Page 11 of Queen


  “Getting my foot through pants hurts too much to try right now,” I said, tugging awkwardly at the waist. I’d worn plenty of fancy dresses as Lila, but I’d never gotten the hang of them completely. “Is it almost time for dinner?”

  “In a few minutes,” he said, closing the door behind him and turning the lock with a click. I looked up, frowning.

  “What—”

  “I have something for you.” He held up a small velvet box, the kind that usually held a ring or a fancy pair of earrings. Lila had had dozens of them in Somerset. “An early Christmas present.”

  I had no idea what day it was anymore, let alone how close it was to Christmas. A week, maybe, but I couldn’t be sure. “What is it?” I said, taking the box and weighing it in my hand.

  “Open it and see.”

  I untied the ribbon. He’d given me two gifts before: the first, a necklace that had doubled as several different kinds of lock picks, had been meant for Lila. The second had been a picture frame that, when the right button was pushed, revealed a photograph of me—the real me—and Benjy on the last Christmas we’d spent together as ourselves. Both were exactly what I’d needed at the time, even if I hadn’t known it then.

  I cracked open the box to reveal a tiny silver cuff that matched my necklace. It was simple—the kind of thing that blended in as an accessory rather than standing out. Nothing that would capture notice, even if Daxton was looking right at it.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, and it was. It was a fine piece of jewelry, with silver vines wrapping around to form the cuff. “How am I supposed to, uh—wear it?”

  “Here, allow me.” Greyson plucked it from the velvet box and scooted closer to me. “Look at the television.”

  Obediently I turned my head, and Greyson slid the cuff onto the cartilage of my ear, sliding it down until it rested just above the lobe. He gave it a gentle tug, and it stayed on firmly, no piercing required. I touched it, running my fingertips over the metal. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He inched away to give us both a little more room and folded his hands in his lap. “It’s one part of a three-piece set.”

  “Where are the other pieces?” I said, and he held up his wrist. A plain silver cuff link caught the light.

  “Like it?”

  I smirked. “I’ll like it better once I know what it does.”

  “They’re communicators. As soon as I activate it, all three pieces will connect, no matter how far apart they are. You could be on the other side of the country, and I would still hear you.”

  “How? That’s on your wrist,” I said. “Unless you have some weird ear anatomy going on—”

  He chuckled, and after the day we’d both had, it was a welcome sound. “The cuff links are a little different. They come with a piece that slides on the inner part of the ear, right on the cartilage.” He turned to show me, tapping on the part of his ear that stuck out. “It’s in there, and it won’t fall off until I decide to remove it.”

  I tried to spot whatever it was he was talking about, but to no avail. “Who has the third piece? Lila?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll make one for her eventually, if she wants. But I had one smuggled out to Knox. He should be receiving it in the next couple days.”

  “You—what? Knox?” My mouth dropped open. “How did you—”

  “The less you know, the better,” he said. “Just trust me on this, Kitty. They’ll work. And whether you leave or Lila and I leave, we’ll all have a way to communicate.”

  I threw my arms around him, my heart swelling with gratitude and that same acceptance I’d felt earlier, when he’d done nothing more than help me with my crutches. This was what family really was. “You are a genius.”

  “I’m not. I just see things differently, that’s all.” He awkwardly hugged me back, and a moment passed before he said, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other growing up.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” I said, still holding on to him. He relaxed a little in my embrace. “We’ll make up for it when the war’s over. We’ll go on vacation somewhere, talk about stuff, figure each other out—”

  “Is that what siblings do?” he joked. “My brother—our brother, I guess—he mostly ignored me.”

  Jameson, Greyson’s older brother and the original heir to the title of Prime Minister, had been killed in the same bombing that had taken the lives of the real Daxton Hart and his wife. Greyson had only been spared thanks to that marvelous brain of his, when he’d skipped the outing to tinker on his inventions instead, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for it. “I won’t ignore you,” I said, as I let him go and tapped my cuff. “I won’t even ask how to turn this thing off in case you get too chatty.”

  “There’s a gemstone on the side,” he said with a smile. “All you have to do is slide it down. Slide it back up to turn it on. Obviously you’ll want to keep it on as much as possible, just in case, but if you absolutely need your privacy—well, I didn’t want to give you any reason to take it off.”

  “I won’t,” I promised, and I pressed my lips together. “I’ll miss you, Greyson. Stay safe, all right? Whether I’m the one who goes, or you and Lila are.”

  “You too,” he said, all traces of humor evaporating. “If he lets you leave, this way you’ll be able to tell Knox where to find you. You’ll be able to rejoin them.”

  A second chance with the Blackcoats. It seemed almost too good to be true. I nudged his arm. “Don’t jinx it. Daxton could decide not to let any of us go.”

  “It’s possible,” he allowed, and for a moment, a shadow passed over his face. “A lot of things are possible. But you and Lila both made very good points. He might have won a few battles, but he’ll figure out soon enough that he’s losing the war. If he backs out, we’ll renegotiate in the near future. Either way, we’re all smarter than him individually, and he knows it. He’d be an idiot to keep all three of us here indefinitely and give us a chance to work together.”

