“I could still kill her.” Daxton stared at me, his dark eyes running up and down my body. I glared back. “No one would ever have to know.”
“We would,” said Lila. “And the next time you put me on air, I would tell the entire country.”
“And see Greyson die in front of you? My dear, don’t be silly.” Daxton smiled and tore his stare from me, and I felt as if a fist had loosened around my insides. That was how he was doing it, then. That’s how he had bought Lila’s cooperation. And I didn’t doubt for a second that he was mad enough to really kill Greyson just to prove a point to Lila.
“We have the file,” I blurted, hoping I wasn’t wrong. “The Blackcoats will trade us for it. Lila, Greyson, me—if you release us, you’ll never have to worry about the contents being made public.”
Daxton considered me for a long moment, his gaze once again locking on mine. A single look from him was enough to make my skin crawl; his leering stare made me feel like I needed to shower for the rest of my life, however longorshort it may be.
“Well, you certainly have the upper hand, don’t you?” He grinned, but there was nothing good or humorous in it. “Let them release the file. Their campaign has already failed. My team can easily disprove their lies and slander,and the only public outcry they’ll gain is from malcontents already on the fringes of society. Everyone else is rather happy with their places in all this, and I daresay they value a full belly over your particular brand of righteousness.”
I gaped at him, dumbfounded. He had been willing to do anything—anything to stop that file from becoming public knowledge only a few weeks ago. Something must have changed. Something big.
“I’ll leave you three to it, then,” he said. “Lunch should be served shortly. Do yourself a favor and eat, Kitty. You look far too thin.”
He waltzed out the door, leaving Lila, Greyson, and me to stare at one another. The Blackcoats’ ace in the hole—the thing Knox and I had been so willing to die to protect—couldn’t possibly be worthless.
“He’s bluffing,” I said. “There’s something else going on.”
“I don’t think there is,” said Greyson quietly, and he perched on the bed beside me. “He’s three steps ahead of us at all times. I don’t know how, but no matter what we try, he’s always there.”
“We’ll figure something out,” I said, swallowing hard. My mouth was dry, and all the water in the world couldn’t help it. “Do you know—do you know if they captured Knox, too?”
Lila shook her head and gestured toward the muted television playing in the background. A reel of footage from inside Somerset played as Shields shot down Blackcoats, and for a brief second, I thought I saw my blond hair hanginglimply over one soldier’s shoulder. “It’s just you. Mom escaped, too. There’s a list of dead they’ve been reading on the news—Blackcoats. More than twenty of them. They’re trying to shame the families into compliance in case anyof them are sympathetic, too.”
“Shame doesn’t cause sympathy. They’re just fanning the flames and turning more people against them.” So would the contents of the file. “Whatever Daxton says, don’t believe him. He’s losing support. The media—they’re just spouting the lies he wants you to hear. They’re unreliable.”
“We know,” said Greyson. “The problem is, most of the country doesn’t.”
“They’ll figure it out,” I said. “The more the Blackcoats reveal, the more they’ll have to listen.”
“The ones who want to hear it, anyway,” muttered Lila.
“People need hope,” I said. “More than you think.”
“Don’t lecture me on hope. I’m the one who gave up years of my life to deliver speeches—”
“Lila.” Greyson’s sharp voice cut through hers, and she stopped. Instead of reaming her out, however, he nodded to the television, where a burst of static had interrupted the anchor. “Turn it up.”
She turned on the volume just in time for Knox’s face to appear. Someone had stitched up the cut underneath his eye, and he looked exhausted, but judging by the background, he had made it back to his office in Elsewhere. He was safe.
“As I’m sure you’ve heard by now,” he began, “yesterday morning, Celia Hart, one of the few living members left of the Hart family, reclaimed her familial home at Somerset from the impostor, Victor Mercer.”
“He’s wooden,” said Lila immediately. “He always has been. Can’t give a speech to save his life.”