Page 119 of Beloved Sacrifice

The ritual and niceties were a show, a bit of playacting. Because this wasn’t a gathering of friends.

And the Grand Master was not going to like what he was about to say.

Marek sipped strong, sweet coffee as Juliette Adams took a seat across from him. Her cool, aloof posture and expression was somewhat marred by the bruises that were starting to show.

“I hired you,” she started.

Marek nodded.

“And yet I found you breaking into our headquarters, and if I heard correctly, planning to steal something.”

Marek nodded again.

Her lips thinned into a line, and Devon came to stand at her shoulder, just behind her chair. The threat was clear.

Marek took another sip.

“Care to explain what was going on?” Juliette’s voice was still cool and flat, but her eyes sparkled with irritation heading toward anger.

“You sent me to find and save Rose Hancock.”

“I know that.”

“You didn’t tell me that you planned to execute her once I brought her back to you.”

“I wouldn’t…” Juliette shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Really? It’s my understanding that her,” Marek had to search for a word, “partner was killed, and you were an accomplice to murder and conspired to thwart justice by disposing of the remains.”

“He was shot while breaking and entering. It was self-defense on the part of the shooter.” Juliette didn’t meet his eyes or address his comment directly.

“Rose is very certain that returning to Boston means her death at your hands.” He set the cup down, hard enough that the clink of ceramic on wood was startling. “I would never have accepted the job if you’d told me I was playing bounty hunter, not rescuer. I believe in justice, Juliette, and you don’t seem to be in the business of justice.”

“I saw her get kidnapped,” Devon said.

“Be that as it may, she was not being held prisoner.” Speaking the lie hurt. He didn’t like to lie, but the situation between Rose and Weston had been so messy and complex—and built on false assumptions—that he felt saying he’d been holding her against her will would have focused on the wrong aspect of what he’d found at that little cottage in Sussex.

“We didn’t know Weston Anderson was alive,” Devon said.

“Tell me, did you search for him when he disappeared?”

Juliette froze. “I wasn’t the Grand Master at the time.”

“Very well.” Marek picked up his cup. “Now that we’ve established that our previous contract is null and void—”

Devon started to retort, but Franco put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“—we can establish a new relationship.”

There was a beat of silence, then Franco pulled out a chair and sat down. “A folder. You were looking for a folder? What folder? Why?”

Marek regarded the other man. “You have it?”

“Yes.”

“It seems to me that the best possible course of action is to join forces.”

Franco nodded in apparent excitement. “Yes, yes. Information. Go.”

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