don’t you dare.”

She turned to see Devon awake and propped on one elbow. “What?”

His face was an oval of pale skin in the muted darkness. “Don’t you dare leave. You always leave.”

Juliette turned away, though she doubted he could see her expression. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

“No, you’re not.” He got out of bed.

Juliette slid out of the bedroom, heart beating with the rapid pace of a rabbit fleeing a fox. He followed her, six feet of naked intent.

Last night had been…she couldn’t believe it. She’d never been so bold or sure of herself as she had been when she’d orchestrated that
ménage
.

But the truly terrifying part was how right it had felt…and how much she wanted it to happen again. She’d woken assuming it was a dream—the kind that was too good to be true. But what frustrated her was that now, when she had the power to walk away from Devon, she couldn’t seem to do it.

“You’re shutting down, locking me out.” He stalked her, radiating frustration. “Do you know how much I hate dawn in Paris?”

“You hate dawn in Paris?” Juliette shook her head. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say.”

“Is it?” His voice was raw with anger. “Last night was amazing, and yet here we are—you treating me like enemy number one.”

“I’m not—” Juliette bit back the denial. It would have been a lie. He deserved better than that. “I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “You’re right, last night
was
amazing.”

“And what does it mean?”

“Mean? It doesn’t mean anything. We’re all unattached adults who chose to have a good time.”

“Damn it, Juliette. Don’t. Please.”

“Don’t what, Devon? Tell me what you want me to say.” Emotion made her throat tight even as her fingers tingled with the need to touch him.

“I want you to say that you’ll reinstate our trinity. I want you to say that I
mean
something to you.”

The emotion in his voice made her breath catch. Her voice was soft when she answered. “Of course you mean something to me.”

“Really? Because at the first chance you got, you tossed me aside.”

“No, Devon, I didn’t.” She lived in shades of gray, and he was speaking in black and white. “You have no problem with how we grew up, or with the arranged marriage, but guess what? I do. I idolized you, loved you.” Embarrassment at the memory of how she’d fawned on him, how desperately she’d wanted his attention, clawed at her.

“What happened? What did I do to make you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.” It would be easier if she did. “But I’ve never been in control of my life or my feelings. I had no choice but to love you.”

“That’s not true.” He sounded exasperated.

“Really? I grew up living in half of a fairy tale—the princesses betrothed to the handsome prince.” Still naked, she mock-curtseyed, anger bitter on her tongue. “But in
my
story there’s another princess, and whoops, before we could get married and live happily ever after, I grew up and got an education. I realized that whatever feelings you and I have for one another aren’t organic, they’re manufactured by circumstance.”

“My feelings for you are real.”

“How the hell would you know, Devon?” She was yelling. She couldn’t stop herself. “You never questioned any of this, and when I started to you shut me down. The first time I tried to talk to you about how barbaric some of the Trinity Masters’ practices are you basically patted me on the head and dismissed me.”

Devon was shaking his head. “I don’t remember it like that.”

“Of course you don’t. Why would you? For you it was nothing, a throw-away conversation. For me…” Juliette felt suddenly weary. She went to the head of the stairs, descending a few steps so she could take a seat. “For me, that was the moment I realized that I mattered less to you than the Trinity Masters, and I always will.”

“That’s not true.”

“Spare me.” She rubbed her palms on her shins, curling into a ball for warmth. “I don’t have time for this. I have work to do.”

Devon didn’t respond, so she looked up. He had the heels of his hands pressed into his eye sockets. When he dropped his arms his face was haunted.

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?”

She shrugged. “Because my feelings didn’t matter.”

“Of course—”

“No, Devon. They didn’t. I joined the instant I turned eighteen with no idea what I was really committing to. My trinity was set. The fact that I grew up and started to see the flaws in our practices and resent everyone who didn’t share my feelings,” she motioned to him, “that’s
my
problem. And until now, there was not a damn thing I could do about it.”

Devon joined her on the steps. “My feelings for you haven’t changed.”