  “He is an idiot,” I said. “One who thinks he’s a genius. They’re the most dangerous kind.”

  “No, the most dangerous kind are the ones with power,” he said.

  “And Daxton now single-handedly rules over the entire country.”

  Greyson covered my hand with his and squeezed. The weight of the amendment’s implications settled on my shoulders, and I took a deep, calming breath. The crazier and more desperate Daxton grew, the more enemies he would make. The situation seemed impossible right now, but he was slowly digging his own grave. We just had to be patient.

  “Was the real Daxton anything like this?” I said. All my life, I’d been fed the public image of Daxton Hart—an upstanding family man who cared about the people and wanted us all to succeed. It was nothing more than propaganda, of course, but after meeting Victor Mercer’s version of Daxton, curiosity snaked through me, leaving me with more questions than would likely ever have answers.

  “He was—smarter,” said Greyson after a moment. “He was still ruthless, and up until now, I think he would have mostly done the same things. But he was much cleverer about achieving his goals. You wouldn’t even know he’d entrapped you until it was over, and he had his metaphorical hands around your neck.”

  That was something I could picture all too easily. “Was he violent?”

  “He used violence as a tool. That’s what Victor does wrong,” said Greyson. “He uses violence for pleasure. It’s not the same. It’s never been the same, and Grandmother must have known. I think that’s why she kept such a tight leash on him.”

  I exhaled. Victor’s Daxton seemed to have an endless thirst for blood and sadism, but I thought I could live with being the real Daxton’s daughter as long as I knew that piece of him wasn’t real. “We’ll get him. Or he’ll get himself. One way or the other, he won’t last much longer.”

 
“I hope you’re right,” he said with a flicker of a smile, and I wrapped my fingers around his.

  “I’ll make sure I am.”

  At dinner, Daxton went on and on about how pleased he was by the public’s reception of the news that he had dissolved the Ministers of the Union. It was true that the Ministers had taken the brunt of public disapproval for the various laws they had passed, but they were laws that, if Daxton hadn’t come up with himself, he had certainly supported. I listened silently, letting him ramble. It would have been easy to mention the fact that he controlled the media, and therefore anything they reported was biased in his favor, but I didn’t want to do or say anything to upset his good mood.

  At last, once dinner was over, we moved down a level to what must have been his office. It was guarded by two soldiers and an electronic lock, and behind the double doors sat an exact replica of his office in Somerset. Bookcases lined the walls, a large mahogany desk stretched across the back of the room—there were even fountains at the entrance and the Hart family portrait hanging on the back wall. The only difference I could see was the fact that there was no air vent in the corner that would grant me access. As far as I’d been able to determine, the vents in the Stronghold were too narrow for even a small child to fit through, let alone an adult.

  A small camera crew waited for us, and I took my seat on a short couch in front of a bookcase. While a woman did my makeup and hair, Daxton read the short speech aloud for me twice, and he made me repeat it again and again to make sure I had it memorized. I’d never been able to read, but it wasn’t until I’d been Masked as Lila that it had become a real problem.

  “Good luck,” said Greyson, and Lila flashed me what she must have thought was a supportive smile. Instead she looked like she’d taken a sip of vinegar.

  “Thanks,” I said. The speech was simple: tell the world who I was. Prove it by flashing the X on the back of my neck that was hidden beneath my hair. And say in no uncertain terms that my earlier accusations about Daxton’s identity were false. Daxton had written the speech himself, and it was only forty-five seconds long at most.

  Easy.

  But when the lights came on and the producer counted down, I glanced at Lila and Greyson standing in the corner together, and part of me—the stupid part that was responsible for every mess I’d made in the past four months—screamed at me not to listen to Daxton. To say anything that would help the rebellion. To do something to prove I was worthy of being a Blackcoat.

  The red light came on, and I held my breath. For the second time that week, I had the entire country’s attention. I could have been brave. I could have said anything. I could have given the Blackcoats the push they needed to win this.

  Instead, word for word, I recited exactly what Daxton had told me to say.

  My bravery wasn’t worth his retaliation, and I knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t take it out on me. He would kill Greyson. Or torture him in front of me. Whichever he thought would hurt me more. And whatever problems I was causing the Blackcoats by revealing myself to be alive, it was worth it for the small chance that Daxton would let Greyson and Lila go.

  I stared resolutely at the camera as I spoke, but I could feel their eyes on me. Those forty-five seconds were the longest of my life, and when at last the camera turned off and the red light darkened, I dared a glance in their direction, only to find Lila staring at me as if I’d just gift wrapped the Blackcoats and handed their surrender to Daxton. Despite all the times she’d done the exact same thing, somehow she’d expected me to act differently, to take that risk.

  I couldn’t. Not when their necks were on the line.

  I’d done my best for the Blackcoats, telling the country my entire story just a few days ago. It was up to them to decide what they believed now. And if that wasn’t good enough for Lila, so be it. I was the one who had to live with myself after this was all said and done, and I couldn’t do that with Lila’s or Greyson’s blood on my hands.

