Captive

by Aimee Carter

  “You better be it,” I muttered as I dragged the chair over to the fourth and final drawer. Close up, I could see that this one was different. Over the spot where the lock had been for the other drawers, there was a shiny black square exactly big enough for a fingerprint.

  I mentally kicked myself for not noticing earlier, and without hesitation, I passed the silver disk over the drawer. A light beside the square turned green, and the lock clicked.

  Butterflies fluttered in the pit of my stomach, and I pulled the drawer open. It was lighter than the others, and I immediately saw why. Only one thing lay inside: a single black folder.

  I opened it. Inside was a small strip of paper no bigger than a name tag, with a series of symbols I couldn’t make sense of. This had to be it. I carefully folded the paper, and, realizing too late that I had no pockets, I slipped it snugly under the waistband of my underwear instead. Good enough.

  Returning the black folder to the drawer, I closed it and climbed down. I moved the chair back into place, but just as I took my hands off it, something clicked.

  Light flooded the room, causing a stabbing pain in my eyes, and instinctively I ducked underneath the desk. But it was too late. Unless the dark figure in the doorway was blind, he had already seen me.

  “Lila?” said a familiar voice, and I exhaled. Knox.

  “What are you—” I began to straighten, but as soon as he came into view, I froze.

  Knox stood in the doorway, holding a glass of amber liquid, and he wasn’t alone.

  Standing beside him was Mercer.

  XIV

  TORTURE

  “What are you doing here?” said Mercer, his voice harsh and his words slurred. The glass of alcohol in his hand clearly wasn’t his first.

  “I—” I glanced at Knox, silently begging him to say something, but his expression remained stony. “I got lost—”

  “You got lost?” Mercer scoffed and advanced on me, liquid sloshing over the edge of his glass and onto the gleaming wooden floor. “What were you looking for, girl?”

  Any trace of the friendly man who had insisted I stay with him and his wife was gone. Instead his eyes were bloodshot and his mouth curled into a snarl, and he grabbed my shoulder.

  “You don’t want to talk? Fine. I enjoy a challenge.”

  With his nails digging into my skin, he dragged me past Knox and into the foyer. At first I thought he was going to throw me out the front door and into the frozen night, but instead he pushed me deeper into the manor.

  “Knox!” I cried. “Knox, please—”

  “Jonathan,” said Knox, his voice tinged with annoyance, like this was nothing more than a moderate inconvenience to him. “She said she was lost. Nothing in your office is disturbed—”

  “I brought her here as a favor to you,” said Mercer. “You swore you’d keep an eye on her, and here we are. Are you in on this, too, Creed?”

  Knox sighed and set his glass aside. “I was down here with you.”

  “Distracting me, making sure I didn’t come in here and find her.”

  “Convenient, considering you’re the one who asked me to have a drink in the first place.”

  Mercer’s grip on my shoulder tightened, and my knees buckled as pain shot through me. “Think it’s time you took your leave. I’ll have a driver escort you to the perimeter as soon as I’m through with this one.”

  “Don’t bother. I know the way.” Knox glanced at me, and for a moment I thought I saw a flash of pity in his eyes. Terrific. “I hope you’re right about this, Mercer, because you will pay dearly for stealing my property for your own enjoyment.”

  His property? I sputtered, but before I could form intelligible words, Mercer interrupted. “You’ll have your pick next time you come. This one’s defective anyway.”

  Knox said nothing to counter him. Instead he turned and headed up the grand staircase, not bothering to spare me one last look.

  And then I was really alone.

  “Need two in the workshop,” muttered Mercer into a communication device, and he opened a door I hadn’t noticed before. A narrow staircase descended into darkness, and he shoved me inside. I stumbled down the steps, losing my balance halfway there and pitching forward the rest of the way.

  I hit the concrete floor with a crack, and my shoulder exploded in pain. I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could, but Mercer was already there, grabbing my uninjured arm and yanking me forward.

  “I invite you into my home, feed you my food, let you sleep in a warm bed, and this is how you repay me?” He flipped a switch, and yellow light filled the room, revealing walls lined with rack after rack of gleaming metal objects. Some I could name—knives, saws, screwdrivers—but others looked like they were relics from some ancient time.

  That wasn’t the worst part, though. Three metal tables large enough to hold a full-grown adult stood evenly spaced from the center of the room, where the stained concrete floor slanted toward a drain. I’d seen enough dried blood to know it when I saw it, and panic joined the pain pulsing through me.

  We stood in a literal torture chamber.

  “The workshop,” said Mercer proudly. He dragged me toward the nearest table, which gleamed in the low light. “Last chance, little girl. Tell me the truth, or you’ll turn this into a night to remember for both of us.”

  Footsteps thudded down the stairs, and my insides clenched. “I told you, I was looking for the kitchen to get something to eat, and in the darkness, I got mixed up. I didn’t realize where I was until I ran into your chair. I was on my way out when you found me.”

  “If you could see well enough to reach the foyer without tripping, you could see well enough to know it was my office.” Two guards spilled into the room, and Mercer barked, “Tie her to the table.”

