Pawn (The Blackcoat Rebellion #1)(15)
Author: Aimee Carter

“Were any bad enough that the prime minister decided she couldn’t die properly like the rest of us?”

Knox smiled grimly. “Apparently.”

At a loss for what to say, I stared at him instead. He stared back. “You’re Knox,” I said.

“And you’re not Lila.” He made himself comfortable on the edge of the mattress. “Celia said your name’s Kitty. True?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep an edge in my voice.

It still sounded funny to me—had they somehow made me sound like Lila, too? They must have, else I didn’t see how they expected me to pull this off. “What do you want?”

Instead of answering, he stuck out his hand for me to shake. I eyed him as I took it. There was something about him I didn’t trust. It wasn’t every day some strange girl showed up with the face of his fiancée, and he was being too nice, too— casual with this.

“You have a strong grip,” he said. “You’ll need to fix that before you go out in public. Lila was always very delicate.”

“I’ll work on it.” I hesitated. Knox had obviously been close to Lila, and he could be my ticket to pulling off this charade. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him. “Is that why you’re here? To criticize my grip?”

“Partially,” he said drily. “Celia and I have agreed to work with you to make sure you transition to Lila’s life as seamlessly as possible, so you’ll be seeing plenty of both of us. In the meantime, I thought I’d introduce myself, since we’re going to be married in a few months and all.”

My stomach cramped. Daxton had mentioned I still had to marry him, but part of me had hoped that Knox wouldn’t go along with it now that he wouldn’t be marrying Lila. “I didn’t—” My voice broke, and I cleared my throat. “The prime minister said it was only temporary—”

“Not that temporary,” he said. “The wedding’s set for

New Year’s Eve. Lila didn’t do much to help with planning, so you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”

“And what if I don’t want to marry you?” I said. “Do I get a say in this?”

The corners of his mouth tugged upward into a darkly amused smile. “Considering Lila didn’t want to marry me either, I’d say no.”

Terrific. On top of everything else, now I had to worry about explaining this to Benjy. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. “Me.”

“One I actually like.”

“You’ll learn to like me eventually,” said Knox. “Most people do.”

I bit back a retort and ran my tongue over my teeth.

They were different, too—straighter, and my front teeth were smaller now. I touched my new face again, mapping out the new contours, and instinctively I brushed my fingertips against the back of my neck to reassure myself of my new mark. Except— My blood ran cold. Three ridges to indicate a III, not the VII that should have been there. I pulled my hair away from my neck and turned so Knox could see it.

“What’s there?” I said urgently. “What rank?”

“A VII,” he said, the confusion in his voice clear. When I turned back around, I must’ve looked as panicked as I felt, because he reached forward without asking. I leaned away, clutching the sheets. He paused. “I’m not going to hurt you. May I?”

Wordlessly I nodded, and he ran his fingers against my mark.

“You were a III?” he said. “Christ, that’s rotten.”

He could tell. The ink said I was a VII, just like Daxton had promised, but the ridges underneath my skin were still there. And if Knox could tell, anyone could.

My heart hammered. “They said I’d be a VII, not—”

“Insurance,” said Knox. “They need a way to control you and prove you’re not Lila if they have to. Don’t worry about it, though. It won’t come to that, and no one in their right mind will check your rank.”

I forced myself to breathe steadily. It would be a problem after I ran, but until then, Knox was right. There was no reason for anyone to think I wasn’t Lila, nothing to connect her to an Extra III who was supposed to be in Denver. No one but Tabs, and she was already dead.

No, Tabs wasn’t the only person who knew where I’d been. Daxton had no way of knowing about Benjy, though. He couldn’t.

But what if he did?

I pushed the blanket away and swung my legs around to the side of the bed, ignoring the sharp pain as my feet touched the floor. Something felt off, but whatever else they’d done to me didn’t matter. I had to find a way to warn Benjy.

I pushed myself off the bed and stood. No, not stood— I swayed, seconds away from falling, and my legs shook under the stress of bearing my weight. Shit.

“Whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” Knox reached out to steady me, and when I tried to take a step, my foot caught on the lush carpet. Yes, something was definitely wrong.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I clumsily fell back onto the bed. When I stuck my legs out to see what was wrong with them, my mouth dropped open. They were several inches longer. And thinner.

It wasn’t just my face and my hands and my hip. I was taller, too.

Knox sat down beside me. “They did a good job on you,” he said, glancing at my legs. “If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“Good for them,” I said faintly. “I need some air.”

“Excellent idea. I could use some myself.”

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to stand on my unsteady legs. This time I knew what to expect.

“Let me,” said Knox, offering me his arm. I pushed it away and shuffled across the carpet. I needed to do this on my own.

By the time I finally reached the door, I was panting, my muscles burned, and a bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. Knox had left it open, and I poked my head around the corner, only to see a long white hallway that looked about a mile long. My heart sank.

“Stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” Knox reappeared beside me with a wheelchair. “You really should learn when to ask for help. There’s no shame in it, you know.”

“I’m not letting you push me around in that thing,”

I said flatly.

“You have two choices—stay in this tiny room all day and mope, or go for a ride.” He paused. “Well, you could also try to walk farther than you already have, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Doubt the doctors would, either.”