Aimee Carter - Pawn

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 takes 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—”