Honor’s Revenge: Masters’ Admiralty, book 4

by Mari Carr

  “He’s…he’s alive. Out of surgery and in stable condition.” She looked at Walt. “The surgeon said your quick thinking, your actions, saved his life.”

  Walt, appearing uncomfortable with his praise, merely nodded.

  “Thank God,” Sylvia said.

  Juliette turned to Hugo, the cold look returning to her eyes. “This is my case now. Get out of the country. Wait—where’s the other one?”

  Before Hugo could reply, the door opened again.

  A large man stood in the door, his very presence alarming, thanks to his size.

  There was only one person Hugo knew who was that big.

  “Quel bordel.”

  Or, as the English would say, what a clusterfuck.

  Eric Ericsson walked into the private room like a general stepping onto the battlefield. Before the door closed, Hugo spotted two Spartan Guards standing sentry just outside the room.

  “No. It’s still my case,” Eric said.

  Juliette whirled around, ready to do battle. “This is a private room.”

  “And yet here I am. Since this mission went to shit, I decided to make myself part of the conversation.”

  Juliette’s shoulders stiffened. “Ah. So you’re Eric.”

  “Pleasure to meet you.” Eric smiled and held out a hand. It was like watching a wolf trying to pretend it was a puppy.

  Juliette raised one eyebrow. “You forget where you are, Fleet Admiral. Leave.”

  “I know perfectly well where I am, Grand Master.” Eric stressed her title. “Alicia Rutherford has information I need. And I’m not leaving here without it…or her.”

  Juliette crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “She shot my husband. That means she’s mine.”

  For the briefest of moments, Eric’s eyes softened. “I was sorry to hear about Franco.”

  “What happens to my husband is none of your concern. You have no right to be here. Because I want to maintain a…working…relationship with you, I will allow you to take your people and leave.”

  “Who the hell is this dude?” Langston murmured to his brothers, who both shrugged.

  “Too many damn characters in this play,” Oscar replied. “At least she’s getting rid of the Europeans for us.”

  Eric walked over to Oscar, calling him by name. “You must be Oscar.” Then he looked at the other brothers, correctly identifying them as well. “Langston. Walt.”

  “You’re starting to piss me off, Eric,” Juliette said darkly.

  Eric ignored the Grand Master, turning to Sylvia. “And you are the poet. Sylvia. I’ve read your work. It’s very good. I like the way you marry drawings to your poetry. Like your views on romance, love, sex. Very…inspirational.”

  Sylvia looked shocked. “Thank you.” Then she turned her gaze to Hugo. “This is your fleet admiral? The leader of the Masters’ Admiralty?”

  Merde. She’d drawn his leader’s attention to him.

  “Dr. Marchand,” Eric said. “Where’s Lancelot?”

  Hugo didn’t have a fucking clue. He hadn’t seen Lancelot in hours. He wished that fact didn’t terrify him so much. “He went after Alicia.”

  “Well, given how badly you two fucked this up so far, Alicia probably caught him and is turning him into a skinsuit. Would have been smarter to send goddamned Laurel and Hardy to collect the woman.”

  Oscar laughed, prompting Sylvia to shoot her brother a dirty look. “Don’t be a dick.”

  Eric looked at Sylvia. “You, I like.”

  Voices outside distracted them.

  Hugo managed his first real deep breath since Lancelot had left the safe house the second he recognized his voice.

  “I don’t give a shit what the fleet admiral said. He’s going to want—”

  Eric pulled the door open. “Get in here.” He reached out and yanked Lancelot into the room. “Who are you? Doesn’t matter. You get in here, too.” Sebastian, standing behind Lancelot, looked ready to take on the guards at the door if they didn’t let him into the room where Juliette was.

  Lancelot held out a set of car keys to one of the guards. “Dark gray Buick. Rental. Parking garage, level three. Boot.”

  “What’s in the car?” one of the guards asked, accepting the keys.

  “A fun surprise,” Lancelot said.

  Eric nodded at the guards. “I love surprises. You two guard the car. No one goes near it.”

