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Sylvia’s brothers had commandeered the bedrooms on the second story, refusing to leave their sister alone with him and Lancelot. He’d heard them all settling in shortly after they’d carried Sylvia to bed. Given what had happened to her since their arrival, Hugo could hardly blame them for wanting to remain.
Meanwhile, he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact there were three of them—all brilliant, all protective of their sister, all ready to break his and Lancelot’s necks for sleeping with her.
Despite the fear enveloping the house, Hugo grinned as he recalled her dropping the fact they’d engaged in ménage sex.
Lancelot tilted his head. “Something funny?”
Hugo kept his voice low. “I’m considering how Sylvia will feel when she realizes she told her older brothers about our ménage.”
Lancelot scowled. “That’s grin-worthy? You realize we’re not only facing a danger from outside these walls, but from upstairs, too.”
Hugo sighed, but his smile didn’t falter. While there was no denying her brothers were angry, Hugo could acknowledge that they had an ace up their sleeve. “She’ll never let them touch us.”
Lancelot’s gaze shifted to Sylvia, and his expression softened. “I hadn’t considered that. You’re right.”
Then the knight turned back toward the door, peering down the hall once more. Ever alert. Ever focused.
Hugo hated this feeling that they were exposed and vulnerable. Though the night was quiet and peaceful, it was a façade. They were in danger. And while there was very little chance Alicia would find them at the safe house, it would be the height of foolishness to believe themselves safe. Sylvia may be able to protect them from her brothers, but there was the matter of the Trinity Masters. They hadn’t had time to figure out for certain who the masked man was, though they both thought it safe to assume he’d been a member of the Trinity Masters. If that was true, more dangers lurked outside these walls than just Alicia.
As a librarian, he’d been one of six Masters’ Admiralty members charged by the fleet admiral with the task of studying the mastermind’s crimes in an attempt to find the villain and see him brought to justice. Considering that the first clue left by the mastermind had taken both James Rathmann, one of Europe’s best coin experts, and the principessa Sophia, who worked for the Carabinieri Department for the Protection of Cultural Heritage—the Italian art police—to decode, it had been a stroke of brilliance on James’s part to call into service the group of intellectuals now called the librarians.
Hugo, along with James, Cecilia St. John, Josephine O’Connor, Karl Klimek, and Nyx Kata, had met several times at Trinity Library in hopes of using the scarce information available, along with the amassed knowledge and research capabilities of the six of them, to make evidenced-based assumptions about who the mastermind might be. Two of them had suffered for their efforts. Karl had nearly died at the hands of one of the mastermind’s serial killers, while Nyx was still recuperating in the Ukraine following a brutal attack by the same man.
During their discussions about who the mastermind could be, Hugo had learned one very real truth. Never underestimate the enemy.
So while it seemed unlikely Alicia would find them here, would put her own freedom at risk to recapture Sylvia, that didn’t mean it was impossible.
They’d also underestimated the mastermind’s ability to have multiple pieces in play at once. That had proven nearly fatal for Karl and his new spouses in Rome, when they’d defeated a serial killer, but had nearly been taken out by a bomb.
Hugo walked to a window, gazing out. A quarter moon hung in the dark sky, surrounded by countless stars. It was truly beautiful in Charleston. Under other circumstances, he would have enjoyed visiting and playing tourist.
Lancelot stepped next to him. Hugo knew the knight wasn’t enjoying the beauty of the place, rather he was scanning the surrounding area for threats. Lancelot was a knight through and through. Men like him simply couldn’t turn the need to protect others on and off like a light switch. Though they’d only known each other a few short days, Hugo understood what made Lancelot tick.
“Why don’t you try to get some rest?” Hugo murmured in a quiet voice. “I’ll take a turn at watch.”
Lancelot rubbed his neck, then shifted to face Hugo. A ghost of a grin appeared even as he shook his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Professor, but—”
“But you’d be wiser not to finish that sentence, Lancelot.”
Lancelot and Hugo both looked at Sylvia, who, for the first time since they’d rescued her from Alicia, actually sounded more like herself. Her voice was stronger, no longer weak with pain. She was sitting up, grinning at them.
That didn’t matter. Both of them hastened back to the bed.
“Lay down, ma cherie.”
“On one condition.”
Lancelot crossed his arms. “Under no conditions. You need to rest. You’re recuperating.”
Sylvia waved her good hand as if that argument was inconsequential. “There’s room for three of us in this bed, even with my crappy hand.”
She wasn’t wrong. Because it was a safe house for the Trinity Masters, the beds were made to accommodate three people rather than two.
“Sylvia,” Hugo began, intent on arguing.
The clever, sexy woman clearly was feeling better because she adopted that voice certain to ensure she got exactly what she wanted.
“Hugo,” she said sweetly. “Please get in the bed. I’m cold and lonely and scared.”
