“Very well, then,” said Daxton slowly. “I suppose you’ve left me with no choice.” He rose and walked around the side of the table. “Creed, if you’d like to do the honors.”
Something about this wasn’t right—there was too much of a bounce in Daxton’s step, and his tone was lighter than someone facing charges of treason would ever sound. I watched him closely, my nails digging into my thighs. The Blackcoats had played their ace. Now he was about to play his.
Daxton stopped an arm’s length away. “Go on, then,” he said, and Creed lifted his hand, his chin jutting out and his mouth tugging into a frown. Apparently he hadn’t expected to do this himself.
Bang.
The instant his fingertips brushed against the back of Daxton’s neck, a shot rang out, and Creed doubled over. I dropped to the ground, pure fear coursing through me and taking over every instinct and desire I had. Lila shrieked, and as Greyson threw himself over her, the other Ministers shouted, half of them ducking underneath the table.
Bang. Bang.
Creed collapsed, and even from a distance, I could see the pool of blood spreading from his head and torso. Several of the other Ministers stumbled out of their seats and toward the door, but a dozen more guards entered the room, blocking their way and drawing their weapons.
“Now, does anyone else object to me retaining my position as Prime Minister?” said Daxton. The Ministers fell silent. He crossed his arms, tapping the barrel of his gun against his biceps. “Good. I’m sorry to say your servicesare no longer needed by your country. I’ve taken the liberty of drawing up an amendment granting the Prime Minister—me—full power over the government, and your last act as Ministers of this great union will be to sign it.”
From the inside of his jacket, he pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper. A few speckles of Creed’s blood had managed to stain the edge, and Daxton sighed. “Ah, well. Can’t have a revolution without shedding a few drops of blood, can you?”
He tipped me an enormous wink, and I clutched one of my crutches. Knox had said nearly the exact same thing to me only a few weeks before.
“A few of you may stay on as my advisers if I so choose,” he continued, addressing the Ministers, “but the rest of you will make your homes down here for the foreseeable future, until it is safe for men of your rank to return to Washington.”
“Down here?” gasped another Minister—Minister Ferras, whom I had only met once before. “But—”
Bang. Bang.
The second Minister collapsed only a few feet from me, and my stomach heaved. It took everything I had not to be sick.
“Does anyone else feel like rejecting my most gracious offer to protect you from the Blackcoats until the end of this war?” said Daxton.
No one else said a word.
Daxton sniffed. “I do hope this isn’t the end of our good relations, Ministers. It’s been a true honor.”
He unrolled the paper and set a heavy pen directly in the middle. One by one, the Ministers approached and, with trembling hands, signed the amendment granting Daxton complete power over the country. There would be no Ministers of the Union to check him now; no one to tell him no, no one to stop him from doing whatever he wanted, consequences be damned.
He waited until every one of the ten remaining Ministers had signed the paper. Then, reaching down, he dipped Creed’s lifeless finger in the pool of blood, pressing it against the document, as well. Once he had repeated the process with Ferras, he squared his shoulders and smiled like a cat assessing its prey. “There we are. I’m so pleased we’re in full agreement.” Rolling it back up, he tucked it into his pocket. “Now come, Greyson, Lila, Kitty—it’s nearly time for lunch. I’m famished.”
The idea of going anywhere with that murderous monster made me lose any appetite I might have otherwise had, but Greyson and Lila stood, and I reluctantly followed. A dozen guards remained in the room—to wrangle the Ministers,I assumed—while the original pair positioned themselves firmly between us and Daxton. To act as human shields, maybe, but I was having a hard enough time keeping up, and Greyson and Lila clung to one another in fear.
“You do enjoy duck, don’t you, Kitty?” Daxton called over his shoulder as he headed toward the elevator. Another pair of guards joined him, this time leading the way. “I couldn’t remember. If you’d like, I can have the staff make you anything you’d like.”
“Duck is fine,” I said shortly, purposely slowing down. Daxton and the guards didn’t seem to notice, but Greyson did. He let go of Lila and met my slow hobble, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Your arms have to be sore. When we get back, I’ll make sure to find you a wheelchair or—”
“A wheelchair would be nice,” I said, even though I had no intention of giving up my crutches. I took a few more painful hops before stopping completely.
Greyson and Lila did, too. “Here, let me help,” he said, taking my crutches. “They might be too short for you.”