Wrath's Storm: A Masters' Admiralty Novel

by Mari Carr

“Are you questioning my abilities?” Jakob asked, in that deliciously deep tone of his that told Annalise the game was on.

  “Never,” she murmured.

  “Good. Wait here.” Jakob quickly left the room and she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

  Walt, who was still holding her, tugged her to him, kissing her softly. Their lips parted and she tasted the sugar from his tea on his tongue. Her lovely American doctor had a serious sweet tooth. As they kissed, he reached up and gently pulled out the hairband she’d used to tie her hair up in a bun this morning. She groaned as he ran his fingers over her scalp before combing the strands out so they hung loose over her shoulders.

  “I love your hair,” he murmured as his lips left hers, traveling along her cheek to her ear.

  Annalise had always thought her hair a rather dull brown, fairly unremarkable as far as hair went.

  “Started without me, I see,” Jakob said as he reentered the room. Walt kept his arms around her as she turned to face their lover.

  Her eyes widened when he held up the tube of lubrication he’d gone to retrieve from the nightstand. Walt placed a kiss on the side of her head.

  “So what’s the game plan, coach?” Walt asked.

  Jakob shook his head, even as he grinned. “So American. Tonight we take our beautiful woman together.”

  Annalise had loved everything the three of them had done together, even as they’d had to make allowances for her bruises and Jakob’s stitches. The past three nights had run more along the lines of taking turns. But this…

  This was going to be her favorite night, and they hadn’t even started.

  Jakob tossed the lubrication to the rug as he approached her. “You like that.”

  His words weren’t a question, but she answered anyway. “So much.” Obviously, her poker face was crap.

  Jakob reached for her T-shirt, pulling it over her head. None of them had bothered with real clothing since returning to Frankfurt. A big reason this fool’s paradise was so perfect was because it involved lounge pants, T-shirts, and no bra. No wonder she never wanted this to end.

  Walt was still behind her, so he took advantage of that position, cupping her breasts. It wasn’t lost on her that both men really, really liked her breasts.

  Jakob knocked one of Walt’s hands away playfully, making room for his lips on her nipple.

  Annalise gripped Jakob’s head, moaning when he used his teeth as well as his tongue. With her head thrown back, resting on Walt’s shoulder, her eyes closed, she blindly grabbed for Jakob’s shirt, determined to get them all naked as quickly as possible.

  “So impatient,” Jakob murmured, even as he reached back and pulled his shirt off with one hand. Walt released her for just a moment to follow suit.

  Jakob and Walt resumed their nipple play, but she still needed more. Reaching lower, she ran her hand over Jakob’s erection, now evident beneath his lounge pants. As she stroked him, she pressed her ass back against Walt, wiggling against his hard-on at the same time.

  Jakob lifted his head and kissed her deeply and with so much passion, her head spun. Walt’s lips were at her neck, then closer to her ear.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  They weren’t new words. In fact, it felt as if the three of them couldn’t say them enough. She wondered sometimes if they spoke them so often because they needed to stockpile a lifetime’s worth of them in a short time.

  Jakob had just reached for the waistband of her pants when there was a loud knock at the door.

  Jakob went rigid and alert. He glanced at the clock on the mantel.

  Annalise made an exasperated sound. “Who the hell could that be?”

  “Every frickin’ time.” Walt bent over to pick up her T-shirt, pulling it over her head. “I don’t know, but, Jakob, you need to get rid of whoever it is quick.”

  Annalise arched a brow as she glanced at both Jakob and Walt and their very obvious erections. “Maybe I should get the door?” she asked, hating the hesitancy in her tone. She’d been braver back in the hotels in Poland. Coming back to Frankfurt, despite knowing Axel was gone, had dredged up old feelings.

  Jakob shook his head. “No. I’ll get it. You stay here with Walt.”

  Old habits died hard, and she knew it would take a long time before Jakob felt comfortable letting her do common things like answering a door or traveling alone. Maybe he never would. The truth was, she wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable doing those things on her own yet either.

  Walt tossed Jakob his T-shirt just as whoever was outside banged on the door again.

