Pawn

by Aimee Carter

  Directly below me, Knox sat at a desk, hunched over a folder full of documents. Relief washed over me. At least now I had a way out if I needed one.

  I started to slide back to Lila’s suite, but a faint knock stopped me cold. “Come in,” said Knox, and his door opened and shut. He stood and removed his reading glasses, and I strained to see who was there.

  “Knox. So good to see you.”

  I cringed. Daxton.

  “Sir. I hear your hunting trip was successful.”

  “Ah, so she told you, did she?” I could hear the smugness in Daxton’s voice. “What else did she say?”

  Knox cleared his throat, and I tensed. He wouldn’t tell Daxton about my deal with Celia, would he? He couldn’t. He’d be incriminating himself, too.

  “She’s upset with you, and with good reason,” said Knox, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “You had her already, Daxton. You didn’t have to kill that woman.”

  “I know,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “But it was so much fun, and there’s nothing quite like a bullet to make my point for me, now, is there?”

  “There were subtler ways,” said Knox. “You’re better than that.”

  “If you insist. Do let me know if there’s anything to report, will you?”

  “Don’t expect much. She’s scared to blink the wrong way, let alone disobey you.”

  “Good,” he said. “Peaceful and controlled, just the way I like it.” I heard his footsteps as he walked to the door, but before it opened, he paused. “No hard feelings about what happened to Lila, yes? It was a shame, but I tried to warn her. She knew the dangers of what she was doing. So did Celia.”

  Knox was silent for a long moment. “Nothing’s changed,” he finally said. “Thank you for allowing my father to tell me ahead of time.”

  “Of course,” said Daxton. “You’re a good man, Knox. You deserved the chance to say goodbye.” He paused. “Don’t forget, poker next Thursday.”

  Knox nodded, and after the door opened and shut, he sank into his chair and buried his face in his hands.

  He’d known. He’d known Lila was going to die, and he hadn’t done a damn thing to stop it. Had their entire relationship been for show? Had he been using Lila as much as Daxton was using him?

  I shimmied back through the vent. He hadn’t snitched on me. That was the important part. And Lila— I forced myself to take a mental step back. What could he have done? Lila had one of the most famous faces in the country. Hiding her would have been impossible, and warning her would undoubtedly have cost him his life. Maybe he had tried anyway. Maybe he’d failed. I had no way of knowing what had really happened.

  After returning to Lila’s suite, I used one of the pokers next to the fire to move the grate back to its proper position. Once I was done, I pushed the end table back into place and surveyed the corner. Even if someone noticed something was different, they would probably assume I’d done some redecorating, that was all.

  Spreading out on the sofa, I shut my eyes. This was as hellish as I’d thought it would be, but at least now I knew who my real friends were. Daxton could try to secure my cooperation by threatening me and giving me things I would have never had as a III, but I would never trust him. Knox had lied for me. I didn’t have to know what had happened to Lila to feel confident that he wouldn’t let it happen to me.

  He’d said he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Now I understood what he’d meant.

  * * *

  A loud pounding on the door shook me from my fading dreams. I was still spread out on the sofa with my head at a strange angle, giving me a crick in my neck. I rubbed it, and my hand brushed the three telltale ridges. I sat up.

  “Who is it?” I said. It was dark now, and all that remained of the fire were glowing embers.

  The door burst open, and half a dozen guards entered my suite. I stood, adrenaline chasing away all traces of exhaustion. Were they here for me? Had I done something wrong? Had Daxton somehow found out about my deal with Celia?

  “You have to come with us, Miss Hart,” said one of the guards. “It’s urgent.”

  I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. Silently I followed them out of the room, and it was only when I saw Knox being led out of his that I let myself breathe again. So it wasn’t just me.

  Unless they’d discovered Knox had lied.

  “What’s going on?” I said as the guards surrounded us. My face grew hot when I noticed he was wearing pajama bottoms and not much else, but being half-naked didn’t seem to bother him.

  “I don’t know,” he said, his brow furrowed. “Did you hear the rumbling earlier?”

  I shook my head. I could sleep through practically anything after sharing a room with nineteen other girls my entire life.

  Celia soon joined us, but she had no more of an idea of what was going on than we did. The guards led us down to the basement and through a maze of hallways I mapped out mentally. The one who had spoken, a man dressed in a black-and-silver uniform, stopped in front of a metal door and punched in a long series of symbols. The screen turned green and the lock clicked, and he pushed it open. So we were being arrested after all.

  The door was at least two feet thick, and on the other side was a screen to unlock it from the inside. Without the password, however, it would be impossible to escape. It had no windows, and unlike the rooms I’d seen earlier, it was practically bare in comparison. Only a few couches and chairs were scattered throughout, with a kitchenette and what looked like a small bathroom in opposite corners, and cabinets that went from floor to ceiling lined the walls. I subtly searched for a vent, but I didn’t spot anything big enough to be useful.

  “The safe room,” said Knox in a low voice as we were ushered inside. “This place could withstand a nuclear attack. Wouldn’t recommend trying to break in. Or out, for that matter. Three tries and you’d alert half the city.”