“Don’t you get it? They aren’t real.” Juliette swiped a hand angrily through the air and blinked back tears. “You never had any real choice.”

“You’re wrong.” Hard lines bracketed his mouth as he grimaced. “If that were true, I would have the same feelings for Rose that I do for you, but I don’t.”

“What?”

He cupped her face. “I love you, Juliette. Not Rose, not the Trinity Masters. I love
you
, and every time you walked away from me it broke my heart.”

“You don’t love me.” Her throat was tight. He couldn’t love her, because if he did it would make it so much harder to pretend she didn’t still love him. And she had gotten very good at pretending.

“Of course I do. I’m just not good at showing it. I was afraid.” He leaned forward and laid his head against hers. “I’m still afraid.”

In that moment, she realized he wasn’t the pillar of strength and duty she always assumed. He seemed weary and vulnerable. Juliette wrapped her arms around his shoulders, overcome by the need to comfort and protect him.

“There are things I needed—need—to tell you.” His voice was soft in her ear. “Those things prevented me from being completely honest with you, and when you started to act like you hated me…”

“I’ve never hated you. I wish I had, wish I did.”

“Don’t leave me, Jules.”

It was an old nickname, one he’d stopped using after that first meeting in Paris. She’d taken it as a sign that he now saw her as an adult, as a woman. It brought tears to her eyes, the way a familiar smell from a childhood home could.

She was saved from responding by Franco, who’d approached unnoticed and was holding a buzzing cell phone.

“Uh, someone’s phone keeps ringing.”

Devon glared at Franco, but then stood and took his phone. Franco murmured that he was sorry for interrupting. Devon looked at the screen, and in an instant the raw emotion etched on his face was hidden under his normal stoic expression.

“I have to take this.” He disappeared into the bedroom.

Franco hesitated then took a seat beside Juliette on the steps. He was dressed, but as he sat he stripped off his shirt and handed it to Juliette, who pulled it on.

“So you and Devon…”

Juliette huddled in on herself, weary from lack of sleep and emotional upheaval. She was still reeling from her conversation with Devon, so she answered Franco without much forethought.

“Devon and I were part of a trinity, along with a woman named Rose Hancock. Our families have been members since the beginning. My father decided it was time to unite the Adamses, Ashers and Hancocks.”

“Your father? I thought the Grand Master picked the trinities.”

“He does.” Juliette turned her head to stare at Franco.

“Oh. Ohhhh.” Franco nodded as he put it together. “That explains why you were the one sent to find me.”

“Actually, my father didn’t send me, because he’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.” Franco stroked her shoulder.

“It was a long time ago. He died before I was old enough to realize how twisted my upbringing was because of the choices he made for me.”

“If it wasn’t your father, who is the Grand Master?”

“The Grand Master’s identity is a secret to most people. They have a council they work with. Who the councilors are is also a secret.”

“Lots of secrets.”

“Yes.” She was fighting the urge to tell Franco who she was, to confide in him. He was a good listener, and he’d shown that, when needed, he could step up and take charge. He would be a good councilor, despite the fact that he knew nothing about the Trinity Masters.

Before she could decide what, if anything, to tell him, Devon emerged from the bedroom. He was fully dressed and his face was set in hard lines. “I have to go.”

Juliette nodded once, but didn’t look at him.

“Jules, I don’t
want
to go.” He grabbed her by the arms and hauled her up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “We’re not done. Not done with this conversation and not done with our relationship.”

She struggled under the weight of his complete focus. It still made her feel like the most important woman in the world. She tried to remind herself that she bowed to no one anymore. She could walk away. “That’s not your decision to make. It’s the Grand Master’s.”

“Then I’ll beg.” He kissed her hard and deep, leaving her breathless. “I’ll refuse any other
ménage
. I’d rather be expelled from the Trinity Masters than give up.”

He kissed her again, with enough force and intent that her head fell back. It was a
Gone with the Wind
kiss, but instead of anger it tasted of desperation. “Juliette Adams, I love you. I always have, and I always will. Don’t forget that.”