  Jakob muttered under his breath, pulling his shirt on as he walked to the front door. He’d picked up a fireplace poker as a weapon before he walked out.

  There was a pregnant silence, and then a faint murmur of voices.

  Jakob walked back into the living room with a look Annalise didn’t understand…until Eric followed him in.

  Beside her, Walt groaned and put his head in his hands.

  “Fleet Admiral,” she said. “We weren’t expecting you.”

  Eric’s gaze slid around the room, missing nothing, including the tube of lubrication on the floor. He smirked. “Interrupting, I see.”

  Jakob quickly walked over to the lube and kicked it under one of the ottomans.

  Eric snorted, and then looked at Walt. “Hayden, good. Glad to find you here. Saves me a trip to Libya.”

  “Eric, go away,” Walt groaned.

  “Though I wouldn’t have minded checking in on the girls,” Eric mused.

  It took her a minute to figure out he was talking about the girls in Libya he’d rescued from the extremists.

  “Is there something we can do for you, Fleet Admiral?” Jakob asked, looking somewhat silly standing at parade rest in his retro Neu! T-shirt, flannel lounge pants, and bare feet.

  “Ohh, a whole sentence?” Eric grinned at Jakob, and Annalise hid her own smile. Then the fleet admiral shook his head. “No. You’ve already done it. I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you. It was the Albanian mafia at the cafe that day. I had to clean up some of their shit—fucking human traffickers deserve a bloody death—before I could return.”

  Annalise wasn’t sure how to reply. Did the fleet admiral seriously just admit to taking on the mafia?

  Eric forged on. “The three of you helped me bring a killer to justice. So I’m here to ask. What do you want? Name it.”

  Annalise glanced at Jakob and then at Walt. There was only one thing she wanted, but she knew it wasn’t Eric’s to give.

  “Technically, you two had to help me,” he went on, pointing at Annalise and Jakob. “But he didn’t.” Eric jerked his head at Walt.

  “It was our honor to serve,” Jakob said formally. Annalise nodded her agreement because after all, what else was there to say?

  Walt smiled briefly, but there was sadness in his eyes. “It’s okay, Eric. What I want—”

  “You want them?” Eric interrupted.

  Annalise continued to be curious about the closeness between her American doctor and the fleet admiral. Where most people treated Eric with kid gloves or respectful distance, Walt acted almost as if the two of them were old friends, though she knew his association with Eric was as short as his was with them. Of course, Walt was one of those people who simply didn’t know a stranger. He was warm, open, and friendly.

  “I’m in love with them,” Walt admitted. “But I know the rules. Arranged trinity marriages between members.” Walt’s words were tight.

  Annalise felt tears gathering even though the last thing she wanted to do right now was cry.

  “If things were different, I’d choose them. I would spend the rest of my life with them, and it would be a good, happy life.”

  Jakob made a pained noise, and Annalise pressed her fingers to the inner corners of her eyes.

  Walt took a breath and went on. “But I, we, can’t have that. I’m not a member, and I can’t be. I promised Juliette I’d join—”

 
“A cult,” Eric interjected. “You promised to join a cult. And I have one of those.”

  The drama of the moment evaporated as they all looked at Eric in shock.

  Was he saying…

  Annalise turned to Walt. For a moment, she thought he was going to argue, but then his frown cleared and brows rose. “You’re right. I technically never promised to join the Trinity Masters.”

  Eric grinned as he stepped closer and slapped Walt on the shoulder. “Nope. You never said those words.”

  “I just said I’d join a cult.” Walt’s brief smile faded. “Even so, you and I both know that’s what I meant, what I promised. My brothers, the Grand Master…they expect me to come back to join the Trinity Masters.”

  “Love is hard. Happiness is harder. If you find it, take it. No matter what the cost.”

  The fleet admiral’s words struck her, especially after everything she’d been through in the past few years.

  He was right. Absolutely right.

  Annalise pressed a hand to her mouth, silently praying. If Walt joined, Eric could—would—place them in a trinity together.

  “The Grand Master’s going to be pissed off if I don’t come back,” Walt said slowly. “And my clinic, the funding.”

