by Aimee Carter
“It’s worth a shot.”
“I—” I blinked. “That’s a terrible pun, and no. We’re going to do this the right way. No taking chances that might not pan out.”
He watched me for a long moment. “So you’re in?”
I gritted my teeth. That was the plan anyway, wasn’t it? Wait for Daxton to die. But Benjy wasn’t supposed to get involved. And even though we might not be together in that way anymore, the instinct to protect him still roared inside me. “One condition. You let me do it. No stupid risks. No wasting your second chance on this. Greyson has to live to take over the title, and you have to live to help him. I’m the one who’s expendable. Is that clear?”
His expression darkened. “You’re not expendable.”
“Is that clear, Benjamin?”
He worried his lower lip. “All right. But we come up with a plan. A good one. Solid, foolproof—”
“Nothing’s ever foolproof.”
“As close as we can get, then.”
I nodded. “I have no intention of getting caught. Or dying.”
“You’d better not.” He gave me a look and glanced over his shoulder. “I need to go. For real this time. We’ll come up with a plan, and we’ll find a way. Even if we’re the only two Blackcoats left, we will make sure it wasn’t all in vain.”
My mouth went dry, and all I could do was nod. “We’ll only get one chance. You know that, right?”
“One chance is all we need.” He flashed me another grin, and with that, I was alone again. But for the first time since I’d watched Elsewhere disappear, I didn’t feel like I was on my own. Somehow, someway, we would find a way to kill Daxton, and we would end this once and for all.
XIII
Bugged
Though we had moved halfway across the country, that night at dinner it seemed as if we were right back where we started. Greyson and I walked into the Creeds’ dining room, which was large enough to seat all the former Ministers and their families with ease, and once again the servants escorted us to the foot of the table, beyond where we could be any real threat. Some part of me had held out hope that being back in D.C. would change things—that he wouldn’t keep us on such an obvious leash. But of course Daxton had no reason to care about appearances anymore, not when the truth of his identity was out there, and no one had any power to do anything about it. So what if the servants returned to their families and gossiped about how the Prime Minister clearly didn’t trust his own son and niece? He was untouchable.
It was exactly that arrogance I was counting on, though. Eventually he would give. Eventually he would make a mistake. And when he did, I would be ready.
I hadn’t seen Benjy since his promise to procure a gun, but soon enough, he and the former Minister Bradley entered together. Neither of them spoke as Benjy joined us, but Daxton clapped gleefully.
“Bradley! Yes, do come sit here with me. We have much to discuss, and we wouldn’t want to bore the children with the details, now, would we?”
Minister Bradley raised his chin, his handlebar mustache gleaming in the light, and with a pompous sniff, he passed us and made his way to Daxton. Good. They deserved each other.
“How is everyone enjoying our new home?” said Daxton as the servants hurried to set Minister Bradley a place nearby. “Greyson, Lila, you’ve had the pleasure of touring the property before, have you not?”
“We have,” said Greyson in a painfully neutral voice. As much as I would have enjoyed watching him lash out at Daxton, it was safer this way. “Quite a few things have changed.”
“Have they? I can’t say I’ve noticed. Lila,” he added in a faintly sinister tone, and I snapped my head up to glare at him. “Have things changed much from your memory of it?”
A test, whether he knew it was one or not. He had been acting as Daxton Hart long enough that he had undoubtedly visited Creed Manor several times. I had no idea if things had changed, or if Greyson was merely imagining it. But as long as Daxton seemed determined to pretend everything was perfectly all right between us, I would be determined to prove they weren’t.
“It’s soulless,” I snapped, not bothering with any form of neutrality. “I’m not surprised you can’t see it, considering you have no soul.”
For a split second, everyone in the room seemed to tense. Bradley blinked and focused on Daxton, Greyson’s fork stopped halfway to his salad, and Benjy stilled, staring at me as if he couldn’t believe I’d said that to Daxton’s face. But of course he hadn’t been with us for the past month, so he had no idea that this was our version of normal.