  The Spartan Guard were commissioned with keeping the fleet admiral safe no matter what, so neither of them looked pleased about being ordered to leave their post. Hugo could only imagine how difficult that task was with Eric in command. The Viking wasn’t the sort of man to welcome bodyguards. A fact that was confirmed when he muttered “annoying fuckers” as the Spartan Guard headed to the parking garage.

  Sebastian glanced around the room, his gaze assessing. “Grand Master, are you all right? I thought you’d still be with Franco.” There was a faint rebuke in the words.

  “Babysitters, am I right?” Eric said to Juliette.

  She blinked, but ignored the fleet admiral. “I came to invite our guests to leave.” The words were tight.

  “Found him in the lobby,” Sebastian said to Juliette, jerking his head toward Lancelot. “Devon’s flight landed. He should be here soon.”

  Juliette nodded. “Good.”

  Sylvia darted across the room, leaping into Lancelot’s arms. “I was so scared.” She followed that pronouncement up with an unabashed, affectionate, openmouthed kiss, one that the fleet admiral wouldn’t mistake as merely friendly.

  Her brothers growled. Especially when Hugo followed her, smiling widely despite everything else.

  He embraced the knight with a strong hug. “I am glad to see you,” Hugo said. “When so many hours passed…”

  A shadow clouded Lancelot’s eyes, the look belying his softly spoken, “I’m okay.”

  Eric sighed and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Like herding cats. Cats in heat.”

  Juliette snorted, seemingly despite herself. “An accurate description.”

  Eric turned to face the Grand Master and, for a split second, something like mutual respect passed between them.

  Of course, the look was fleeting.

  Juliette’s gaze hardened. “Now that you’ve found the other one, I can tell both of them, including you,” Juliette looked at Eric, “to leave. Now.”

  “Can I assume that Alicia Rutherford is in the car?” Eric asked.

  Lancelot nodded.

  “Alive or dead?”

  “Alive,” Lancelot said shortly.

  “You didn’t fuck something up? I’m actually proud of you.” Eric clapped his hands together. “Then we’re done here. Let’s go.”

  Sebastian stepped in front of the door, blocking their path. “Not so fast.”

  “Your boss told us to leave,” Eric pointed out.

  Juliette narrowed her eyes. “You have the woman who shot Franco. I want her.”

  “Well, you can’t have her.”

  “Bullshit. My other husband will be here soon. If you want to spend some time being questioned at a CIA black site, he can make that happen.”

  “Big threats,” Eric said darkly. “You two are going to stop us?”

  “By my count,” Langston interjected, “there are six of us and three of you. I like those odds.”

  “You know, I don’t believe physical violence is going to solve anything here. How about we all just use our words?” Sylvia suggested.

  “But physical violence is so much fun,” Eric muttered.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Oscar pushed to his feet. “Secret societies, crazy English teachers, shootouts at the O.K. Corral? Somebody tell me why the fuck I left my lab for this.”

  Juliette turned to the brothers. “The Masters’ Admiralty is having some trouble. Someone keeps killing their members, leaders even, and for months they’ve been unable to stop their opponent.”

  “Tread lightly, Juliette,” Eric warned.


  “And the bad guy is…Sylvia’s old English teacher?” Walt asked gently.

  Sylvia shook her head. “No. Alicia was working with, maybe for, the man who attacked them. He brainwashed her. He’s like a cult leader, and the purpose of the cult is to destroy the Masters’ Admiralty.”

  Eric’s gaze sharpened. “She told you that?”

  “Yes. Alicia is a strong person. A good person, but this man changed her. He broke her.”

  Eric stepped closer to Sylvia. “Did she give you a name?”

  Sylvia shook her head. “No. She simply made comparisons, called him Leon, Francisco, and Bhagat.”

  “She gave me a name,” Lancelot said. “I…talked to her for a bit.”

  Something about the way Lancelot said it made Hugo think far more had happened, that maybe Lancelot had been forced to do things that went against his morals.

  “And?” Eric prompted.

  “Varangian. She called him Varangian.”

  “And why did she shoot Franco?” Juliette asked. “If you’ve drawn us into your war, we need to know.”

