Pawn (The Blackcoat Rebellion #1)(33)
Author: Aimee Carter

“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 room 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— Not my mouth. Not my lips.

I wasn’t the girl he pretended he was kissing. And he wasn’t Benjy.

My eyes flew open. How much time had we been dancing? I broke away from Knox and glanced at his watch, too cowardly to look him in the eye.

Dammit. It was nearly midnight already.

Before I could say anything, someone pushed me into Knox, and I landed squarely against his chest. I babbled apologies that were lost in the roar of the music, and he glowered at the person behind me.

The moment was gone. Suddenly all I could feel was the overwhelming heat, and I wiped my forehead with my sleeve. I needed to get out of here.

I stood on my tiptoes and yelled into Knox’s ear, “Bathroom?”

He took my arm and led me through the crowd, which once again parted to let us through. The VIP bathrooms were behind a heavy curtain in the back of the club, and on the other side, I squinted against the blinding hallway lights. We were alone now, and I was all too aware I could still taste Knox.

“Is this it?” I said, pointing to the nearest door. He nodded.

“Kitty—”

“Don’t,” I said. “It’s fine. People expect that from us.

I get it. Right now I really need to go.”

He sighed and gestured at another door. “Right. I’ll be in here. Wait for me when you’re done.”