  “No—don’t—I’m telling the truth,” I said, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “It was an accident.”

  “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” A sickening smile spread across Mercer’s face, and in that moment he reminded me so much of Daxton that, in my panic, I saw him standing there in Mercer’s place.

  “Please—please,” I begged as the guards hoisted me onto the table, wrenching my shoulder so badly that white-hot agony burned through me. I screamed, but they ignored me, wrapping thick leather straps around my hands and ankles. Another burst of pain shot down my spine as they tightened the straps, rendering me immobile.

  “The more you struggle, the more it’s going to hurt,” said Mercer. He stood in front of a rack filled with knives, running his hands lovingly over each handle. Without a word, the two guards disappeared, leaving us alone in that torture chamber together.

  As the reality of the situation set in, my veins pumped full of adrenaline, and I began to tremble. “You don’t have to do this,” I said. “I’ll cooperate. I’ll never come here again. I’ll be the best citizen you’ve ever had—please. I’ll do anything.”

  Choosing a scalpel and a pair of tongs from his collection, he then turned to face me. “What I want you to do right now is tell me which you value more—your teeth or your toes?”

  “Jonathan,” said a voice from the staircase. Hannah. “You need to see this.”

  Mercer narrowed his eyes. “I’m busy.”

  “Even if she’s lying, there’s a greater chance of her passing out than telling you,” said Hannah. She appeared in my line of sight, and something glinted in her hand.

  The gold frame.

  Frantically I tried to remember if I’d switched the picture back to the one of Lila and Greyson. I must have—I wouldn’t have left out a picture of me and Benjy for anyone to see.

  Desperate hope pulsed through me as Hannah held up the frame for Mercer, and as soon as I caught sight of the picture, I had to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out.

  Benj
y. She was showing him the picture of me and Benjy, with no idea they were looking at my real face, too.

  “Knox said there’s a boy in Section J—Benjamin Doe,” she said. “His former assistant. They had a relationship behind his back. You’d be better off using him to get her to talk.”

  “No—no!” I shouted, fighting the restraints. Agony ripped through me, but I didn’t care. “He has nothing to do with this!”

  Mercer’s sickening grin returned, and he took the picture from Hannah. “Fascinating. Truly fascinating. I’ll alert the guards. Watch her, darling. She’ll say anything to get out of here.”

  “They all will,” said Hannah, and Mercer took the frame and headed up the stairs, leaving the pair of us alone.

  “Why did you show him that?” My voice broke, and hot tears stung my eyes. “Benjy had nothing to do with any of this.”

  Hannah didn’t answer. Instead she moved toward me, and before I could ask what she was doing, she began to undo the straps.

  “Listen to me—we don’t have much time,” she said. “There’s an emergency tunnel underneath the cellar. It’s several miles long, but it’ll lead you to the edge of Elsewhere. Knox is arranging for someone to meet you there.”

  I stared at her. “What?”

  “You need to go.” She freed my good arm and started on my ankles. “He’ll be back any minute.”

  I undid the buckle holding my second arm hostage, wincing as it pulled my shoulder the wrong way. “I’m not leaving. He’s going after Benjy—”

  “I’ll make sure nothing happens to him.” She pulled my left leg free. “Jonathan won’t hurt him anyway, not until you’ve been found. He means something to you, and Jonathan won’t risk losing that leverage.”

  I shook my head and sat up. “He’s going to kill him—”

  “He’s going to kill you if you stay here.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do.” Her deft fingers undid the final strap, and I swung my legs off the side of the table. “I don’t know what you were doing in his office, and I don’t care. Right now, all I want is for you to get somewhere safe so he can’t kill you.”

  “Why do you even care?” My voice broke, and I cradled my bad arm. “Yesterday, you didn’t want me anywhere near you or your husband.”

  “And I still don’t, but for an entirely different reason now.” She pulled the silk belt of her dressing gown through the loops and began fastening it around my shoulder.

  “What are you talking about?” I said, wincing as she eased my arm into the makeshift sling. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what’s going on.”

  Her expression grew pinched, and she glanced at the stairwell. “Fine. That girl in the picture, the one with your friend—that’s you, isn’t it?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded. No point in lying to her. She had already felt the III on the back of my neck. “A year ago. Before I was Masked.”

  Hannah took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “So he was telling the truth.”

  “Knox?” I said. “Hard to say for sure. What are you talking about?”

  She moved into a corner of the workshop and pushed aside a creaky old cabinet. The wood screeched against the concrete floor, and I winced. “That girl in the picture—her name’s Kitty Doe. You’re Kitty Doe.”

  I blinked. “How did you—”

  “Daxton told me,” she said, and I grew still. “No, not that Daxton. The real Daxton.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Wait, you know—”

  “Daxton used to come here all the time,” she said. “I met him when I was twenty, and we formed a—bond.”

  The idea of Daxton—real or fake—forming the kind of bond she was implying made me gag. “Sorry he forced you to do—whatever it is he made you do.”