  Eric shrugged. “She won’t cut your funding. She might be a hard-ass, but the Grand Master isn’t cruel. And I seem to be good at pissing women off lately. One more won’t matter. To be honest, she’s been pissed at me since the day she met me.”

  “Can’t imagine why,” Jakob muttered, prompting Eric to laugh loudly.

  “Damn, Ritter. Is that a sense of humor?”

  “Wait,” Annalise said, too afraid to believe everything that was happening. “Are you saying you can join the Masters’ Admiralty?” she asked Walt.

  Walt hesitated for just a moment, his uncertain gaze locked with Eric’s unyielding one. Then a smile slid over his face. “Yeah. I think I can.”

  Annalise twisted to Eric. “And the three of us…”

  Eric waited for a moment. “Ask for what you want, Dr. Fischer.”

  “I want them. Jakob and Walt. To be my trinity.”

  Eric nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Done. I’ll call Eburhardt now and tell him what’s going on. Then the three of you are flying back to the Isle of Man with me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Walt murmured a quiet “dayum” as they stepped off the private plane that had flown him, Annalise, Jakob, and Eric to the Isle of Man. Nine dangerous-looking people were waiting for them.

  “Spartan Guard,” Jakob said, pointing. “Their job is to protect the fleet admiral.”

  “Poor fuckers,” Walt muttered.

  “The woman in the front is Regina Kagy. Head of the guard.”

  Eric walked up to the tall dark-haired woman and said, “Honey! I’m home.”

  From the expression on Regina’s face, it was obvious she wasn’t amused, but was also professional enough to keep her opinions to herself. She nodded her head slightly. “Welcome home, Fleet Admiral.”

  “Looks like the whole gang is here,” Eric said, his tone somewhere between annoyed and amused. “Admit it, Gina. You missed me.”

  Regina, who had been doing a good job holding on to her anger, let the slightest smile slip. It lasted only a second before the frown was firmly back in place and she said, “We almost had you in Dubai.”

  “I thought that might have been you. You or those asshole exotic animal smugglers.”

  “We cleaned up that mess for you.”

  “Good. Did you get to pet a baby tiger?”

  “Cub petting is abuse.”

  “Aww, now you’re making me feel guilty.”

  “You should.” Regina arched a brow. “Your crusade is over, I presume?”

  Eric grinned. “For now.” Then he sobered. “Josephine’s killer is dead.”

  “We would have, could have, helped you,” Regina said.

  “It was safer for all of you if you were nowhere near me.”

  The Spartan Guard led them to two SUVs. Eric climbed into the back of the first car, with Regina, while he, Annalise, and Jakob were ushered into the back of the second.

  Walt felt a little bit like British royalty or the president of the United States as the guards not driving and occupying the passenger seats climbed onto motorcycles and formed a motorcade to guide them to Cashtal Ny Tree Cassyn.

  Annalise served as an interesting tour guide as they traversed the island. She pointed out countless tourist attractions, while filling in details about the actual headquarters of the Masters’ Admiralty. Keanu Newman, the Spartan Guard driving their vehicle, added his own tidbits as well.

  Apparently Cashtal Ny Tree Cassyn was a fortified manor house and estate. The main building was where the fleet admiral lived in private quarters on the third floor. The second floor had six bedrooms and a receiving room, while the first floor of the manor had a foyer, library, offices, and kitchen, as well as assorted other small rooms. The majority of the square footage of the first floor was given over to the great hall, which was where any and all large meetings were held.

  Walt didn’t tell them that he knew the Trinity Masters had a similar place, though theirs was hidden under the Boston Public Library.

  Once they arrived, they stepped out of the cars and joined Eric at the front entrance—a heavy wooden door set in a pointy-arched alcove. Walt noted the armed men who appeared atop the walls.

  “Come on in,” Eric said, entering the place and looking around. When he muttered, “Home sweet home,” Walt couldn’t help but notice Eric’s obvious disdain for the place.

  “Gina, my guests and I are going up to my office to take care of some business. Can you see that the guest room—the good one—is ready for them? They’ll be staying here tonight.”

