by Aimee Carter
A knock on my door made me jump. Knox wasn’t due for hours, and I scrambled off the sofa and padded over, half expecting him to be waiting with a change of plans.
Instead, Greyson stood outside my suite. His shoulders were hunched and his hands shoved into his pockets, and when he looked at me, the coldness in his eyes made me shiver.
“You didn’t come see me.”
I frowned, wary of the accusation in his voice. “You didn’t come see me, either,” I said, silently willing Celia or Knox to appear.
Resignation passed over Greyson’s face. “You said you’d come see my inventions, and you didn’t.”
Right. I shrugged, not sure what Lila would’ve said or done. No one had told me if she got along with Greyson. “I can come see them now, if you’d like.”
“Don’t bother.” At first I thought he was going to leave, but then he pulled something out of his pocket and thrust it toward me. “I made this for you while you were gone.”
I took the necklace. From a distance it looked like a simple silver disk dangling from a chain, but when I examined it, I could see tiny grooves running through it like a labyrinth, breaking it into sections.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Thank you.”
Greyson ducked his head, but not before I spotted the hint of a smile. “It’s not just a necklace, you know.” With nimble fingers he pulled a section of the disk apart, and it unfolded into an instrument I instantly recognized.
“A lock pick?” It put the crude ones Benjy and I made out of paper clips and hairpins to shame.
Greyson nodded. “There are three different ones in there that’ll open any lock, and if you put it together and pass it over an electronic security device, it’ll open any of those, too. Before you left...” He hesitated. “When you said you felt trapped, I thought maybe this would help. So no one can make you stay if you don’t want to.”
He handed the necklace back to me, and I stared at it, speechless. I wanted to tell him that no one had ever given me this kind of gift before, but this wasn’t for me. It was for Lila.
It wasn’t fair for Greyson to go on thinking that I was his cousin when I wasn’t. He and Lila must have been close if he’d made her something like this, and it would only be a matter of time before he found out I wasn’t her.
“Greyson,” I said, brushing my fingers against the disk. It was warm against my skin, probably from his pocket. Or maybe he’d clutched it all the way here, worried I wouldn’t like it. That Lila wouldn’t like it. “I need to tell you something.”
“There you are.”
Augusta’s voice stole the confession from my tongue. She set her hand on Greyson’s shoulder, but her icy gaze was focused on me.
“I’ve been looking all over for you, Greyson. Your father wants to see you in his study. Just because we are working from home today does not mean you can skip your lessons.”
Greyson made a face. “I decided to take the day off. Someone else can learn how to run the country for once. Like Lila.”
Augusta’s grip on his shoulder tightened, and she steered him away from me and toward the atrium. “Lila has her own duties to attend to. Besides, she is not the one who will take over for your father.”
He twisted around to look at me, and I forced a sympathetic smile. Lila would probably have felt sorry for him, but all I could imagine was Greyson on one of the floating platforms in Elsewhere, cackling as he shot into a sea of innocent faces.
I clutched his gift and pushed the image out of my mind. Just because Daxton was all right with hunting his own people didn’t mean Greyson was, and I refused to think that anyone capable of creating such a beautiful gift could be evil. Not until he proved me wrong. In the meantime, I had to tell him who I really was before something I did gave it away. I was short on friends here as it was. The last thing I wanted was to lose any trust he might otherwise have been willing to offer.
I studied the necklace for a moment, and when I looked up, Augusta stood in front of me. Greyson was gone.
“Do not talk to my grandson,” she said. “If he initiates a conversation, you will make up an excuse and walk away, do you understand?”
“He knocked on my door. What was I supposed to do, slam it in his face?”
“Yes,” she said. “Greyson must not know about this. If you tell him, I will not hesitate to make arrangements for you and your little friend to be reunited Elsewhere.”
My little friend. Benjy. “If you hurt him, I’ll go straight to the media and tell the entire world what you and Daxton did.”
“By all means, go ahead and try. Give me an excuse to have you executed for treason.”
She took a step toward me. Even though she was close enough for me to see every line in her face, I refused to back away.
“You may think you have a modicum of control, but I have a dozen stories ready to explain away your presence here. Even if you do live long enough to talk to the media, I control what news is presented to my people, and I assure you, your words will die before anyone else hears them.” She touched my jaw, trailing her cold fingertip down to my chin. “You will stay away from my grandson. Understood?”
I shook my head. “He has a right to know his cousin’s dead.”
“He has the rights I decide to give him, as do you and everyone else in this country.” She straightened, her stare never leaving mine. “Do not underestimate me, Kitty Doe, not even for a moment. Because if you do, I promise you will spend the rest of your short life regretting it.”
Without another word, Augusta turned on her heel and walked away. Clenching my fists, I slammed the door and locked it, not caring if it was something Lila would have done. Whatever it took, I would find Benjy that night, and even if we had to leave the city, I would get him to safety. He’d been protecting me nearly all our lives, and now it was my turn to protect him.
* * *
Knox knocked on my door at exactly ten-thirty. When I opened it, he gave me a once-over and raised his eyebrows. “I thought we were going clubbing, not looting the place.”