  I had no idea what a nuclear attack was, but I didn’t doubt him. The room was impenetrable. I sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, and Knox and Celia took a seat nearby. As we waited, I closed my eyes and counted the seconds in an attempt to calm myself down, but it didn’t stop my pulse from racing.

  Finally Daxton joined us. Instead of telling us anything, he sat down next to me, so close I could smell his soap. Greyson, Daxton’s son, trailed behind him, his shoulders slumped and a book tucked underneath his arm. He was tall and blond and reminded me of Benjy, but I pushed that thought aside. It hurt too much to think about him right now.

  Greyson ignored the rest of us and sat as far away from the group as he could. Even though he was eighteen, he looked younger with his furrowed brow and guarded eyes. I thought I spotted him staring at me, but when I looked at him, he was focused on his book.

  The last to join us was Augusta, wearing a silk dressing gown and a scowl. Daxton stood when his mother entered, and she gestured for him to sit back down.

  “There has been an attack,” she said, her voice steady. “In what looks to be a coordinated effort, seventeen government buildings have been bombed in various cities across the country, including three in the District of Columbia. Two of our ministries were targeted directly. So far we have no numbers on casualties, but because of the late hour, they are not expected to be more than a hundred or so.”

  I clasped my hands together, stunned. Across from me, Celia paled. “Has anyone taken credit?” she said.

  Augusta pursed her lips. “The Blackcoats.”

  Beside me, Daxton scoffed. “Impossible. My advisers insist they don’t have the manpower or the resources.”

  “Obviously they do,” snapped Celia. Augusta gave her a look I didn’t understand, but Celia kept her glare on Daxton.

  “How?” he said. “None of the terrorists we’ve dealt with before had the capability or the means to pull off something like this. It t
akes resources that the lower ranks don’t have.”

  “Clearly you must have pissed off the wrong people this time,” she said.

  “Enough.” Augusta sat beside Greyson and smoothed the wrinkles of her dressing gown. Instead of moving away from her, like I expected, Greyson leaned against her, and she rubbed his back. “They are demanding you step aside as prime minister and allow real elections. Abolish the rank system. Allow the elderly and helpless to remain in society. The same absurdities as last time.”

  I chanced a look at Celia, but her expression was as blank as ever. Those were the things that Lila had talked about in her speeches.

  “I’ll have the Shields on it in the morning,” said Daxton. “It should be easy enough to track them down and squash all of this nonsense.”

  Greyson sighed. “So why do we have to stay in the safe room? It’s not like they can get past the guards.”

  “Caution, my dear,” said Augusta. “It would do us no good to purposely ignore the threat. Besides, if something happened to you, we would have no heir.”

  “You’d have Lila,” he said. Apparently no one had bothered to tell him after all.

  I watched him openly now, able to see in person similarities to the other Harts that weren’t evident in pictures or film. The way the corners of his mouth turned downward when he wasn’t talking. The way his forehead furrowed to make him look much more serious than his voice let on. He was definitely his father’s son, but there was a glint in his eyes that Daxton didn’t have, an intelligence that seemed to take in everything. Including the fact that I was staring.

  I looked down at my hands, but it was too late. He’d already noticed.

  “Perhaps,” said Augusta with a sniff. “However, you are my only remaining grandson, and I will not compromise your safety so you can waste the night tinkering with your toys.”

  “They’re not toys,” he said, sitting up straighter now and shifting away from her. “They’re inventions, and they work. If you’d just come to my workshop for a few minutes and look—”

  She raised her hand, and even though his anger was palpable, he fell silent, as if he’d expected her to cut him off. A father like Daxton and a grandmother like Augusta. At least I’d had Nina.

  “I’d like to see your new inventions sometime, if you’ll let me,” said Celia warmly. “You must have come up with some interesting things in the past few weeks.”

  “It’s been a while for me,” said Knox. “Lila, too.”

  The way Knox looked at me made it clear I was expected to chime in. “Right,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’d like to see them, too.” I couldn’t imagine what Greyson could have invented that didn’t already exist, but that was why he was the one making things and I wasn’t.

  Greyson bit his lip. “Yeah, all right. If they ever let us out of here.”

  “Patience,” said Augusta. “It will do you a world of good.”

  “Maybe so, but I still say we don’t get out of here until morning.”

  Unfortunately Greyson was right. I managed a few restless hours of dozing, curled up in an uncomfortable position with Daxton snoring next to me, but as the night wore on, he inched closer and closer. When he threw his arm across my chest and settled his head on my shoulder, I gave up hope of getting any sleep.

  It was nearly dawn by the time we were escorted back to our rooms with a stern warning from Augusta that none of us were to leave Somerset. My time to find Benjy before his seventeenth birthday was dwindling, and without a way out, I would have no chance at all.

  Exhausted, I followed Knox and the guards up to the fourth floor, but it wasn’t until we’d reached Knox’s room that I tried to work up the courage to speak. Instead of heading toward Lila’s suite, I stood in front of him with my arms folded and the weight of a sleepless night on my shoulders. How was I supposed to say this in front of the guards?

