Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(18)

I whirled around, my heart in my throat. Seated behind a desk in a room I didn’t recognize was Daxton Hart. “What—?”

Knox leaped to his feet and hushed me, his eyes glued to the screen.

“A knife to the heart and a chain around the neck. Not terribly symbolic, dear sister, but I suppose it gets the job done.” Daxton leered at the camera, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. Like this was a game to him, andhe’d just outsmarted us. “Only problem is, it wasn’t me.”

At this, he seemed to sober up. He folded his hands and furrowed his brow in his best impression of someone deeply troubled, but I knew him well enough to see the grin desperate to emerge.

“You and your band of terrorists didn’t kill me, Celia. You killed a father of two who bravely volunteered to serve as my double at Somerset while I took refuge in a safe place far from your guns and threats.” He stared into the camera, and the glint in his eyes never faded. “My son, Greyson, and my dear niece, Lila, are both safe with me, and they will remain so for the duration of this fight. And I promise you, citizens of the United States, I will stop at nothing to see these so-called Blackcoats brought to justice. The entire weight of the United States Army is coming for you, and the people will not protect a bunch of murderous traitors. And I promise you, sister, by the end of this—” He leaned in close enough for me to see a popped vein in his eye. “You will be the one in chains.”

The broadcast cut out, and the stunned reporters and anchors all scrambled for something to say. Rather than listen, however, Knox turned the screens off, and silence permeated the room for several long seconds before he let out a victorious holler.

“That idiot. That egomaniacal fool.” Knox whooped and hit the desk so hard that a paperweight toppled to the floor. “He’d won the war. He had it wrapped in a bow and delivered straight to his doorstep. All he had to do was keep quiet and let his generals do his dirty work, and he would have had us.”

“And now he doesn’t?” I said, confused. Knox turned to me, grinning for the first time since—I couldn’t remember ever seeing him grin like that, actually.

“Because he couldn’t stand giving Celia even the impression of a victory.” Knox punched his fist into the air. “Now the whole country knows doubles of Daxton exist. First they’ll question whether he’s really who he claims to be—if he isn’t a double himself, and the real Daxton’s dangling by his neck on that door.”

“He’s the real Daxton. Or Victor, I guess,” I said quietly. No one could fake that sadistic stare.

“I know,” said Knox. “But they don’t. They’ll question it, and before long, that conversation will lead to them wondering if you were telling the truth after all. He just blew his entire defense. The sympathy, the martyrdom, his legacy—all because of his stupid pride and need to make sure everyone knows he’s still in control.” He shook his head, still beaming. “We have a chance, Kitty. We actually have a chance.”

“We have more than a chance,” I said firmly. “We’re going to win this.”

Knox and I walked into the noisy living room side by side, and instantly everyone fell silent. Several members of the Blackcoats paced, their expressions twisted with anger, while others slumped over with disappointment. No one, not even Benjy, looked happy.

“Why are you smiling?” demanded Strand as we headed to the front of the room. Knox stopped underneath the portrait of Daxton, and I stood beside him, for once not feeling like a burden or a nuisance. I hadn’t done anything, but even if I had, Knox was too happy to care.

“Because we just went from losing this war to having a real chance at winning it,” said Knox. As he launched into an explanation, Benjy joined me, his brow furrowed.

“Where have you been?” he whispered, taking my hand in his.

“I was watching the news with Knox,” I whispered in return.

“All night?”

I nodded and gave him a strange look. “What else would I be doing with him?”

Benjy opened his mouth to say something, but wisely shut it. His grip on my hand tightened, however, and he didn’t let go.

“Though Celia’s plan backfired, it’s also offered us an unparalleled opportunity to gain the country’s support,” said Knox to the other Blackcoats. “We must seize this chance and prove our allegations are true.”

“How? By tying Daxton down and forcing him to admit it?” said Strand. But before Knox could answer, I knew exactly what he was going to say.

“The file.”

Everyone in the room looked at me. I cleared my throat. It wasn’t the first time I’d blurted out something ridiculous, but this time, I was absolutely sure I was right.

“There’s a file full of evidence that Daxton is really Victor Mercer,” I said. “I stole it a few weeks ago. It’s part of the reason Daxton had me arrested and thrown into Elsewhere. I hid it,” I added. “In Somerset.”

“We’ll send word to the D.C. team at once,” said Strand. “We can have it in our possession in minutes and out to the public by noon.”

Knox shook his head. “I’m not trusting anyone else with something this important. There could be spies among us, and this folder is the only chance we have to prove Daxton is Victor Mercer.”