Page 118 of Beloved Sacrifice

Chapter Nineteen

Devon opened the door and ushered them in. “Here you go.”

It might have been an invitation, if Devon hadn’t ushered with the hand holding the gun. He’d pulled it out as they’d neared the tunnel’s exit, no doubt ready to stop her and Weston if they decided to make a break for it. They may have hugged it out, but that didn’t change that fact, or the past.

Rose slid into the room first. It was a small room with empty built-in bookshelves along the far wall. The only furniture was an elegant dining table and six chairs. Clearly it was meant to be used for private meals or meetings.

Weston followed her in and Devon closed the door behind them. There was a heavy thunk as the key turned in the lock and then they were alone.

Rose looked around the elegant room. “Oh good, I was worried for a minute that an entire day would go by when I wasn’t being held as someone’s captive.”

Weston yanked out a chair and slumped into it. “I’m sorry, Brown Eyes. This whole thing went to hell.”

Rose went to Weston, nudged him to sit up, and then sat on his lap. She stroked her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, Wes.”

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. “Is it? We’ve lost our surprise advantage.”

They’d lose more than that, because Rose knew that her time was limited. But she wasn’t going to tell Weston that. He couldn’t take any more guilt.

“No, we haven’t,” she half lied. “They don’t know exactly what we were looking for. We still have information they don’t have. We can use that.”

“If we use that to get ourselves out of here, then Juliette has the information.”

Rose fell silent. She laid her cheek on Wes’s silky hair. “Then we let her deal with them, and we run for it.”

Weston stroked her back. “That was our plan once before.”

“That plan was made by children. We’re smarter now.”

He laced his fingers with hers. “We are. And we have each other.”

That statement fell heavily, because it touched on the elephant in the room. Marek.

Rose couldn’t help but think back to the amazing sex they’d had on the plane. She knew better than to think good sex and a loving touch meant anything.

But she couldn’t stop herself from sighing.

Weston must have known what she was thinking. “We made a mistake, trusting him.”

“I know.”

“I thought…” Weston trailed off.

“I know,” she said again.

“We told him everything.” Now Weston’s voice was a growl. “If he tells Juliette everything, we’re fucked.”

Rose swallowed hard. If Marek betrayed them—though she was cynically sure he would call it “doing the right thing”—they wouldn’t be running anywhere. Rose had done some nasty stuff in the days after Caden’s death, and the fact that she was half out of her mind with grief was a reason, not an excuse, in her opinion. Plus, there was the fact that she was one of the purists. If Juliette cleaned house, she would need to eliminate Rose too. So even if she got a pass for burning down a building and trying to kill a few people, she’d betrayed the Trinity Masters by keeping the secrets of the purists.

Rose swallowed hard. This was the end for her. Weston hadn’t ever been formally inducted into the Trinity Masters, so technically he wasn’t bound by their rules. But still, he’d betrayed the Trinity Masters. And if Juliette found out that they’d been planning to use the Masters’ Admiralty against the purists without telling her, she would be livid.

Then again, maybe Juliette didn’t know who the Masters’ Admiralty were. Maybe that…

But Marek knew. Marek could, maybe would, tell her.

Weston had wrapped his arms loosely around her. Rose pulled them tighter, wanted to feel the pressure of his embrace. Then she closed her eyes and imprinted the memory of this moment in her mind. No matter what happened, she would have this moment with him.

Marek accepted the cup of coffee Franco handed him. It was a bit late for coffee, but the other man had proudly opened a cabinet in the Grand Masters’ office to show off a large, complex expresso machine. There had been a water kettle tucked in beside it, but Franco had been so enthusiastic about coffee, Marek hadn’t dared ask for tea.

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