  “He wasn’t the target.” Lancelot looked over at Sylvia, his gaze troubled. “You were. Alicia said Varangian told her to come back. To eliminate you. Said she’d told you too much, and you were a danger to their cause.”

  “If she thought you were worth shooting, maybe you’d better come with us. How would you like an all-expenses-paid trip to Europe?” Eric asked.

  “Paris?” Sylvia’s eyes lit up.

  Walt shook his head as he looked at Hugo. “She’s been obsessed with Paris ever since taking your damn class at Northwestern.”

  “Maybe don’t leave with the crazy people?” Oscar threw his hands in the air.

  “Sylvia is an American. And on my short list for recruitment,” Juliette said. “Something you knew when you sent them. They broke my trust the minute they talked to her.”

  Lancelot stepped next to her, placing his arm around her shoulders. Hugo claimed the other side. Neither spoke, but they’d staked a claim just the same.

  Eric looked at Sylvia, considering her and them for a long, tense minute. “If you come with us, you can have those two.” He pointed at Lancelot and Hugo.

  “I’m sorry?” Sylvia asked.

  “You like them? I’m not into dudes, but they’re both hot. If you like them, you can have them. Come with us. I’ll make you a member of the Masters’ Admiralty, and you can marry them. If you help us with this teacher of yours.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Juliette asked, her voice angry. “How dare you come in here and presume to recruit one of my members away from me!”

  Eric didn’t relent. “Let’s just say you owe me one. I haven’t forgotten about Marek.”

  Juliette snorted. “Sore loser. I’ve extended her an invitation to the Trinity Masters. She’s mine.”

  “She’s not yours yet. She hasn’t agreed to join,” Hugo said, his heart racing upon hearing the fleet admiral’s offer. It sounded too good to be true. In the blink of an eye, everything Hugo had wanted, yet thought impossible, was being handed to them on a silver platter.

  Eric looked at the brothers. “You want to come, too? I can get you hot wives. Hot husbands and wives. Whatever you like.”

  Juliette whirled, facing the Hayden triplets. “You recall my offer earlier. Say the word and I can make all of that a reality. That and more. You want to change the world, don’t you? I can help you do that. I know you could do it on your own, but join and let me help you. Also, I don’t barter with my people like a barbarian.”

  “But we could get the hot wives?” Langston asked.

  Oscar put his head in his hands, and Walt slapped a hand over his brother’s mouth.

  Sylvia looked at Hugo, and then Lancelot. Hugo could see her answer…knew he wasn’t going to like it.

  “Sylvia,” he started, but she held up her hand.

  “I want to help, Fleet Admiral. Want to make sure that Alicia and this man never hurt another person. The things she said that night, the things she believed. Her brain has been poisoned. This man—”

  “The mastermind,” Hugo said.

  “Varangian,” Lancelot murmured.

  “He needs to be stopped. He’s evil incarnate. But I don’t expect anything in return for my help. I will do it because it’s the right thing to do.”

  Hugo’s chest tightened. Everything she said was pure Sylvia, was what made him love her. Even as she threw away their chance at happiness, at forever.

  Juliette looked at her. “You don’t have to decide this very moment, Sylvia. I will allow Eric and your companions to stay for a few days so you can work with them. As a matter of fact,” she turned a charming smile on Hugo, “Dr. Marchand, Mr. Knight, if you’d like to stay on permanently, the Trinity Masters would welcome you.”

  “How about no? Nice try, Blondie,” Eric said. “Paris, Sylvia. You can have Paris, and these two.”

  “If they love you,” Juliette said, “they’ll leave the Masters’ Admiralty, come to America, and join you in the Trinity Masters.”

  “They don’t get to leave. No one does. Membership is for life,” Eric said darkly.

  “This is the strangest negotiation in history,” Walt mused.

  “You are not going with them,” Oscar declared. “You don’t even know them! You’re not some damned Disney princess.”

  “If the Disney princesses got with two dudes, I might actually watch those movies,” Eric said.

  Langston groaned, turning on Oscar. “Dammit, Bro. You know better than to tell our baby sister she’s not doing something. Why don’t you just say ‘I dare you to run away with the crazy people.’”

