Queen - Aimee Carter

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going to be one of them, you know.” A gloved hand appeared in front of me, and I took it, letting my defender help me up.

      “It’s not my fault my biological father was a Hart,” I muttered, wincing as I touched my ribs. Rivers, one of the former prisoners who had been lucky enough to be picked as a low-level guard, touched my chin and inspected my face. His blue eyes were the same shade as mine, and I stared back. I’d been beaten up enough in the past month that another set of bruised ribs wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it was the way they were talking, the things they were saying—that was what made a hollow form in the pit of my stomach. Was this what they all believed?

      “It’s not your fault you’re a product of Daxton Hart, but it is your fault you’re up there instead of down here,” he said, glancing nervously over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to the doctor before they come back with friends.”

      “I don’t need a doctor,” I muttered. “I need something to do.”

      “You mean getting yourself beaten to a pulp isn’t enough?” said Rivers.

      “I’ve been doing that for weeks. I want to help.”

      “You just did this morning.” Instead of leading me back up the hill, he guided me into the maze of narrow alleyways behind the buildings, away from the main streets.

      “That wasn’t helping. That was just—talking.”

      “It did more to help than anything the Blackcoats have done since the battle,” said Rivers, and I huffed.

      “Where are we going?”

      “You’ll see.”

      Had it been almost anyone else, I would have turned right around and returned to the relative safety of the main road. But Rivers had protected me time and time again, and if he was going to kill me, he would have done it ages ago. Besides, though we’d never voiced it aloud, we both suspected the unique color of our eyes wasn’t by chance. If Daxton Hart had fathered me with a prisoner in Elsewhere, then it was possible he’d had other affairs. If I couldn’t trust my potential half brother, then I couldn’t trust anyone, and I wasn’t that far gone yet.

      We passed a few lone citizens in the darker alleyways, and though they all stared, none bothered to approach us or offer help. It was clear Rivers was right. I wasn’t one of them, and I never would be.

      But I wasn’t a Hart, either, and I was barely a member of the Blackcoats as it was. I didn’t belong down here, but I also didn’t belong in the manor. And that was far scarier than anything Daxton could throw at me—the realization that no matter what rank I’d earned or whose face I wore, I had no idea where I really belonged.

      We wound through the alleyways in the heart of Elsewhere until, at last, Rivers opened a door and gestured for me to enter. It led into a building I’d never been inside before, and the smell of stale chemicals burned my nostrils.

      “Do I even want to know what this place is?” I said, scowling as Rivers led me into a dank storage room filled with what looked like old towels.

      “Better if you don’t. Then you might have a chance of sleeping tonight,” he said as he tugged on a rusted metal shelf. With a loud creak of protest, it swung aside as if it were on a pair of hinges, revealing a door. “I found this when I was still doing a work order here as a prisoner. It’s an entrance into a network of tunnels.”

      I blinked in surprise. I’d thought the tunnel under Mercer Manor—the same that had protected any number of citizens during the Battle of Elsewhere—had been the only one. A last resort for the Mercers, if the prisoners ever started an uprising the guards couldn’t handle. Hannah had shown it to me when she’d discovered that her husband planned to kill me on sight, and she’d insisted it let out somewhere safe beyond his reach. It had never occurred to me that there could be others. Mercer Manor had been protected—no citizen could have accidentally stumbled upon the entrance to the tunnel in their cellar. But this was right here, staring me in the face, where anyone could’ve found it. Where Rivers had found it.

      “How far does it go?” I said, stunned. Suddenly the ache in my side from where steel-toed boots had connected with my ribs didn’t seem to hurt as badly.

      Rivers scratched his head, his blond hair falling into his eyes. “Not sure. I know some of the tunnels lead into the other sections, at the very least. For all I know, it spreads throughout Elsewhere.”

      I took a hesitant step into the darkness, and Rivers produced a flashlight, illuminating the narrow passageway. The ground was hardened from countless footsteps, but clumps of dirt hung from the ceiling, giving me the sickening sensation that it could collapse at any moment. “Have you told Knox?”

      “Yeah. Even gave Strand a tour. They didn’t seem interested.” Taking my elbow, Rivers led me inside, swinging the shelf and door into place behind us. The tunnel sloped steeply, descending far belowground.

      “Why not? This could solve the supply lines issue, if one of the tunnels leads out of Elsewhere,” I said. “Not even Knox is that shortsighted.”

      “Couldn’t tell you. Asking questions isn’t my job,” said Rivers, giving me a significant look as we approached a fork.

      I hesitated. “But you think it’s mine?”

      Rivers shrugged and headed down the left branch. “Maybe they have a good reason for not using it, but like you said, it could solve all our supply line problems. What’s going on between the two of you, anyway?”

      “Who? Me and Strand?”

      He snorted. “I know exactly what’s going on between you and Strand. You both hate each other so much that it’s a miracle the walls don’t ice over when you two are in the same room.”

      I made a face. “Is it that obvious?”

      “I’ve seen machine guns that are more subtle. I mean you and Knox, you goof. What’s going on there?”

      “Nothing,” I said, maybe a little too quickly. Rivers raised an eyebrow, and I raised one right back. “I mean it. Nothing’s going on there. He was my fake fiancé, and now he’s the head of the Blackcoats and wants to send me off to join my mother in hiding instead of letting me fight, but he knows he’ll lose support if he doesn’t have a mouthpiece who can string a sentence together, so here we are.”

      “Yes, I know all of that, thank you. I mean what is it you two aren’t telling the rest of us?”

      I eyed him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

      I expected some kind of quip in return, but instead Rivers studied me. Even in the dim light, I could see the blue in his eyes. He must have been able to see it in mine, too. “You know he’s crazy about you, right?” he said.

      “If you mean I make him crazy, then yes, I know,” I said carefully.

      “That, too,” he agreed with a grin. “But we both know what I’m talking about.”

      Except I didn’t. All I could see when I looked at Knox was the way he viewed me as nothing more than an annoyance. Our so-called friendship had been going steadily downhill since Augusta’s death, and now we could barely say a word to each other without bickering. That wasn’t him being crazy about me. That was us driving each other insane.

      “I’m with Benjy,” I said resolutely. “I love him.”

      “Doesn’t stop Knox from wanting you.”

      “Knox is better than that,” I snapped, and as soon as I realized what I’d said, I clamped my mouth shut. It was too late, though, and Rivers grinned.

      “Is he? Wouldn’t have thought it from the way you talk about him.”

      I gritted my teeth. There was no

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