I half expected Daxton to dismiss me from the room and find some twisted way to punish me later for embarrassing him in front of his guest, but instead, he merely chuckled. “Oh, I know exactly what soulless means, darling. We saw it earlier today, didn’t we? In the ash of Elsewhere.”
I clutched my fork so hard that it began to bend. If I’d had the skill to do so, I would have flung it across the dining room straight into Daxton’s eye. Something to practice in my spare time, I mused.
Before things could get uglier, Minister Bradley cleared his throat. “Yes, about Elsewhere, Prime Minister. There are several replacements I would like to speak with you about, if you’ll excuse the grisly talk over dinner...”
The pair of them bent their heads together, and though I could feel the heat of Daxton’s stare every now and then, I purposely ignored them for the rest of dinner. Greyson, Benjy, and I remained quiet for the most part, only commenting on neutral topics when we spoke at all. The weather, the rebuilding of Somerset, how nice it was to be out of the Stronghold at last—we avoided any mention of Elsewhere, and none of us said a word about Benjy’s near-execution. I couldn’t be overly familiar with him anyway, in case I accidentally tipped Daxton off. However long this tightrope walk lasted, I would have to convince not only Daxton that I was Lila, but myself, too. By the end of it, I wasn’t so sure I would recognize this new me at all.
It was strange, looking at Benjy and knowing he wasn’t mine anymore, not the way he had been before. I caught myself thinking of him as my boyfriend more times than I could count, but slowly I began to remove myself from that connection. I would have to, not only to be convincing as Lila, but because we weren’t Benjy and Kitty anymore. We were just Benjy and Kitty. Separate. And I would have to get used to it sooner rather than later.
At long last, after the dessert course had been served, Daxton stood. “I hope you all have an enjoyable evening in our new home. It’s only temporary, I assure you—construction on Somerset is due to begin any day now—but it’s always best to be as comfortable as possible.”
He winked, and a shiver ran down my spine. I didn’t want to know what constituted comfortable for him.
Once he was gone, with Minister Bradley trailing at his heels, the three of us stood. “I need to finish up with the Prime Minister,” said Benjy, but before he left, he hesitated and leaned toward Greyson and me. “Be in Greyson’s room at ten o’clock.”
Before I could ask what was happening then, he disappeared, leaving Greyson and I to exchange a look. There was no use speculating—a servant could overhear, and we wouldn’t be any closer to the truth anyhow. But together we ascended the stairs, and once I’d changed out of my dinner clothes, I joined Greyson in his suite.
“What is that?” I said, making a face. Greyson stood beside a glowing three-dimensional blueprint of something that looked more like an insect than anything useful. Sometime that afternoon, he had turned his sitting room into a makeshift laboratory, complete with the equipment he’d taken to the Stronghold with him—the only equipment he had left after the bombing of Somerset, I realized.
“It’s a device I intend to start working on tonight, if I can get the mechanisms right,” he said, his brow furrowed as he spun the image around, searching for something.
“It look
s like a cockroach,” I said.
“Excellent. That’s what it’s supposed to be. A bug.” He motioned for me to join him, and I crossed over to his workstation. “It isn’t a new concept, of course, spy devices that are hidden in plain sight. But this one’s designed to move around exactly like an insect would. I wanted to attempt a common housefly first, but the wings are too complex for me to create with my limited equipment.”
“But an exact replica of a cockroach is no problem,” I drawled. He blinked, and I shook my head. “You’re a genius. You know that, right?”
“Yes.” He winked at me before peering at the insect again. “Once I get the leg movement right, I should be able to steer it around the manor without detection. I have a few subjects I caught in the cellar to give me an idea of what I’m missing.”
He motioned to a jar nearby, and against my better judgment, I glanced inside. “You’re keeping cockroaches as pets now?”
“There are a surprising number of them in the manor. But don’t worry,” he added quickly. “I only found them on the lower levels.”