“You’re wearing all black, too,” I said, grabbing a leather jacket from the closet. I’d dressed in a pair of fitted black pants and a black silk tank top, and at the last minute, I’d crammed a matching hat in my pocket. If I tucked my hair up, no one would be able to see the telltale blond, and the silk scarf in my other pocket would cover the VII on the back of my neck. With any luck, I would have a chance of getting to the Heights without being spotted.
“So I am.” He offered me his arm, and when I wrinkled my nose, he chuckled. “Let’s go before someone sees us. Wouldn’t want to get caught before we even leave the wing.”
I trailed after him into the hallway, expecting to head to the atrium. Instead he opened the door to his suite, and I hesitated. No matter how much I trusted him relative to everyone else in Somerset, that didn’t mean I wanted to see his bedroom.
“Don’t give me that look,” he said. “This is how we’re getting out.”
“I’m not afraid to knee you if I have to,” I said as I ducked past him and entered his sitting room.
It was exactly like mine, except decorated in navy blue instead of white. The fireplace crackled, and it had a homey feel to it that my suite didn’t. He led me down a short corridor, and I was so pleased his suite was half the size of mine that I almost didn’t notice when he opened the closet door.
“In here,” he said, and I snorted.
“I am not going in your closet.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, and I stood there stupidly, trying to decide what to do. I heard a rustle and a soft scraping sound on the other side, and with a huff, I yanked open the door.
He wasn’t there. I squinted in the darkness, pushing the jackets aside, but all that was behind them
was wall.
“Up here.”
I jumped. Above me Knox leaned out of a hole in the ceiling with a flashlight in hand. The opening was too big to be the air vent I’d discovered the day before, and Knox dropped down a rope ladder.
“How did you find this?” I said as I hauled myself up. He reached down to help me, but I pushed his hands away.
“Someone else showed me,” he said. “It doesn’t see much use, but it’ll get us out of Somerset.”
I pulled myself up into the ceiling. It was an entire walkway, high enough for me to stand, and I spotted a railing a few feet away. “Are the other rooms connected, too?”
“Just this one,” he said, covering the hole with what looked like a piece of ceiling. “C’mon, and keep quiet. If someone’s on the other side of the walls, they could hear us.”
The layer of dust on everything made my nose itch, but I held in my sneeze. Knox and his flashlight led the way, and we headed down a rickety staircase that creaked underneath my feet. It wasn’t until we reached a heavy wooden door several levels below the basement that Knox spoke again.
“The tunnel goes on for about a mile underground, and when it ends, we’ll be on the other side of the wall. Think you can manage it?”
I gave him a dirty look and snatched the flashlight from him. As I marched into the tunnel, which was dark and dank and smelled of earth, he chuckled.
There were no turns, so I didn’t have to ask Knox for directions. Except for the shuffle of our footsteps, it was eerily silent, and I could hear him breathing behind me. Finally I couldn’t take the quiet anymore, and I glanced over my shoulder to look at him.
“What are we going to do?” I said. “Hang around a club for hours and drink ourselves stupid?”
“Something like that. Don’t you want to be surprised?”
“I hate surprises.”
He smirked. “I don’t blame you.”
We walked along in silence for a few more seconds. “You said we’re meeting friends,” I said. “Shouldn’t I at least know their names?”
“Lila didn’t.”
“But they were her friends.”
“When you’re as famous and powerful as Lila was, you have lots of friends,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. Lila hated them as much as you will.”
I didn’t ask. If all went well, I wouldn’t have to spend more than a few minutes with them before I had the chance to slip away.
When we reached the other end of the tunnel, Knox took the flashlight back and led me up another old staircase. This time the door was made of metal, and though it looked rusted, the hinges must have been well oiled, because it didn’t squeak when he opened it.
As soon as I stepped through the doorway, I understood why. We were in an alleyway somewhere beyond the walls of Somerset, less than ten yards away from a busy and brightly lit street. Knox pulled the door shut behind him, and this time he took my arm without asking. His flashlight was gone.
“Just act natural,” he said, leading me to the street. Despite the late hour, there were people everywhere, laughing and chatting as they leaned against the moving walkways. When Knox and I stepped on, heads turned our way, and Knox’s grip on my arm tightened.
The walkway made me feel like I was floating. There was a rail to hold on to, but Knox was sturdy, and I’d seen pictures of him and Lila out together. They were always arm in arm, so letting go of him wasn’t an option even if I could’ve wriggled away. With any luck, he wouldn’t be as strict about it in the club.
Above us, screens lit up with the same kind of news scrolls that appeared at the bottom of the television. The monitors secured on the sides of buildings loudly advertised different products for things that as a III I could never afford and as Lila I would never need, and I attempted to look as bored as possible. Lila had probably been down this street hundreds of times before.
We passed shop after shop, some with magnificent window displays showing off the latest in fashion or electronics, and others that belonged to the intimate cafés where only the rich could eat. They were the same kind of places I’d mocked before, knowing full well I would never be ranked high enough to get in. Now that I was Lila, every door was open to me.
