Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(23)

“Exactly.”

Despite the pain in his eyes as we spoke about his brother, there was also a warmth that emanated from him, unlike anything I’d ever seen from him before. He told me about some of his favorite memories with his brother who barely spoke—only to him, he admitted, and even then, those instances were rare—and as he went on, answering my steady stream of questions openly, I realized what was different.

I’d never seen him talk about someone he loved before.

This was the Knox who was my friend. The one I trusted, the one I believed in. And there, in the middle of the sky, with nothing but air between us and the rest of the world, I was grateful to have a glimpse of him again.

Eventually our conversation died down, but I sat across from Knox for the rest of the flight, staying away from the others. Occasionally one of us would say something, spurring a short exchange, but we always reverted back to companionable silence. It was nice, in a way. But it didn’t do much to quell the anxiety forming in the pit of my stomach over what we were about to do.

As we began our descent outside D.C., I couldn’t help but wonder how many of us would make it back alive. Because if there was one thing I’d learned working with Knox, it was that nothing ever went completely according to plan.

“Soldiers,” said Knox as soon as we’d landed in the middle of a snowy field. “Your job is simple. Protect the plane.”

Several of them gaped at him. “Excuse me?” said one man with a blond goatee.

“You heard me. Protect the plane,” said Knox. “It’s our ticket back to Elsewhere. If the government spots it, we’re on our own, and believe me, it’s a very long walk back to safety.”

He led me down the ramp and across the snowy field, toward a waiting black car. I glanced over my shoulder to see the soldiers circling the plane with their weapons at the ready, as if there were battalions of government agents waiting for us to land in this very spot. At least they were taking their mission seriously.

“They thought they were going to come with us into the city,” I said as I climbed in on the passenger side. Knox sat in the driver’s seat and turned the key hanging in the ignition.

“Strand and Benjy and the entire lot of them would never have let us come if they knew it was only the two of us,” said Knox as the engine purred to life. “We’re both too important to go anywhere without a security detail tailing us.”

“But that’s exactly what we’re doing.” I wasn’t afraid, not exactly, but the more guns we had, the better our chances were. If someone took Knox out, I would have no idea what to do or where to go. And if someone took me out—Knox didn’t know where to find the file. Our mission would be a failure.

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them, and the only way to get this done quickly and efficiently is if it’s essential personnel only,” said Knox.

“Us,” I said, and he nodded.

“Us.”

I examined the screen on the dashboard. The radio was muted, but red arrows pointed along the road, no doubt heading straight for Somerset. “Did this car appear out of nowhere?”

“I made a call before we left. Celia restored communications after she took over Somerset, and Sampson dropped it off for us. No one knows we’re coming but him.” Knox pressed the accelerator, and we took off down the dirt road. “Where did you hide the file, Kitty? Are you going to have to go into the vents to get it?”

I nodded. “It won’t take me long.”

“Are you going to tell me where it is, or am I going to be surprised?”

I shifted in my seat to face him. “Remember when you pretended to kill Benjy in front of me and let me believe he was dead for days?”

Knox’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Surprise, then. Never been a fan.”

“Like I said back in the manor, even if you knew where it was, you probably wouldn’t be able to get to it anyway.”

“Fair enough,” he said with a sigh, and I knew the hardened, exasperated Knox had returned, burying the vulnerability so deep inside him I doubted he even remembered it existed.

I settled back and gazed out the window as we drove toward D.C. We weren’t far—an hour at the most—and part of me was eager to see my home again. I hadn’t grown up in Somerset or anywhere near it; I’d grown up in the Heights, the poorest part of D.C. But the city was still my home.

“Is that your go-to plan?” I said after a minute. “Faking a death?”

He glanced over at me, his gaze lingering for longer than it should have, considering how fast he was driving. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean—that’s what you did for Lila. You helped her fake her death. You faked Benjy’s death. I’m never going to be able to fully believe you’re dead, you know. Part of me will always be absolutely positive you’ve faked your own.”

“Oh? And who says I’m dying before you?”

I shrugged. “You’re the one who left our security detail behind.”

“True,” he allowed with a smirk. “Maybe you’ve got a point after all.”

When D.C. finally came into view, the knot in my stomach grew into full-on nausea. It was one thing to sneak into an office to steal a file or overhear a crucial conversation. It was another thing entirely to walk in right under our allies’ noses, knowing full well we were keeping secrets that could win or lose the war.