“Cockroaches don’t bother me. We’re already living with one,” I muttered, sitting down on the sofa.
“Once I have this little guy up and running, we’ll have a way to track every move Daxton makes without ever being seen.”
“Unless someone spots your bug and tries to smash it,” I said, and he shrugged.
“That’s the beauty of it. Unless they’re looking too closely, if they step on it or otherwise destroy it, it’s designed to resemble a dead cockroach.”
I shuddered. “Still a genius, but definitely twisted.”
“It was a necessity. I’m not completely unaware of how the presence of a cockroach in the upper levels of the manor would be viewed.”
He straightened, and once his eyes were on me instead of his new toy, his entire demeanor seemed to shift. It never ceased to amaze me how different he became in his workshop—how scientific and methodical and distracted he grew. He was wholly focused on his inventions, and though part of me was jealous that he had something to distract him, the fact that he was working on an actual bug made it clear he was still as determined as I was to reignite the rebellion and take Daxton down for good.
“You must be happy to see Benjy again,” he said, and I nodded.
“It’s—complicated. He’s not—we’re not together anymore. Can’t be, not when I have to live as Lila completely.”
“Oh.” His face fell. “I’m sorry. That must be hard.”
“He’s still my best friend. He always will be,” I said quickly. “But—yeah. It isn’t fun. And being here where Knox grew up...”
I trailed off, and neither of us had to say anything. We both missed Knox. As hard as it was for me, being here without him, I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was for Greyson, who had real memories of this place. Of Knox here, in his home. No doubt it felt empty without him.
“What do you think Benjy wants?” said Greyson at last, and I toyed with a loose thread on the sofa.
“He wants to help us kill Daxton,” I said. “We can trust him. He would never betray us.”
Greyson frowned, and he spun the hologram around again. “Maybe not on purpose, but he’s going to be with him every day now, and Daxton’s listening.”
“Benjy’s too smart for that,” I said firmly. “He’s a VI. Victor Mercer was only a V, remember?”
A ghost of a smile replaced his frown. “I thought the ranks were unfair and meant nothing.”
“They don’t, but—” I stopped and sighed. “Just let me have this, all right?”
“All right. Just this once,” he teased. “Only because it’s Daxton.”
I watched him work that evening as we both waited for ten o’clock to come around. It was incredible, seeing what he could do with only a few tools and his hands. Bit by bit, he began to create his bug.
Even if this didn’t work, I was confident the three of us would be able to come up with some kind of plan. We might not have had the resources and the manpower of the full Blackcoat Rebellion, but sometimes all it took was one small ripple to change the course of fate. And we were all determined to do exactly that.
At last, at the stroke of ten, a soft knock sounded on the door. While Greyson hastily hid his bug from sight, even though I’d insisted Benjy wouldn’t tell, I stood and opened the door. Benjy stood on the other side, his lips pressed together anxiously, and I recoiled as soon as I saw why.
Minister Bradley hovered over his shoulder, his brow sweaty and his paunch heaving from the long walk.
“Can I help you, Benjamin? Minister Bradley?” I said stiffly, exactly the way Lila would had she been faced with the same pair. Behind me, I could hear Greyson scramble to clear the last evidence of his bug from the room.
“Don’t worry, he’s here to help,” said Benjy, and I scowled.
“Help with what?”
“Killing the Prime Minister, of course,” said Minister Bradley. I groaned inwardly. Of all the people to trust— Benjy must have known this was a trap.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you say it any louder, I’m sure Daxton would be more than happy to torture the truth out of you,” I said, starting to close the door. Benjy stuck his foot in the way, however, stopping it with his boot.
“Lila. Think about it. He wants to stop him as much as we do,” said Benjy in a hushed voice. “He came to me, not the other way around.”
Lila, not Kitty. So Benjy hadn’t trusted him with everything. That was a small comfort in the face of the rest of it, though, and I gritted my teeth. “Did it ever occur to you how simple it would be for Daxton to tell him to do exactly that?”