  Knox picked up on my uncertainty and gestured for them to leave us. Once they were gone, he held open his door for me, and I shook my head. I wasn’t going anywhere private with him.

  “Who are the Blackcoats?” I said softly. Knox leaned down to answer, and his lips brushed against my ear.

  “The people who bombed the ministries last night,” he said. “Why are we whispering?”

  He was determined to make this difficult, and I was too tired to play games. “Was—I—involved with them?”

  Knox straightened, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because they wanted the same things I talked about.”

  Several seconds passed, and I dug my toes into the carpet, wondering if I should walk away now before he lied and told me no. It was too much of a coincidence: Lila dying, me replacing her, the bombings—they had to be connected.

  “Those are the same things every rebellion has been about for the past seventy-one years,” said Knox at last. “Groups have tried again and again to take down the Harts, but you’ve seen how well that worked out.”

  “Except when Daxton’s wife and son died,” I blurted, remembering the conversation I’d had with Nina the day I’d received my III. She hadn’t outright told me they’d been killed by rebels, but she might as well have.

  Knox paused, his gaze unfocused. “Jameson and Yvonne died in a car accident. There was no rebel involvement.”

  “Are you sure?” I said.

  “Positive. This is the first time the Blackcoats have done any sort of real damage, which is exactly why Augusta’s spooked.”

  Maybe Nina had been wrong after all, but the way he hesitated only confused me more. “I’ve heard rumors—”

  “Rumors are rumors because no one can back them up,” he said shortly. “I’ve explained what happened. If you’re going to push it, I’m not sticking around.”

  “You don’t want to talk about them, fine,” I said. “I get it. I’ve lost people, too. But you will answer my question.”

  “I already told you—”

  “Not that one. The one before. Was I or was I not involved with the Blackcoats?”

  Knox eyed me for a long moment, as if deciding whether or not I was worth the truth. “She got involved in that sort of thing about a year ago, and despite what Daxton wants you to think, she didn’t trust me. I don’t think she trusted anyone, not even her mother. The first time I heard the speeches was when I saw them with you.”

  I studied him, searching for any signs that he was lying. His expression was maddeningly blank. “Okay. Thanks,” I said. If I let him know I suspected him, he would only try that much harder to hide the truth.

  “You’re welcome.” Knox started to enter his room, and I hesitated in the doorway, another question on the tip of my tongue. He stopped, his eyebrows raised. “Was there something else?”

  I cleared my throat. “Have you ever been Elsewhere?”

  Something changed in his expression, something so tiny that it was gone before I could figure out what it was. “Yes. My father and I take a semiannual trip together. He considers it a bonding experience.”

  Bonding over hunting innocent people. What could possibly bring a father and son closer together? And the way he said it, as if it were no big deal—as if all the fathers and sons in the ruling class did it. For all I knew, they did.

  “Okay.” I turned away and headed down the hall, and when I heard footsteps behind me, I stopped.

  “Lila,” he said, and I refused to look at him. It wasn’t his fault, but I was getting really, really sick of everyone calling me Lila. “I’m heading out to a club around ten tonight. Nothing fancy, but I figured you might get a kick out of it. Some of our friends will be there, and I’m sure they’d like to see you.”

  Friends. Of course Lila had friends, and that would only mean more lying and desperate attempts to get my story straight. The last thing I wanted to do was
to see more people who knew Lila well enough to be able to tell the difference between us.

  However, it was exactly the opening I needed. A chance to leave this place and find Benjy before it was too late.

  “Aren’t we on lockdown?” I said.

  Knox shrugged. “That’s never stopped us before.”

  If the clubs Lila frequented were anything like the one where Daxton had found me, it would be crowded. That would give me a chance to break away and find Benjy, though if the club was close to Somerset, it would take a while to get back to the Heights.

  It didn’t matter. Even if I had to walk there in heels, I would do it.

  “All right. I’ll go,” I said.

  “Knew you’d come around,” said Knox with a wink. “See you at ten o’clock.”

  Once I was inside my suite, I leaned against the closed door and took a deep, shaky breath. I had less than fifteen hours to not only come up with a way to find Benjy, but also to figure out how I was going to convince him that underneath Lila’s face, clothes, and VII, I was really Kitty Doe, and I wasn’t nearly as dead as I was supposed to be.

  IX

  Key

  The more I thought about it, the more impossible my plan felt. With my real face, it would have been easy to slip away and get lost in a crowd, but with Lila’s, all eyes would be on me. If by some miracle I did get away, someone else would surely spot me—and once I reached the Heights, I would stick out like a sore thumb. A VII had never had a reason to set foot in our run-down suburb before.

  Even if I did make it to Benjy, what would happen after that? There were a million things only the two of us knew that would prove who I was, but where could I take him to guarantee Daxton wouldn’t get his hands on him?

  I didn’t sleep well that morning, tossing and turning in the massive bed that could easily have held five people. Eventually I gave up and dragged myself into the sitting room, where I collapsed onto the sofa in a cocoon of white fur. I picked at the lunch tray the servants brought and tried to think of someplace within the city where Benjy would be safe, but nothing came to mind. The odds were stacked a mile high against us. Then again, they usually were, and that had never stopped me before.