Pawn (The Blackcoat Rebellion #1)(29)
Author: Aimee Carter

I shook my head. I could sleep through practically anything after sharing a room with nineteen other girls my entire life.

Celia soon joined us, but she had no more of an idea of what was going on than we did. The guards led us down to the basement and through a maze of hallways I mapped out mentally. The one who had spoken, a man dressed in a black-and-silver uniform, stopped in front of a metal door and punched in a long series of symbols.

The screen turned green and the lock clicked, and he pushed it open. So we were being arrested after all.

The door was at least two feet thick, and on the other side was a screen to unlock it from the inside. Without the password, however, it would be impossible to escape.

It had no windows, and unlike the rooms I’d seen earlier, it was practically bare in comparison. Only a few couches and chairs were scattered throughout, with a kitchenette and what looked like a small bathroom in opposite corners, and cabinets that went from floor to ceiling lined the walls. I subtly searched for a vent, but I didn’t spot anything big enough to be useful.

“The safe room,” said Knox in a low voice as we were ushered inside. “This place could withstand a nuclear attack. Wouldn’t recommend trying to break in. Or out, for that matter. Three tries and you’d alert half the city.”

I had no idea what a nuclear attack was, but I didn’t doubt him. The room was impenetrable. I sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, and Knox and Celia took a seat nearby. As we waited, I closed my eyes and counted the seconds in an attempt to calm myself down, but it didn’t stop my pulse from racing.

Finally Daxton joined us. Instead of telling us anything, he sat down next to me, so close I could smell his soap. Greyson, Daxton’s son, trailed behind him, his shoulders slumped and a book tucked underneath his arm. He was tall and blond and reminded me of Benjy, but I pushed that thought aside. It hurt too much to think about him right now.

Greyson ignored the rest of us and sat as far away from the group as he could. Even though he was eighteen, he looked younger with his furrowed brow and guarded eyes. I thought I spotted him staring at me, but when I looked at him, he was focused on his book.

The last to join us was Augusta, wearing a silk dressing gown and a scowl. Daxton stood when his mother entered, and she gestured for him to sit back down.

“There has been an attack,” she said, her voice steady.

“In what looks to be a coordinated effort, seventeen government buildings have been bombed in various cities across the country, including three in the District of Columbia. Two of our ministries were targeted directly.

So far we have no numbers on casualties, but because of the late hour, they are not expected to be more than a hundred or so.”

I clasped my hands together, stunned. Across from me, Celia paled. “Has anyone taken credit?” she said.

Augusta pursed her lips. “The Blackcoats.”

Beside me, Daxton scoffed. “Impossible. My advisers insist they don’t have the manpower or the resources.”

“Obviously they do,” snapped Celia. Augusta gave her a look I didn’t understand, but Celia kept her glare on Daxton.

“How?” he said. “None of the terrorists we’ve dealt with before had the capability or the means to pull off something like this. It takes resources that the lower ranks don’t have.”

“Clearly you must have pissed off the wrong people this time,” she said.

“Enough.” Augusta sat beside Greyson and smoothed the wrinkles of her dressing gown. Instead of moving away from her, like I expected, Greyson leaned against her, and she rubbed his back. “They are demanding you step aside as prime minister and allow real elections.

Abolish the rank system. Allow the elderly and helpless to remain in society. The same absurdities as last time.”

I chanced a look at Celia, but her expression was as blank as ever. Those were the things that Lila had talked about in her speeches.

“I’ll have the Shields on it in the morning,” said Daxton. “It should be easy enough to track them down and squash all of this nonsense.”

Greyson sighed. “So why do we have to stay in the safe room? It’s not like they can get past the guards.”

“Caution, my dear,” said Augusta. “It would do us no good to purposely ignore the threat. Besides, if something happened to you, we would have no heir.”

“You’d have Lila,” he said. Apparently no one had bothered to tell him after all.

I watched him openly now, able to see in person similarities to the other Harts that weren’t evident in pictures or film. The way the corners of his mouth turned downward when he wasn’t talking. The way his forehead furrowed to make him look much more serious than his voice let on. He was definitely his father’s son, but there was a glint in his eyes that Daxton didn’t have, an intelligence that seemed to take in everything. Including the fact that I was staring.

I looked down at my hands, but it was too late. He’d already noticed.

“Perhaps,” said Augusta with a sniff. “However, you are my only remaining grandson, and I will not compromise your safety so you can waste the night tinkering with your toys.”

“They’re not toys,” he said, sitting up straighter now and shifting away from her. “They’re inventions, and they work. If you’d just come to my workshop for a few minutes and look—”

She raised her hand, and even though his anger was palpable, he fell silent, as if he’d expected her to cut him off. A father like Daxton and a grandmother like Augusta. At least I’d had Nina.

“I’d like to see your new inventions sometime, if you’ll let me,” said Celia warmly. “You must have come up with some interesting things in the past few weeks.”

“It’s been a while for me,” said Knox. “Lila, too.”

The way Knox looked at me made it clear I was expected to chime in. “Right,” I said, clearing my throat.

“I’d like to see them, too.” I couldn’t imagine what Greyson could have invented that didn’t already exist, but that was why he was the one making things and I wasn’t.

Greyson bit his lip. “Yeah, all right. If they ever let us out of here.”

“Patience,” said Augusta. “It will do you a world of good.”

“Maybe so, but I still say we don’t get out of here until morning.”

Unfortunately Greyson was right. I managed a few restless hours of dozing, curled up in an uncomfortable position with Daxton snoring next to me, but as the night wore on, he inched closer and closer. When he threw his arm across my chest and settled his head on my shoulder, I gave up hope of getting any sleep.