“But he didn’t,” said Minister Bradley. I could hear Greyson approach, and he stopped directly behind me.
“Prove it,” said Greyson simply, and as if this was what he’d been waiting for, Minister Bradley opened his jacket, revealing a silver gun.
“This is for you, my dear Lila.” Pulling it from the holster, he took it by the barrel and handed it to me grip-first. If I’d wanted to, I could have easily pulled the trigger. “I thought it might come in handy.”
I stared at the weapon in my hand, my mind whirling. It had to be a trap. There was no reason for a greedy, selfish, disgusting pig of a man like Bradley to help us. If anything, he had every reason to betray us to prove his loyalty to Daxton, thus securing a position in the new government.
But here was a chance—a real chance—warm and heavy in my hand. No matter what tricks Daxton might have been willing to pull, he never would have given us a way to kill him.
My grip on the pistol tightened, and I pointed it directly at Bradley. “Should I see if it’s a fake?”
“Oh, it isn’t,” he said, ducking his head with such speed that I knew it had to be genuine. I’d never seen him move so fast before. “It’s very, very real, and very, very loaded. If you wouldn’t mind, my dear Lila...”
“The safety’s on anyway,” I said, lowering it. To Greyson, I added, “What do you think?”
He shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt to see what he has to say.”
With the gun securely in my hand, I stepped aside, and finally Benjy and Minister Bradley entered. Neither of them made a move to sit down in the living area, and instead we lingered in a circle near the doorway. More beads of sweat formed on Bradley’s forehead, and he dabbed his face with a handkerchief. No one could fake that kind of anxiety.
“I won’t stay long,” he began. “I’d like to help in any way I can. There’s a great deal of information out there regarding the remaining Blackcoats, and if you’d like me to pass it along—”
“No,” I said instantly. Benjy and Greyson gave me strange looks, but I ignored them. “It won’t help us in here, and if you’re telling the truth, then we s
houldn’t know anyway.”
“Right,” said Greyson, catching on quickly. “The less we know, the better. That way Daxton can’t get it out of us.”
Minister Bradley exhaled. “All right. But if anything does become useful—”
“Why are you helping us?” I demanded. He fell silent. “You have everything to lose. Power, prestige, privilege, your prime position as Daxton’s lapdog—”
“It is not what I have to lose, dear Lila, but what I have to gain.” He lowered his voice several notches and leaned in, though the walls were thick enough that I doubted anyone trying to listen through the doorway could hear us. “Is it so strange a thought that perhaps I do not want the country run by a madman?”
“You didn’t seem to think he was mad when you got everything you wanted,” I said.
“Perhaps I was blinded by greed then, yes. But even I cannot ignore what happened in the Stronghold. I am not interested in a dictatorship, and though you may believe otherwise, I do care about this country. Deeply.”
“What do you want in return?” said Greyson. “When I’m Prime Minister, what price am I going to have to pay for your help now?”
Minister Bradley sniffed. “I assure you I am doing this out of the goodness of my heart—”
“We don’t trust the goodness of your heart,” I snapped. “We trust your self-interest.”
At last he sighed and wiped his forehead once more. “Very well. Allow me to have a place in your new government. I quite enjoy my job, and I do not want to lose it in the revolution. I promise I will look out for the best interests of the people, and I will follow your agenda.”
“I don’t want a puppet,” said Greyson.
“And I do not wish to be a puppet,” said Bradley. “That is what I am now, though, with your father. Or—the man claiming to be your father.” He raised an eyebrow, and Greyson looked at his feet. “I do not want to give up my lifestyle, but I do not want to concede my morality, either, or what is left of it. It is possible to be selfish while looking out for the people, my boy. I do not claim to be perfect, and it has taken me a great deal to get this far. But I hope in time you are willing to trust me, or at the very least trust my desire to have a place in your new world, when the inevitable comes.” He nodded to the gun. “Use it wisely.”