  “Very good,” said Daxton, clapping delightedly. “You’re a true star, Kitty. I never quite saw it before all of this unfortunate madness, but you, my darling—you’re something special.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to keep me and let Lila and Greyson go?” I said, and he stood, offering me his hand. Against my better judgment, I took it.

  “Oh, no, no—I couldn’t possibly force them to leave the safety of the Stronghold, not when there’s a war raging out there,” he said, his eyes widening innocently. “You, however, seem terribly eager to leave us.”

  “I—” I opened and shut my mouth. I couldn’t tell him no, not when he would jump on the chance to keep all three of us. But I couldn’t bring myself to say yes, either. “I’m worth my weight in gold, remember?”

  “You are, and you just told the public everything I needed you to say,” he murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m afraid my use for you has diminished dramatically, so really, it only makes sense that you be the one I release. Unless you’ve had a change of heart.”

  He was going to make me say it. Of course he was. I relaxed as much as I could and smiled. “Not at all. As fun as it’s been here with you, I wouldn’t want to distract you from all the important work you’re doing.”

  “Oh, but what a delightful distraction you are.” He brushed his knuckles up and down my jaw. “Your helicopter leaves at midnight. Don’t be late. I will miss you terribly, Kitty.”

  “Maybe we’ll meet again someday,” I said sweetly. Plenty of people deserved to watch him bleed to death, but selfishly I wanted to be the one to slit his throat. He patted my cheek and finally walked away, leaving me to exhale sharply and fumble for my crutches.

  So this was it. Whatever Daxton planned on doing to me—if he would keep to his word and drop me off in D.C., or if he would abandon me in the middle of nowhere and let the elements have me—I wouldn’t be here to protect Greyson and Lila. It would be back to square one for them, and I could only hope everything that had transpired that day would give one of them the courage to do what had to be done. Greyson was smart. He could figure out a foolproof plan to kill Daxton, or at least as foolproof as a plan like that could get. And Lila was braver than she thought she was. She would find the courage to carry it out.

  Whatever happened to me, the game had changed now. The Ministers of the Union, the file—something monumental had shifted in this war, and none of us would be able to understand the true weight of it until we saw it in hindsight, but at least all of this hadn’t been for nothing. There was no turning back now—not for the Blackcoats, not for Daxton, and definitely not for the people.

  I was halfway back to my room when the click of heels echoed down the hallway to meet me. At my slow pace, it didn’t take long for Lila to catch up. “I can’t believe you,” she snarled.

  “If I went off script, Daxton would have hurt you or Greyson, and neither of you would’ve had any chance of getting out of here,” I said. “I wasn’t going to risk that.”

  “And look how that turned out,” she spat. “We have to stay here, while you get to go back to your little bunker and save the world.”

  “You think I want to be the one to go?” I said incredulously. “I’d give anything for you and Greyson to be the ones released. You’ve both been through enough, and Greyson especially—he doesn’t deserve this.”

  “Oh, and I do?”

  I scowled. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?” she said furiously as she stormed down the hallway. “Because the more you talk, the less I understand.”

  I gritted my teeth. For someone who seemed to hate Daxton, she certainly seemed to trust his word. “You realize there is a distinct possibility that this is a trap, right?”

  Lila blinked at me. “And?”

  Did she really not get it? “And by this time tomorrow, it’s
entirely possible I’ll be dead.”

  “He wouldn’t kill you. It would give the Blackcoats the martyr they need to rally the country.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, you’re the great Kitty Doe, with nine damn lives. You don’t know how to die.”

  “No one’s immortal. Not me, not you, not Daxton—no one.” I ran my fingers through my hair, frustrated. She didn’t get it, and I didn’t know how to make her understand. “It doesn’t matter if killing me would be stupid. He’s long past the point of being rational. If that’s what he wants to do, then you know he’s damn well going to do it.”

  “It’d be worth it to get out of this hellhole.” Lila shoved over a vase containing fresh roses. It crashed to the ground, shattering into a hundred pieces and spilling water and roses everywhere. I quickly hobbled out of the way.

  “You think this is hell? You have a warm bed to sleep in, food to eat, clothes to wear, you don’t have to handle human hearts every single day—”

  “Will you just shut up already?” She whirled around to face me, and I fell silent, stunned to see tears in her eyes. “So I didn’t spend a few weeks in Elsewhere. Sorry I’m not as stupid as you are, but that sure as hell doesn’t make this place any easier to bear. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had even the illusion of freedom? Yet here you are, with a golden ticket out of here, and you look like you’re heading to your own funeral. I would give anything to get out of this place, but you can’t even bother to appreciate the fact that because of Greyson and me, you might actually have a future now.”

  “Of course I appreciate it,” I said, gingerly picking my way around the vase shards. “That doesn’t make this any safer for me, though. And if you wanted to go so badly, then you shouldn’t have tried to make that deal in the first place. Daxton might’ve let you go if you hadn’t—”

  “It was Greyson’s idea, not mine. Believe me, I would have been more than happy to take the first ride out of here and never look back.” We reached my bedroom door, and Lila yanked it open for me. “When you get back, do me a favor, all right?”