  “I’m not stupid,” Sylvia said. “And I’m not going to accept people as payment for services. But I will go with you. Help you. Also, I want to see Paris.”

  Eric looked at Hugo and Lancelot. “You two better be good enough in bed to make her stay. Should I draw you diagrams? You need to cry and be vulnerable, girls love that shit. But then also be total cavemen. Trust me, I had two wives.”

  “I am deeply uncomfortable with this conversation,” Walt declared.

  “He had two wives. I’m just saying…” Langston looked around.

  “And they were both hot,” Eric told him. “Offer still stands.”

  “Langston, do not make me call Mama and tell her you’re actin’ a fool,” Oscar said.

  “Fleet Admiral, I’d like to talk to Hugo and Sylvia alone a minute,” Lancelot said. “There are things they need—they deserve—to know before she considers your offer.”

  Hugo closed his eyes. Merde. First Sylvia, now Lancelot was standing in the way of their own happiness.

  Sylvia looked at Lancelot suspiciously. “More secrets?”

  “Ah, good point. Okay, we should clear out. This is going to get ugly.” Eric turned to the door.

  “We’re not leaving her,” Oscar declared.

  “Go away,” Sylvia told them. Walt placed his hand on Oscar’s shoulder, leading him to the exit.

  “We’ll be just outside,” Langston warned Hugo and Lancelot. The three of them left, closing the door behind them.

  Juliette and Sebastian shared a glance. “Sylvia, do you want me to stay?” Juliette asked.

  “No. I trust them.”

  Sebastian shot one last look at Eric before speaking to Juliette. “I figure this is the part where Franco asks if we won or lost that round.”

  Juliette smiled at the thought of her husband. “Three out of four ain’t bad. And I kept the moral high ground.”

  “Franco will be proud,” Sebastian said. “Devon, however, will be sad that you weren’t playing to win at any cost.”

  “Oh, I still intend to win.” Juliette stopped in front of the door and raised one eyebrow at Eric.

  He opened the door for her, bowing. “Grand Master.”

  “Why thank you, Fleet Admiral. Join me, won’t you? It’s time to talk about how you’re going to make amends, and ensure what h
appened here never happens again.”

  Eric sighed, following her out. “If you’re asking for sexual favors, I’m okay with that.”

  “Devon’s going to shoot you.” Sebastian pulled the door closed as he exited.

  The last thing Hugo heard was Juliette saying, “No, I have a better idea.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lancelot sank down in one of the chairs, trying to find a way to confess the last—biggest—secret. While Hugo assured Sylvia there’d been nothing more to tell, Lancelot hadn’t been able to make the same promise.

  He’d been lying to both of them since the beginning, but it had to stop here.

  Now.

  Lancelot had seen the look of hope, of joy, in Hugo’s eyes when the fleet admiral mentioned marrying the three of them in order to secure Sylvia’s membership.

  Eric’s reasons for extending the offer may have been based on revenge for losing Marek to the Trinity Masters, or as a bribe to get Sylvia to join, but from where Lancelot stood, the fleet admiral had handed him a dream come true.

  One he couldn’t accept.

  Because Sylvia and Hugo wanted Lancelot.

  And he didn’t exist.

  Sylvia knelt in front of him while Hugo took the seat next to him.

  “What is it, Lancelot?” she asked.

  He winced, hearing that name on her lips. “There’s a reason Eric sent me here, to find Alicia. One that I haven’t told you about.”

  “To help Hugo while he talked to me?” Sylvia guessed.

  “I mean, there’s a pretty distinct reason he chose me.”

  Hugo leaned forward. “What reason?”

  Lancelot rubbed his jaw wearily, trying to put all the warring emotions raging through him into those compartmentalized boxes that always helped him get the job done. Unfortunately, that ability was failing him. He couldn’t do it. Not after the past few hours.

  Ever since boarding the plane for America, he’d been Lancelot, that persona wrapping itself around him like a fleece blanket in winter. He liked the man he’d become here, with them.

  When Hugo looked at him, he didn’t see a cold-blooded assassin, he saw a battered knight on a bloody steed.

  When Sylvia looked at him, she saw a man she could respect. Who could fulfill her wildest fantasies. Could love.