  “He didn’t make me do anything.” Her voice grew hard and defensive, and she shoved the cabinet a few more inches before crouching down in the corner. I hopped off the table to join her. “I loved him. He loved me. If circumstances had been different—if he hadn’t been married already—if I hadn’t been a prisoner—”

  “He would have carried you off to his castle in the sky, and you would have lived happily ever after,” I said. “I get it.”

  She rooted around in the corner searching for something I couldn’t see. “He was a good man. His mother was the real problem, you know. He wanted to start imposing sentences that fit the crime. Releasing Extras and giving them a chance. But she insisted he couldn’t do it, not if he wanted to remain in power—”

  “I know what a terrible person she was,” I said. “I’m the one who killed her.”

  She paused long enough to twist around and eye me. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Thought you said we didn’t have a lot of time.”

  “We don’t.” She yanked on something, and suddenly a square piece of wall swung out, revealing some kind of trapdoor. It was large enough for a man to crawl through, and darkness permeated the space beyond it. “Long story short, we had a baby. And even though she was born here, Daxton made a deal with his mother and found her a place to grow up out in the world.”

  My mouth went dry, and a block of ice formed in my stomach. “No. Whatever it is you’re trying to say—”

  She pushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes and stepped back from the opening. “He sent me updates—pictures, reports, that kind of thing. Took care of me even after she was gone. Introduced me to the Mercers, and they took a liking to me.” She shook her head. “Anyway. I wasn’t supposed to know Victor replaced him. No one was. But I’m not stupid—and when Daxton came to visit Elsewhere a month after Victor died, it was obvious. He wasn’t my Daxton, and I recognized the way he was looking at me. And when he threatened to hurt you, I knew it wasn’t him.”

  The cellar spun around me. I had to lean against the old cabinet to keep my balance, and a splinter slid into my palm. “You’re not my mother. Daxton—Daxton isn’t my father. I’m not your kid.”

  “You’re not,” she agreed. “But that girl in the picture, Kitty—she is.”

  A knot formed in my throat, making it impossible for me to speak. I’d never known my parents—I’d assumed I was an Extra like the others in my group home, because that’s what we were. I was nobody. Nothing until I earned my rank and proved I was worth something to the rest of them.

  But I had the Hart eyes. I had Hannah’s hair. And even though the thought of being biologically connected to Daxton Hart made me sick to my stomach, Hannah had no reason to lie. She had no reason to risk her own life helping me, either, unless I meant something to her.

  Unless I was her daughter.

  “You—you’re sure?” I said in a choked voice. Hannah fished a gold chain out from under her nightgown, and at the end dangled a tiny locket. She pushed a button, and it flipped open, revealing two pictures: one of a baby with bright blue eyes, and one I recognized as me on my fifteenth birthday.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know until now.” Her eyes grew glassy, and she tucked the locket back underneath her nightgown. “When Knox showed me that picture, I thought it was a prank. But it’s really you, isn’t it?”

  I nodded wordlessly, and the room tilted around me, nearly taking me with it. I had a mother. I had family.

  Greyson was really my brother. Lila was my cousin.

  I really was a Hart.

  And Knox had known.

  “I need—I need—” I gestured helplessly at the tunnel. Hannah stepped aside.

  “Of course.” She hesitated and briefly wrapped her arms around me. She was warm, and for a split second, I let myself imagine what it would have been like to grow up with a mother. “There’s a flashlight attached to the wall a few feet inside. Run. I’ll distract Mercer for as lo
ng as I can.”

  “Thank you. For everything,” I said.

  Neither of us managed anything more. I slipped inside and waited on the rough concrete while she sealed the tunnel again, watching as the last sliver of light took her from me.

  Once I was surrounded by darkness, I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. This changed nothing. I still had to get out of there before Mercer figured out what she had done, and if he took it out on her—

  No. Hannah was capable of taking care of herself. If I showed my face to protect her, it would only make things worse for both of us. She was smart, and she knew Mercer better than I ever would. She would figure something out.

  I groped around until I found the flashlight, and light flooded a long tunnel that curved out of sight. At first it was concrete, but after only ten minutes of walking, it shifted to dirt. I gulped in the stale air. I was fine. There had to be an end to the tunnel, and when I found it, I would join Knox and the Blackcoats and make damn sure they got to Mercer before Mercer could hurt Benjy and Hannah—or worse.

  Everything would be fine.

  I stopped suddenly. It wouldn’t be, not without the codes. If the Blackcoats couldn’t get into the armory, they didn’t stand a chance. And I was the only one who knew where they were.

  I touched the waistband of my underwear, relieved when I felt the paper crinkle against my skin. I still had it. And if I wanted the Blackcoats to have any chance at all, I needed to get it to them.

  But Hannah had said the tunnel ran for miles. There was a chance no one would be there when I got there, or even if they were, they might not be able to communicate with the people inside Elsewhere, where the armory was hidden.

  I silently cursed. My life or the lives of millions.

  Once again, Knox was right.

  I turned around and darted back down the tunnel, the beam of light from the flashlight swinging in time with my strides. When I reached the concrete, I flipped the light off in case Mercer had sent a guard down to see if this was where I’d gone, but as I crept back to the cellar, it was as dark as ever.