by Aimee Carter
“Celia did this,” I said the moment we entered the room. I half expected Knox to elbow me, but he didn’t say a word in her defense.
“Yes, I realize that,” snapped Augusta, and she sat down stiffly in an armchair. Knox set his hand on my back and led me to the nearest couch. “Do tell me how you can be so certain.”
“I—” I stopped, and instead of looking at Knox and giving him away, I focused on the intricately patterned carpet. “I overheard her talking to someone about hurting him last night.”
“And you didn’t think to come to me about it?” said Augusta, her voice like venom. I winced.
“I told Greyson. He said that Celia wouldn’t hurt him or try to take him or anything crazy like that.”
“Greyson has always thought the best of his family, despite significant evidence to the contrary,” said Augusta. “The Shields are investigating, but she has already fled the city.”
“So now what?” I said. “How are we going to get him back?”
“We are not going to do a thing. I will find my grandson, and in the meantime, you will remain here in Somerset. Until Greyson is found, you are the heir apparent, and I will not have anything happening to you, as well.”
My mouth dropped open, and I turned to Knox for confirmation. His mouth was set in a frown, and he nodded.
With Daxton incapacitated, it was Greyson. After Greyson, it would have been Celia. And after Celia—Lila.
Me.
“I can’t do that,” I blurted. “I can’t—”
“You won’t,” said Augusta sharply. “Greyson will be found, and Daxton will wake up. Now, I have no more time for this. Go to your suite and stay there. There will be guards posted outside, and if you need to go somewhere, they will accompany you. You are not to go anywhere without them, do you understand?”
Her entire body trembled, as if she were moments away from exploding, and I nodded numbly. Even if I wanted to, I had no idea where Celia and Greyson could possibly be. And it would only be a matter of time before Augusta discovered I hadn’t given her speech in New York. When that happened, I needed as much goodwill as I could get.
Knox led me out of the room, and we were joined by half a dozen guards. We walked silently to my suite, and when we reached it, Knox bent down to kiss me on the cheek. As he did, he whispered, “Come see me.” Before I could ask why, he shut the door, and I was alone.
I scurried into the vent so fast that I almost beat him to his room. As soon as he sat on the couch, I dropped from the ceiling, and his eyebrows shot up.
“You weren’t kidding,” he said. “You really fit up there?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I crossed my arms. “Why did you want to see me?”
Before he answered, Benjy came out of the room adjacent, and relief washed over his face. “Oh God, you’re all right. I heard about Greyson.” He pulled me into a tight hug and buried his face in my hair. I wrapped my arms around him, too scared and worried and a dozen other emotions to speak. Benjy was warm and real and solid, and I needed that. I needed him to remind me that this wasn’t all some crazy nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
A few moments later, Knox cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I asked you here because I think I have a way of getting Celia to give Greyson back with as little bloodshed as possible.”
I tucked myself underneath Benjy’s arm. “How? She’s irrational, and we have no idea where she is.”
“You’re going to have to trust me on this. If I’m wrong...” He hesitated. “It’s better you don’t know the details.”
“If you’d just listened to me on the plane, we could have warned Augusta before this happened,” I said. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Yes, I realize that. You can say ‘I told you so’ as much as you want later on. Right now we have bigger issues to tackle.” He looked at Benjy. “Can you cover for us for a few hours?”
Benjy blinked. “I, uh—”
“The correct answer is yes.” He looked at me. “Go put on a pair of boots and something that isn’t a dress. And a hat. Benjy, while she’s changing, I’ll fill you in on what you need to do.”
“Do I get a choice?” I said.
“I thought you wanted to help Greyson.”
“Of course, but—”
“Then put on a pair of boots,” he said. “Now. We don’t have any time to waste.”
I stood on my tiptoes to give Benjy a long, lingering kiss so Knox couldn’t miss it. With one final glare in his direction, I climbed on his desk to reach the vent, making a point of stepping on his embedded monitor and leaving shoe prints behind.
* * *
The trip through the underground tunnel was as dark and dank as last time, but now Knox and I hurried. We didn’t talk, and the only sounds we made were our muffled footsteps on the dirt floor.
It was dark outside when we exited into the alleyway, and Knox led me away from the crowded streets. “Where are we going?” I said as we ducked around a trash bin that smelled worse than the sewers.
“We can’t take the main streets,” he said. “Someone might see us.”
I followed him through the winding alleyways, noting each turn in case we got separated. Knox was careful to make sure I was with him, though, and we hadn’t gone more than a mile when we reached a lone metal door. As Knox punched in a nine-digit code, faint music caught my attention. I glanced around the corner, and across the street was the club we’d visited the night I’d caught Knox with the gun.
“In here,” he said, pushing open the door. I followed him into a narrow hallway with only a few bulbs lighting the way. The ceiling was so high that it was obscured by darkness, but I heard a faint rustling above us.
“What is this place?” I said.
