Page 3 of Beloved Sacrifice

“That’s it?” Sebastian asked.

Tasha regarded him with a flat look.

“Thank you, Tasha. If you could give us this K&R specialist’s name, I would appreciate it.

Tasha inclined her head. “Yes, Grand Master.”

Juliette pulled up the hood of her single-breasted black cape coat. There were gloves tucked into the small inside pocket, but she debated putting them on. In the end, it was the cold more than a need for dramatic mystery that had her pulling them on.

Devon leaned forward and spoke quietly to the driver. The driver nodded, his shaggy, kinky hair bobbing in the light from the dash. The driver pulled out a phone and tapped out a text.

Juliette looked out the limo’s window, trying to calm her nerves before the meeting.

Only because she knew what to look for was she able to spot the people who were moving in response to the messages. Two shadows detached from a wall of the library, climbing into the car parked in front of their limo. They weren’t going to this meeting without protection. Living with a CIA agent was an education.

Three years ago, Juliette had known what she was doing—she was helping people who needed it, using her own personal resources and those of the Trinity Masters to create effective, meaningful change. She’d rebelled against the Trinity Masters and her father’s legacy, and the betrothal that had shaped her life.

Then her brother Harrison had been forced to step down, and she’d assumed the mantle of the Trinity Masters. In a moment, the life she’d thought she had was gone, replaced by the incredible power of the Grand Master. But that had come with revelations that changed everything. She’d learned that she had unwittingly been a CIA asset, betrayed by her best friend Sebastian, and by Devon—the man she’d loved, hated, and loved again.

She’d taken on the role of the Grand Master planning to make changes, to shed light on the pockets of darkness. Instead, she had uncovered secrets that had been buried. Secrets that should have remained in the shadows.

The enemy had a name—the purists—and now they knew who was part of the shadowy sect.

“Shall we?” Devon said.

“Franco.” She looked at her other husband.

Franco gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll see you at home.”

Sebastian wasn’t in the limo. Her third counselor, and best friend, couldn’t be rational about Rose, so she hadn’t brought him to the meeting.

Juliette turned to look at Devon, watching his profile. The revelation that Rose was one of the purists had taken a toll on him. He and Rose were the same age and they’d been in the same class at the exclusive school they’d all attended. Juliette had been jealous of Rose—the older, poised, elegant girl had always seemed Devon’s match, while Juliette had been gangly and awkward, especially around Devon, whom she’d had a painful crush on.

The revelation that Rose was a member of the purists had hit Devon hard. Finding out what had happened to Rose, what she’d lived through, had been even harder. Rose had been raped and tortured for years by the Andersons. She’d spent holiday breaks with the Andersons in the Pacific Northwest, then returned to school on the East Coast and smiled and pretended everything was okay.

Juliette knew that Devon was tormented by images of the teenage Rose sitting beside him in class, hurting and scared but hiding it, not trusting Devon enough to tell him anything.

Devon needed to be pulled out of the darkness, yet here she was, dragging him further into the shadows.

When they reached their destination, the driver, an agent in training at Langley, who had been commandeered along with the rest of his training class to help with this meeting, turned to Devon.

“Sir, the lobby is clear.”

“The target?”

“In place.”

“Thank you. Good job, Washington.”

“Thank you, sir.” The young agent flashed a smile, his teeth white and predatory in the dark.

Devon opened the door on his side and slid out of the car without looking at Juliette. She shivered, cold skating up and down her back. Her heart lurched and she closed her eyes, the weight of it all seeming to press her into the seat.

Her door opened, and Devon held out a hand. She placed her gloved hands in his, letting him help her out of the car. Cold wind blasted off Boston Harbor and she was glad for the hood and the gloves. Devon tucked her hand over his arm.

“Devon…” Juliette wasn’t sure what she could say. What she would say.

“Do you want to turn back?” His jaw clenched. “Do you want to leave her?”

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