Page 110 of Beloved Sacrifice

Chapter Eighteen

Juliette sat in her office, staring at the wall in front of her without seeing it. Marek Lee had gone off the radar. They hadn’t heard a peep from him since he’d left the States in search of Rose. Which made Devon testy and her nervous.

She’d convinced Franco she needed some time alone, so he’d agreed to work from home while she came to her office—the Grand Master’s office—deep under the Boston Public Library. Devon was at his office at work. No doubt he had needed the same time out. They’d talked of nothing but Rose for days. The longer they went without word from Marek, the more stressed out they all became.

Juliette ran her finger over the folio, tracing the word, “Admiralty.”

The Masters’ Admiralty.

Marek had mentioned it, dropped the bomb without realizing its impact.

Juliette hadn’t told Devon and Franco about the other society. She wasn’t sure what was holding her back. She usually told them everything. But this…

This wasn’t the first time since she’d become Grand Master that she’d felt completely out of her depth, but it was the first time she’d felt out of control.

Until she got a handle on what they were up against, she would remain quiet.

She bent her head and closed her eyes. She was so tired. So damn tired.

“What are you doing down here?” Weston had panicked when he heard footsteps, then calmed down when he’d heard Rose calling his name.

“A couple of members of the Trinity Masters showed up for the church service. They know me, so we decided it was better to come with you, to help you find your way in the dark. We can go up through one of the other entrances, still provide a distraction,” Rose said.

“Then let’s go.” Weston started forward.

He didn’t want to admit he was glad for that help. He’d been struggling to find his footing. With Marek’s hand on his elbow, he felt steadier. He could move quicker.

He stopped at the intersection of three tunnels and consulted his mental map. He hadn’t been down here in a long time, but the information was there, buried somewhere in his brain.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Rose asked.

“I’m sure he remembers.” Marek’s voice was confident and calm. The only light came from Marek’s cell phone flashlight. He held it up, casting a feeble cone of white light in front of them.

The walls of the tunnels were stone and brick, as Weston remembered. In some places, the floor was stone, in others it was wood. They trod carefully on the wood. The tunnels weren’t all one level. There were layers of corridors, and wood floors probably meant there was a tunnel underneath them. If the wood gave way, they’d end up taking a straight drop. That kind of fall would most likely be deadly.

He headed down the right-hand tunnel, then stopped a few yards farther on. There was a small alcove in the wall. He stepped into the alcove and looked up. Hot damn, he’d remembered the way after all. Planting his back on one side of the alcove and his feet on the other he used a chimney climb maneuver to work his way up.

“Uh.” Marek cleared his throat. “Where are you going?”

“Hidden passage,” he grunted. This was harder than he remembered. He’d been a lot younger when he’d last tried this. “There’s no roof to this alcove. It’s like a vertical access tunnel.”

He kept climbing up, passing into a tight, vertical chimney. It was only a few minutes before he emerged into the hall above.

He stuck his head into the hole he’d just clambered out of. “I’m up. That was the dangerous part. Can you two find your way out?” Enough time had passed that they’d probably be safe enough to head back to the church. If they were going to provide a distraction, they needed to get a move on.

Marek and Rose exchanged quiet words, then Rose called up, “You must be kidding.”

Damn. “Okay, I’ll come back down.” He swung his legs into the hole.

“No, she means that we’re not going to let you have all the fun. We’re coming up.”

“I thought you two were going to be a distraction?” he asked.

“That was before I knew we were going to play Indiana Jones.” Rose’s voice was artificially cheerful.

Scared, he realized. She was scared.

Of course she was scared. He was asking her to walk into the fire just to be a distraction. Weston was sure Marek would have protected her, but there wouldn’t have been much he could have done if that fucker Devon pulled a gun and shot her on sight.

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