He didn’t answer. As we passed underneath a light, I looked up again, hoping to catch sight of whatever was making that noise, but all I saw was the glint of something metal.
At the second light, I tried again. Squinting upward, I could just make out the shape of another metal object, but this one looked like—
A rifle.
Blocking the light with my hand, I stopped, giving my eyes a few seconds to adjust. As they did, the silhouette of a man standing against a rail came into focus, and he was pointing his weapon directly at me.
“Knox,” I said. He set his hand on my shoulder to keep me moving forward, but I planted my feet on the floor. “There’s someone up there.”
“There are a dozen people up there,” he said. “They make sure no one comes in who shouldn’t be here. Now come on. We don’t have much time.”
A dozen, undoubtedly all armed. I was so dizzy I could barely see straight, and Knox guided me forward through the seemingly endless hallway. The urge to turn around and bolt was overwhelming, but even if I did, Knox would catch me, and this was important. This was for Greyson. If they hadn’t shot us yet, chances were they wouldn’t unless I did something stupid. Like run.
Finally we reached the end of the corridor. It was another door, and this time there was a twelve-digit password. Knox punched it in effortlessly, and I purposely looked away, not wanting to risk the wrath of the guards above us.
Once we were inside, the hallway was much wider and brighter than the first. Doors lined the corridor, and when we passed a few that were open, I noticed that there was a bed, desk, and chair inside each room. Individual living quarters.
“Am I allowed to know what this place is now?” I said, but he smiled wanly and pressed on. The floor was concrete and the bedrooms weren’t fancy, but many of them looked lived in. As we passed another open door, however, there was no bed inside. Only rows and rows of weapons, bullets, helmets, and other things I couldn’t name.
We turned the corner, and I stopped when I saw a large common room area with a brightly lit kitchen t
hat reminded me of my group home. A few people lounged on shabby chairs, and they all waved hello to Knox. None of them gave me a second look.
“Colonel Sampson,” said Knox to an official sitting behind a desk. On the screen in front of him was a map I didn’t recognize, but I was sure I’d seen him somewhere before. “Is she still here?”
Sampson stood hastily and saluted. “Yes, sir.”
I stared. The black uniform, the silver lining—
My eyes widened. He was the official who’d come to the group home with the Shield to arrest me.
No, not arrest me. They’d wanted to take me to Daxton.
“And no one leaked it?” he said. Sampson shook his head. “Good work, Colonel. Thank you.”
Knox took my arm and led me down another corridor, this one with the doors spread farther apart.
“Am I the only person in D.C. who didn’t know about this place?” I grumbled, and Knox ignored me. We turned again, and I began to figure out the pattern of the rooms. Even though the corridors were long, we were only walking the length of the building over and over again as the hallway snaked around itself.
“Who’s still here? Celia?” I said, but once again, Knox didn’t answer. Instead he stopped in front of a door that blended in with the others. When he knocked, I held my breath. Would Celia have taken Greyson someplace only a mile from Somerset when the entire country was looking for him?
The door opened a fraction of an inch, and no matter how I craned my neck, I couldn’t see around Knox. “I need to talk to you,” he said.
“I figured as much,” said a soft female voice on the other side. Celia. I narrowed my eyes. “What’s it about this time?”
“Can we please talk about this inside?” said Knox. “I don’t want anyone to overhear.”
“Did I not make myself clear when I said I didn’t want to be bothered?”
“This is important.”
“It’s always important.” She sighed. “What is it this time?”
“Greyson’s been kidnapped,” said Knox. “I need your help getting him back.”
The door opened immediately, and he stepped inside, motioning for me to follow. The room was bigger than I expected, with a dresser and a few colorful accents, and it felt much homier than the others we’d passed.
“God, Knox, you brought her?”
I whirled around, fully prepared to tell Celia that I hadn’t exactly wanted to come, but my retort died on my lips when I saw who it was. Her blond hair was cropped to her shoulders, and she wore the kind of shabby clothes only IIs and IIIs were given, but her eyes were still the same ocean-blue as mine.
“Of course I brought her,” said Knox, and he made a vague gesture toward me. “This is Kitty. Kitty, this is—”
“I know who she is,” I said. “She’s Lila Hart.”
XVI
Lila
I stood still as Lila circled me. She studied every detail in my face, my hands, even going so far as to make me show her the tattoo on my hip. When she brushed my hair from the back of my neck to see my VII, I tensed.
“They did a remarkable job,” she said. She sounded exactly like her mother.
“Celia was there to make sure they got every detail right,” said Knox. He leaned against the closed door, his arms folded across his chest. “Kitty gave a speech this afternoon in New York in front of thousands. No one suspected a thing.”
“That’s incredible,” said Lila, touching the three ridges on the back of my neck. “Where did they find her?”
“They found her at an auction,” I snapped. “And they lied in order to get her to do this.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. They lie about everything. You didn’t tell my mother I was here, did you, Knox?”
He shook his head, and I gaped at them. “Wait—Celia doesn’t know you’re alive?”
