Aimee Carter - Queen

“No, you need to rest,” said Benjy, reaching for my shoulder. “You may not have any broken bones, but that doesn’t mean you’re not injured.”

I shrugged off his hand. “Benjy, I love you, but Knox was furious that I pardoned Lila for her crimes, and he’s going to use any excuse he can get to undo that. She just handed him one on a silver platter.” I swung my feet around carefully and stood. Though walking back to the manor through the tunnels hadn’t been difficult, now that my body had had time to rest and the adrenaline had worn off, every little wrong move sent aching pain through me. “He won’t listen to me with the other Blackcoats backing him up, so I need to talk to him before he calls a meeting to figure out a rebuttal.”

“I’ll be there to support you,” he pointed out.

“And a dozen other Blackcoats will be there to support him,” I said.

Benjy didn’t look convinced, but rather than fight me on it, he stood as well and offered me a hand. “At least let me help you down the steps.”

I gave him a long, searching look, but at last I accepted. Together we made our way through the hallway and down the staircase, his grip on me strong and steady, the sort that never made me question whether he’d catch me if I fell. I didn’t know how I’d lucked out, having Benjy in my life, but it was one of the few things I wouldn’t trade for anything.

I was positive he would try to weasel his way into my talk with Knox, but to my surprise, once we reached the foyer, he let me go. “I’ll be helping with dinner. Shout if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I said, watching him head into the kitchen. As soon as he disappeared, leaving me alone in the marble entranceway with an ornate H decorating the floor, I crossed to the office that had once belonged to Jonathan Mercer, Hannah’s husband. Even now, two weeks after she had killed him, I still felt a shiver run through me every time I approached the white double doors.

I cracked them open, my mouth open and a greeting on the tip of my tongue. Before I could say anything, however, Knox’s voice shot through the room like a whip. “No.”

“I need—” I began, but the words died on my lips. Knox wasn’t talking to me. Instead he paced in front of his desk, and on the monitor I saw a feed of Celia Hart. The real Lila’s mother.

Knox shot me a vicious look over his shoulder, but rather than forcing me to leave, he gestured for me to come in, sparing us both that fight.

I slipped inside and closed the doors, sticking to a corner where Celia wouldn’t be able to see me. On the monitor, she leaned forward until her face took up the entire screen. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and the Hart eyes, but there was a fierceness to her that no one in their right mind would challenge.

Except Knox.

“I don’t care whether you approve or not, Creed. I am just as much a founder of the Blackcoats as you are, and the D.C. team is under my command. This is not up for discussion.”

“If you raid Somerset, everything we’ve worked for will be destroyed. We will once again be the enemy—do you understand?” said Knox, his hands tightening into fists.

My jaw dropped. Somerset was the traditional home of the Hart family, nestled in the heart of D.C., far away from the slums I’d grown up in. I knew eventually the Blackcoats would have to seize control of it to cement their power, but we weren’t ready for an invasion yet. The majority of the Blackcoat army was trapped in Elsewhere, slowly starving to death. Celia might have a few hundred people at her command, but Somerset was undoubtedly crawling with guards and Shields. It was suicide.

“I don’t care about raiding the manor,” said Celia. “I care about separating the impostor’s head from his body.”

“If you kill Daxton—”

“He isn’t Daxton.” Her voice rang out through the speakers, as clear as if she were standing right next to Knox. “How long have you known, Creed?”

Knox stiffened. “Lila told me late in the summer. She found out when Daxton tried to assault her.”

For a long moment, silence filled the office, and my heart pounded. “You’ve known for nearly six months, and you never said a word to me?” said Celia at last, her voice dangerously soft. “He tried to kill my daughter. He tried to kill me. All this time, all I had to do was tell the public who he really was—”

“And what good would that have done?” said Knox. “At best, Daxton—”

“Stop calling him Daxton.”

Knox took a deep breath and released it. “At best, Victor Mercer would have done exactly what he’s doing now—deny it and use your family to discredit the claim. Augusta would have backed him up, and you would have come out of it looking like a lunatic.”

“I could have leaked it to the press without my name attached.”

“No newspaper in the country would have printed it. They’re completely under the government’s control. At best, Victor would have forced the most trustworthy and liked members of the Hart family into backing his claims. At worst, we would have been at war before we were ready. Victor would have pulled no stops to protect his secret, and the Blackcoats would be nothing more than a footnote in the history books, if that. I knew if I told you the truth before we were ready, everything we worked for would be ruined. And that is why I kept it from you.”

Celia stared at him, her blue eyes wide and full of shock—or shame, maybe. Or sadness. Anger. Betrayal. All of it combined into something I couldn’t name. When she spoke, her voice trembled, as if it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to stop herself from bursting into flames. “How dare you.”

“How dare you try to destroy everything we’ve worked for,” said Knox. “You’re blinded by anger and revenge. You’ve lost sight of the objective. This isn’t about vengeance or payback for what Victor’s done to you. This is about the country and its half a billion people counting on us succeeding. If you kill Victor now, you’ll only turn him into a martyr, and no one will ever know who he really was. No one will care , because to them, he is Daxton Hart. Is that what you want? For that monster to go down in history as your brother?”

“Stick a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger,” snarled Celia, and a moment later, the screen went black.

IV Burn

Knox stood in the middle of the office, his shoulders slumped and his head down, taking one deep breath after another. I couldn’t tell if it was because he was trying not to lash out or break down or both.

“That—” I began. Knox snapped around to look at me, his dark eyes already accusing. I dropped my folded arms and let them hang loosely at my side. As often as we bickered and fought, we were still on the same side. “That was pretty badass of you, you know. Standing up to her like that.”

“It doesn’t matter.” His voice was tight and his words were clipped, and he lumbered over to the couch and dropped down gracelessly. “She’s going to raid Somerset and try to kill Daxton anyway.”

“Can’t really blame her,” I said slowly, not wanting to upset him more than he already was. “Lila’s the only family she has left. Maybe she’ll get her out of there and spare Daxton.”

Knox shook his head, his fingers tangling in his hair. “If she has a shot, she’ll take it. She isn’t thinking rationally.”

“Maybe he won’t be there.”

“We can play the maybe game all day, Kitty. In the end, we won’t know until it’s over.”

I was quiet for a moment, my gaze drifting over to the black screen. There had to be something we could do. “Have you tried contacting Sampson? He could put a stop to this.”