Page 1 of Forgotten Promise

Chapter One

Boston

One hour and forty-five minutes since the Grand Master was kidnapped

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Walking into a dangerous crisis felt like coming home. She trusted pain and catastrophe more than joy and contentment, and in many ways, this was normal to her. More normal than the peaceful existence she’d been enjoying this past year as a happily married woman with two wonderful husbands.

Rose sized up the situation and then turned to her small clutch, which she’d dropped onto a chair when she entered the suite. Ten minutes ago, she’d made a dramatic entrance into the hotel—running through the lobby in a ball gown with two tuxedo-clad men at her heels. Ideally, she wouldn’t have drawn attention to herself, but that was the sort of dramatic moment that people noticed.

Luckily, the front desk clerk who’d watched her didn’t know she was the one responsible for setting the hotel on fire several years ago. She’d been in a dark place for, well, most of her life, only now beginning to experience a calm, peaceful happiness.

She glanced behind her at the man who, like her, had found his own happy ending, except now…now that was falling apart.

Rose finished digging the small pill case out of her clutch and raced over to Franco Santiago. He was covered in blood, but when she first approached him, he’d assured her that none of it was his. She didn’t fully believe him, but there didn’t seem to be any fresh blood, which meant he wasn’t actively bleeding. Now if she could just get him to stop panicking long enough to provide coherent information, they could begin crisis management.

“Open,” she said to Franco.

The Irishman seated beside Franco eyed her warily. Rose didn’t know who he was, and as far as she was concerned, he was their primary suspect. A suspicious nature was one of Rose’s best qualities. But questioning the Irishman had to wait. Because until Franco could give them the whole story, all they had were the frantic calls that had brought her, Sebastian, and Lachlan to the hotel.

Franco looked at her, opened his mouth to say something, and she popped a pill in.

“Swallow.”

He grimaced, but she saw his throat work.

“What was that tablet?” the Irishman asked suspiciously.

“Who are you again?” Rose countered.

“The Archivist. Colum O’Connor.”

“He’s Masters’ Admiralty.” Lachlan Howard tapped his wrist piece to end the call he’d been on.

Rose glanced around the room again, assessing who was here. Besides her, there was Sebastian, who held the same position within the society she did, and Lachlan, a Warrior Scholar—one of a group of on-call security professionals. Each Warrior Scholar was former military, with refined and dangerous skill sets. But by day, they were graduate students, most in fields entirely unrelated to their previous occupations. Rose had heavily encouraged Juliette to create the Warrior Scholar corp.

Juliette…

Rose looked at Franco.

Juliette was Franco’s wife, and she, along with Franco’s other spouse, Devon, had just been kidnapped.

It was terrifying and horrible…except it was even worse than that.

Because Juliette Adams wasn’t just a humanitarian activist and Boston socialite. Juliette was the Grand Master of the Trinity Masters. Leader of America’s oldest and most powerful secret society. The identity of the Grand Master was a closely guarded secret; in fact, Rose wasn’t even sure if Lachlan had known exactly who the Grand Master was before tonight.

Juliette and Devon’s kidnapping wasn’t just an attack on Franco’s spouses; it was probably an attack on the Trinity Masters itself.

“Right, so…” the Archivist said, pulling her attention back to the one person in the room whose presence Rose didn’t understand.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“Wait, Price is in the elevator,” Sebastian cut in.

Rose didn’t see why they had to wait. Price Bennett was, like Sebastian and Rose, one of the Grand Master’s counselors. They served as advisers most of the time, fixers when needed, and their identities within the Trinity Masters were also secret. Price was the one counselor Juliette had retained from her brother Harrison’s tenure as Grand Master, but Price had taken a passive role within the council, acting more as a form of institutional memory.

“Are we safe?” the Archivist asked.

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