“Of course not.” Lila made a face. “She’s half the reason I did this. She made me give her speeches because she thought everyone would like me better than her. The attention was nice, and of course it’s terrible what some of those people go through, but it wasn’t worth my life, you know?”
The attention was nice? I stared at her, speechless. Everything I’d done, all the risks I’d taken to live up to her ghost, and she hadn’t even wanted to do it in the first place.
“But—” I sputtered. “How could you say those things to all those people and not believe it?”
“Of course I believe it,” she said. “I wouldn’t have gone along with it if I didn’t, you know? But it was all Mom’s idea. And if she wants to be prime minister, she can go ahead and give her speeches herself.”
“Her speeches?” I said. “But you’re the one—”
“They were all written by her,” said Lila, and she sighed, as if she’d explained this a dozen times before. “You have to understand—I love my mother, you know? But she ignored Grandmother’s warnings and insisted I stay and keep giving speeches. She said the rebellion was more important than any one life, even if it was mine. So—I mean, what would you do? Stick around? No, thank you.”
If Celia blamed herself for her daughter’s death, no wonder she’d become so unhinged. “So, what?” I said, deeply unimpressed. “You decided to run away and let your own mother think you were dead?”
“Yes,” she said. “Because I’d rather be on the run for the rest of my life than be eaten by worms.”
“Augusta suggested a trip to Aspen,” said Knox. “My father tipped us off about her plans, and Lila’s bodyguard volunteered to take her place.”
“Madison,” said Lila fiercely. “Her name was Madison, and she was my friend.”
“She wasn’t your friend. She was your double, and she had a sworn duty to protect you.”
“Double?” I said. I wasn’t the first to be Masked as Lila?
But both of them ignored me. “There were better ways to do it,” spat Lila.
“None that kept you alive,” said Knox.
“I don’t care. You should have warned me, and we could have come up with something else.”
“There was nothing else,” said Knox. “Madison knew what she was sacrificing, and she was happy to do it.”
“No one should have had to die for me,” she said viciously.
“No, she shouldn’t have, but it was our only choice. Your life was more important.”
“Only because you decided it was.”
“Stop it, both of you,” I said. “I’m sorry Madison died, and I’m sorry this had to happen, but none of it is going to help us find Greyson. And every second you spend arguing is a second we lose.”
Knox had the decency to look guilty, but all Lila did was glare at him and sit stiffly on the edge of the bed. “Fine. What’s your master plan for getting him back?”
“We go public with everything that’s happened with you and Kitty,” said Knox. “We don’t know where Celia is, but you can bet she’s glued to the news for any sign of what’s going on with Daxton. So we use the media to send her a message, offer her a trade. You for Greyson.”
Lila’s mouth dropped open in unison with mine. “Are you kidding?” she said. “How on earth did you come up with that gem?”
“I’ve been thinking about it since Celia first told me her plans.” Knox glanced between us. “She’s only doing this because she thinks you’re dead.”
“Yeah, and we worked long and hard to convince everyone. Now you want to undo it?”
“Yes,” he said. “For Greyson’s sake. She kidnapped him because he is what Augusta values the most, and she thinks Augusta did the same to her. Once she understands that you’re alive, she won’t harm him. She isn’t a monster. Besides, Kitty’s proven to be more controllable than you were.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off, still focused on Lila. “There’
s a chance Augusta will let you go once she has Greyson back.”
“Yeah, and then she’s going to sprout wings and a halo and be declared a saint,” said Lila. “I’m not that stupid.”
“Do you have a better idea?” he said, and then he glanced at me. “Or you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “How about we do something that doesn’t involve Augusta having me killed the first chance she gets? I’m only alive because everyone thinks Lila’s dead.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way,” she said. “Come up with another plan, because I’m not playing along with this one, either.”
“We do have another option,” said Knox, and we both looked at him expectantly. “We could let this play out. Celia will kill Greyson if she hasn’t already, and then Kitty can become prime minister after Augusta bites the dust in another twenty years.” He drummed his fingertips against the wall. “I like it.”
I bit my lip. He was being sarcastic, but that was exactly what would happen if Lila didn’t help us. Greyson would die, and this time it really would be my fault. If I’d told Augusta ahead of time, or if I’d done more to convince Greyson to stay safe, this would never have happened. I could take the coward’s way out and keep myself safe, or I could do this and risk Augusta’s wrath.
And as much as I hated to admit it, Knox had a point. I might not have been cooperative all the time, but I was more willing to listen than Lila was. If Augusta had me killed, things would go back to the way they’d been before this whole mess had started, and she couldn’t afford that right now, not with Daxton’s life hanging in the balance.
“Maybe we should do it,” I said quietly. “Greyson did nothing to deserve this.”
Lila rolled her eyes. “You can try to guilt me all you want, but I’m not going to die for my mother’s dream.”
“No,” I said. “You’d rather have Greyson die for yours.”