Then he was gone, taking the stairs two at a time while looking at his phone. The door opened then closed.

“You two have issues.”

Juliette looked at Franco, who was shaking his head ruefully. She burst out laughing.

“Yes, we do.” Juliette held out her hand. “I think it’s time you saw the Trinity Masters’ headquarters.”

Franco took her hand and climbed to his feet. “Further down the rabbit hole. Excellent.”

The Boston Public Library grand hallway had an elegant arched and illustrated roof, stone floors and the kind of echoing sense of history that all great buildings developed over time. It was surprisingly busy, though the noise level was a library-appropriate hush. Franco wanted to stop at the desk and speak to the librarians, to explore the stacks, but Juliette was forging ahead. Promising himself a return visit, he followed her to the elevator. They went to the top floor then snaked their way through several hallways, Juliette leading the way while toting a duffle bag. He was carrying his grandfather’s wood box.

By the time they reached the rare-book room, they were alone. A keypad protected the locked door. Juliette paused then stepped back. “You do it.”

“Me?”

“Yes. The code is three, three, three.”

“That’s easy to remember. And appropriate.”

The lock clicked and he opened the door, motioning Juliette to precede him in.

“Make sure you close it behind you.”

Franco shut the door, but if Juliette said anything else he didn’t hear it. The rare-book room was the stuff of his dreams. Tables supplied with boxes of cotton gloves begged visitors to select one of the carefully archived books and open them, revealing the secrets inside. Each shelf had a small plaque with the subject engraved on it. He gravitated towards one with diaries that had belonged to members of the semi-secret Masonic Temple.

“Franco… Franco… Francisco!”

“Huh?”

“You’re mumbling to yourself.” Juliette was fighting back a smile.

“This is fantastic. What an amazing collection. Who’s the lead curator?”

“The books are not why we’re here.”

Franco gasped like an actor in a soap opera. “Bite your tongue, woman. The books are always why we’re here.”

“I promise, what I’m about to show you is more interesting than these.”

“Impossible.”

“Really?” She motioned to a section of wall. He stepped closer and discovered a triquetra inscribed into the plaster. Below the symbol were three words. “
Mitimur in Vetitum
.”

“I didn’t take Latin,” he said.

“It translates to ‘We strive for the forbidden’.” Juliette set down her bag, placed both hands on the symbol and pushed. A door-size section of wall popped in, and then slid to the side, disappearing into a pocket in the wall.

“Come on.” Juliette stepped into the small, dark space. Franco joined her. The door closed behind them, sealing them in total darkness.

Before he had time to seriously start to worry, a light clicked on.

The room was as small as a closet and rather unremarkable, with walls of paneled wood, the floor the same carpet as the outer room.

“Usually whoever helped recruit you would bring you in the first time. After that, if you need to come here, you’ll get a letter from the Grand Master. Usually the letter will have a box number on it.” She motioned to the wood paneling. There were numbers etched into the wood, seemingly at random.

Juliette pressed her finger against a number. A small section of paneling popped open.

“What would be inside?”

“Usually more instructions or a key.”

“And the note would have instructions for the next place to go, like a treasure hunt?”

“Not quite.” Juliette pushed on the side of the back wall and yet another hidden door opened, revealing a narrow elevator.

“A secret elevator?”

She hit the single call button. “Yes.” Once they were inside, the elevator descended automatically.

“We’re going down.” Franco tried to keep his voice calm, but a mixture of excitement and fear made it hard to keep his cool.

“To the subbasement.”

The elevator door opened and a long, wide marble hallway stretched out in front of them. Columns supported the high-arched ceiling, which mimicked the grand hallway above.

“Welcome to the home of the Trinity Masters.”

Franco’s footsteps echoed endlessly off the stone as he followed her into the belly of the beast.

“No one knows this is here?”

“Only members.”

“But surely the library staff realize?”

“The head of the library and many of the senior staff, as well as most of the board of trustees, are members. The Trinity Masters helped construct the library.”