Page 108 of Beloved Sacrifice

Marek frowned. “I’m surprised a Knight would say something like that.”

Weston winced. Tristan had some insecurity issues about his pedigree. Marek implying he wasn’t a good knight was going to severely piss him off.

Tristan’s expression was blank, but Weston could see his friend’s jaw muscle clench.

“The fate of these people does matter, even if they have passed away. Any descendants they have, any legacy they left—those things matter. They deserve to have their story told.”

Tristan turned back to the TV. “Two hours. You’ve got two hours before I call the Admiral and your grandmother, not necessarily in that order, and bring their full wrath down on your heads.” He sighed and turned off the TV. “But you’re going to tell me where you’re going.”

It was as good as Weston was going to get, and he knew it. “We’ll be back by then,” he said. “You can find us at the Boston Public Library.”

“Care to be more specific?”

Rose exchanged a glance with Weston, who gave her a subtle nod. “Here’s a clue for you, Blondie. Nitimur in Vetitum.”

“We strive for the forbidden?” Tristan asked after pausing for a moment to translate.

“I’m impressed with your Latin,” Rose remarked, obviously surprised.

Tristan crossed his arms. “What does that have to do with the library? How can I use that piece of information?”

“It’s a puzzle. It will give you something to work on for a couple of hours. See you at the library.” Rose gave him a brief finger wave and Weston decided to follow her lead. The quicker the exit, the better their chances of getting out before Tristan reconsidered. Marek stopped to say something more to Tristan but then followed them out.

Once they hit the street, Marek raised his hand, waving down a taxi. Weston asked that they be taken to Trinity Church and they were on their way.

“The church?” Rose asked. “You aren’t using the entrance at 500 Boylston?”

Weston shook his head. “You said Juliette was aware of that one. Besides, it’s probably still impassible since your foray into mayhem and murder.”

“I suspect they’re aware of all the entrances at this point. The woman, the one Christian married, is an architect and a descendent of the people who built the tunnels.” Rose spat out the name Christian.

“Then you and Marek will have to do a good job distracting Juliette.”

They pulled up alongside Copley Square and all climbed out. Marek, who’d had a stack of money inside his suitcase, paid the driver. Cold wind tunneled down the canyons made by the buildings, and beside him, Rose shivered.

They walked up the steps to the church. There was an evening service going on, so they mumbled something about attending it and slid inside without paying the entrance fee that tourists were charged.

Weston ignored the sense of deja vu and slipped along the wall behind the last pew, and then up the side aisle. The entrance was located under a floor tile in a small room in the front corner of the church. They slid inside. A few people glanced their way. Weston winced. Hopefully none of them would notice when only Marek and Rose exited.

Rose touched Marek’s arm, guiding him until they stood in the open doorway that gave access from the main sanctuary to this room. Weston crouched, found the correct tile, and hit the hidden mechanism to open it.

He turned and got his feet into position on the rungs of the ladder. “Rose, you said Caden hid the folder. Do you have any idea where?” If he couldn’t find the diaries, he’d have to look for that.

She turned slightly to face him and shook her head, and when her haunted look returned, he realized he’d inadvertently triggered another bad memory.

“Good luck,” Marek murmured without turning.

Weston started down the ladder, pulling the trap door closed on top of himself.

Rose tried to look casual. Behind her, she heard the tile clack back into place. It seemed horribly loud to her, but no one looked over. The scattering of attendees all looked peaceful and relaxed. The pastor’s voice was low and melodious.

She wished she could be as peaceful and relaxed as they looked. She was dreading walking into the library with Marek. It had been her idea, and it was a good idea, but she wished she’d never suggested it.

They’d actually gained time with the flight—landing ten minutes before they took off—due to the time zones. But her body was telling her it had been a really, really long day and she would have happily stayed in the hotel room.

Despite gaining hours, it was late in Boston. That meant there was a possibility that no one would be in the library. That was a hopeful thought.

She was gathering up her courage when the doors to the sanctuary opened and two men entered, walking quickly and quietly up the center aisle. Rose caught sight of their faces as they slipped into a pew.

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