  Gina nodded. “Of course, Fleet Admiral.”

  Eric gestured toward the stairs and the four of them started to climb, bypassing the second floor entirely as they headed for the third.

  Eric opened a door at the top of the stairs and led them into a large office. The room was inviting with comfortable furniture, Oriental rugs, a huge oak desk near a window, and framed photographs on the wall of color shots of nature. Walt was certain Eric had taken the pictures of waterfalls, mountains, and landscapes himself during his travels.

  “My office,” Eric said, as if that was all the tour they were going to get.

  “Nice,” Walt said.

  “Your sister, Sylvia, was the first person I recruited to the Masters’ Admiralty, and hers was the first trinity I married. Traditionally, both ceremonies are done by the admiral of the member’s territory, but I’m the boss, so I can change the rules if I want to.”

  Walt chuckled.

  “I want to thank you, Walt, Annalise, Jakob.” Eric’s voice lost the usual sarcastic tone Walt had become accustomed to. “For helping me find Josephine’s killer.”

  Eric gestured for Walt to join him. “First, you join the Masters’ Admiralty. Then the marriage ceremony.”

  Walt stepped away from Jakob and Annalise.

  “Before we do this, you have to know the rules. These are nonnegotiable.”

  “All right,” Walt said, for the first time a little nervous.

  There was no teasing in Eric’s voice or manner now. “You will obey your territory’s laws. You will obey all orders and directives from your admiral and the fleet admiral. Me. You will marry by the age of forty-five—okay, clearly that one is not an issue. Your marriage will be arranged to benefit and preserve our society. When you have kids, you can’t tell them the name of, or details about, the Masters’ Admiralty. You can tell them you’re in a secret club, but no details. Still with me?”

  Walt nodded.

  “Okay, last one. Your membership is provisional for the first year. If you fail us, you will be assigned a job and a place to live, both of which we control, and you will be watched for the rest of your life.”

  “That’s ominous,” W
alt murmured.

  “I’d say not to worry, but if I get assassinated sometime in the next year it won’t be up to me.”

  “Don’t die.”

  “Not planning on it. You ready?”

  Walt looked over at Annalise and Jakob. “I’m more than ready.”

  “Walter Hayden, you are called before me to join the Masters’ Admiralty. Do you stand before me today of your own free will and accord?”

  “I do.”

  “Raise your right hand.”

  Walt lifted his hand.

  “Do you hereby pledge your life to the ideals and principles of the Masters’ Admiralty? Will you obey the rules and decrees, maintain the honor and integrity of our society, encourage creative, original thought, and strive to improve the world?”

  Walt let those words soak in, the weight, the importance of what he was about to do sinking in for the first time.

  He nodded. “I will.”

  “Repeat after me. Morumque scientia servabo.”

  Walt repeated the words, recalling the Latin he’d learned in medical school. He was vowing to preserve knowledge and morality.

  Eric went to the bookshelf and pulled down a large, ancient book. Carrying it to his desk, he flipped through hundreds of pages, before grabbing a pen and what looked like a dagger encased in a scabbard. He turned and jerked his head for Walt to join him.

  He handed Walt the pen. “Sign your name here.”

  Walt scanned the page. The last name entered was one he knew, the handwriting achingly familiar. He touched his sister’s signature. “Sylvie.” Beside her name there was a faded brown spot.

  Smiling, he added his own signature, and then eyed the pages. “Think I could sneak a peek? Who else is in here?”

  Eric snorted. “Behave yourself.”

  Eric grabbed Walt’s left hand and poked the sharp tip of the dagger with the embossed triskele into his index finger.

  “Ouch.”

  “Don’t be a pussy,” Eric said in his normal tone, before once more adopting a more formal attitude. “Place a drop of your blood next to your signature.”

  Walt squeezed his finger, letting the blood well. He reached out, but Eric gripped his wrist, stopping Walt just before he could drop his blood next to his name. “Membership is for life, and breaking our rules, disobeying our laws, disobeying me, can cost you your life. If you betray us, I will not hesitate to take yours.”