Across the street stood the smoldering remains of a small building, the only reminder that this wasn’t paradise. From the way it still smoked, I was sure it was one of the buildings that had been bombed the night before. Orange barriers blocked the walkway beside it, and at least a dozen Shields lined the perimeter, each holding a rifle.
Panic slithered through me. The Shields in the Heights were always on the lookout for someone to arrest or kill, and we avoided them at all costs. But here, everyone walked right on by as if they weren’t even there. Was that what being a V and VI meant? Never having to fear the Shields?
“A testing center,” said Knox, so close his breath tickled my skin. “The other two places were ministries.”
“Which ones?”
“The Ministry of Ranking—my father’s,” he said. “And the Ministry of Wealth and Distribution. Neither of them were destroyed, but the bombs took out a nice chunk.”
“Did it make any difference?” I said, and Knox shook his head.
When we stepped off the walkway, he led me down a side street. A line of people dressed in outrageously tight and colorful clothes wound around the corner, and as we passed, every eye was on us. I spotted a few more Shields in the distance and tensed, but Knox squeezed my hand, and I forced myself to relax. I wasn’t a III anymore. They weren’t going to arrest me just for breathing the wrong way.
The doorman lifted a velvet rope blocking the entrance to the club, and Knox ushered me inside a dark hallway. Deafening noise pulsated around us, and even the floor shook in time to the beat. There was no hope of conversation here.
At last the hallway opened up into a large room packed with people writhing to the music. Colored lights flashed green and blue, and half-dressed girls who couldn’t have been much older than me danced ten feet in the air, suspended by wires or some magic trick I couldn’t see. As Knox led me down a raised walkway that bridged the front of the club with the rear, everyone stared at us.
It was quieter in the back, which was cluttered with tables and couches, but I still had a hard time hearing. Our table was behind another velvet rope, guarded by a man nearly as big as the one at the door. By the time Knox and I sat down, a crowd had gathered, and Knox gestured for them to join us. Within seconds I was squished between Knox and a girl whose eyelids were covered in thick green glitter, and one by one, they leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. When they were done, the urge to wipe it with a napkin overcame me, but too many people were watching.
Talking wasn’t necessary, since everyone seemed determined to do it for me. I was told about how much I’d been missed, how D.C. hadn’t been the same without me, and next time I went to Aspen, I had to take them with me. Waiters came and went, providing the table with an endless supply of drinks, but I didn’t touch any of it. I had to be clearheaded when I snuck out.
It was hard to tell how much time passed with the incessant chatter and pounding music, and after a few songs, my head throbbed along with the beat. I sank lower and lower into my seat until finally Knox touched my arm and leaned in close enough for me to hear him.
“Do you want to dance?”
I would rather have banged my head against the table repeatedly, but when the alternative was listening to a dozen people talk at once, dancing didn’t seem so bad after all.
“Yeah,” I said, and everyone moved to let us out. Relieved to leave them behind, I allowed Knox to wrap his arm around my shoulders, and we both ignored the catcalls coming from the table.
The music grew to an earsplitting level when we reached the dance floor. Maybe it was my imagination, but the crowd seemed to part for us, making roo
m in the center of the chaos.
I knew how to dance, but this wasn’t dancing. This was writhing and grinding and perspiring bodies pressed together, and a trickle of sweat ran down my spine. By the time this was over, the makeup I had painstakingly applied would be ruined.
Knox faced me, and his mouth moved, but for the life of me I couldn’t tell what he was saying. He took my arms and guided them around his shoulders. We were half an inch apart, and even if I’d wanted to move away, the wall of people around us gave me no choice but to stay put.
I locked my hands behind him, and he wrapped his arms loosely around my hips as he started to dance to the rhythm. I clumsily struggled to move with him, making sure that half inch stayed between us, and I was sure I looked like an idiot. Celia had shown me videos of Lila dancing, and at age six, she had been leaps and bounds better than I would ever be.
Knox didn’t seem to mind, though, and he gave me an encouraging smile. Something inside me gave way, and I smiled back, enjoying myself for the first time since this whole mess had started. He was a forgiving partner, and as a new song began, he guided my hips in time to the beat.
He was a good dancer, too. A number of the girls around us kept an eye on him, but he didn’t seem to notice, instead focusing on me. I held his stare awkwardly at first, unsure whether I was allowed to look away or not, but eventually I relaxed and lost myself in the music. The more I watched him, the more I understood why the other girls were practically green with envy. The way he looked at me, the way we moved, the heat between us—in the low lights of the club, it was intoxicating.
He set his forehead against mine, and for a moment I let myself believe that the way Knox looked at me was real. That he wanted me and not just my face. He brushed his fingertips against my jaw, and before I knew it, his lips touched mine, so light that I could barely feel them.
I kissed back.
I had no idea how long it lasted. Seconds, minutes, an hour—time was lost to the thumping bass and slick bodies around us, and when Knox deepened the kiss, I went along willingly, tangling my fingers in his hair. He tasted like alcohol and sweat, and the way my mouth fit against his—
