I nodded again, and we slipped down the ladder into his empty suite. While Celia immediately headed for the door, Knox watched me climb into the vent.
“I’m sorry for misleading you,” he said as I hauled myself up. “Before, when I said I hadn’t seen Lila give her speeches—I handle information for the Blackcoats.
That’s my job. Not public relations. But I knew she was giving them, and there’s no excuse for me not trusting you with that.”
Right, because now was the perfect time to have this conversation. I wiggled onto my stomach and scooted around until I could see him through the opening in the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” he said firmly. “I should have told you, but we barely knew each other. No one can touch Celia and Lila, but I’m a VI. If anyone found out—”
“I get it,” I said. “You don’t have to explain it to me.”
“Yes, I do, because I want you to know that I’m on your side. I want you to trust me.”
I hesitated. “I do,” I finally said. “And we can talk about it when this is over, but right now I need to go.”
“Be safe,” he said, and as I pulled the grate back into place, he held his hand up in a silent goodbye. This time I returned it.
I couldn’t move from floor to floor in the vents, which made things tricky. By the time I reached the opening closest to a rarely used set of stairs, I was panting from the effort of slithering through the tight enclosure. I dropped out of the vent and ducked into the luxurious stairwell. So far, so good. The corridors were patrolled, but with all that had happened, I held out hope that Augusta had the security team clustered and guarding the family. Knox and Celia were much more likely to run into trouble than I was.
I crept down the stairs, careful not to make a sound.
The basement was four floors down, and I slipped through the door, searching the ceiling for an air vent.
There had to be one around here somewhere.
But there wasn’t. With sinking horror, I even ducked around the nearest corner to see if one was hidden there.
Nothing. I backed up toward the stairwell. The only way to get to the safe room was the hallway, where anyone could see me.
My mind was made up before I even considered it. I took a shaky breath and checked my reflection in the shine of the doorknob. After I wiped a smudge of dirt from my cheek, I still looked exactly like Lila. It was a gamble, banking on Augusta not telling the servants that Lila was on lockdown, but I wouldn’t leave Benjy behind.
With my head held high, I strode down the hallway.
I had Lila’s face, and with her attitude, no one would be any wiser. The reports that I was dead helped boost my confidence, but I still held my breath as I passed a group of servants.
Some stared, but I’d grown used to that by now. Visiting Daxton was my only excuse if someone stopped me, even though the infirmary was in another wing and I was heading in the wrong direction. Luck must have been on my side for once, however, because no one said a word.
When I turned the corner and spotted the entrance to the safe room, I froze. A guard stood straight and unmoving in front of the metal door. His gun was bigger than mine, and he likely had some experience using it, which put me at a distinct disadvantage. Had Augusta warned him? And even if she had, would he really threaten to shoot Lila?
It was a risk I had to take. I hid my holster with my long sweater and walked up to him, oozing fake confidence. He didn’t step aside when he saw me coming, and for one horrible second I thought I saw the hand next to his gun twitch.
“I want to see him,” I said, slipping easily into Lila’s prim accent.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead he studied my face, apparently looking for any sign that I wasn’t Lila.
No one could tell the difference, though, not even her own mother, and the guard didn’t stand a chance. I forced myself to stare back.
“Did you hear me?” I said in Lila’s snooty voice. “Open the door and let me see him.”
“I am sorry, Miss Hart,” he said stiffly. “I am under direct orders not to open the door for anyone but your grandmother.”
I fixed him with the most sinister look I could manage. “Don’t make this difficult. I’ve given you a direct order now, you know.”
The guard looked pained, and he glanced down the hallway. “I am sorry, Miss Hart, but there is nothing I can do—”
Pop.
The tranquilizer dart hit his thigh, and he collapsed.
I tucked the gun back in the waistband of my jeans, and using every bit of strength I could muster, I dragged him away from the door. We were alone, but I knew that wouldn’t last long, especially if someone had overheard us.
Pulling out the password Knox had given me, I held it in one trembling hand, and with the other I searched for the right letters on the screen. They weren’t in alphabetical order, and it took me twice as long to find each letter. By the time I hit the last one, a bead of sweat trickled down my spine.
The screen turned red with words I couldn’t read, and after a moment, it switched back to the keyboard. Confused, I turned the door handle, but it was still locked.
Was there something else? A card I had to swipe, a sensor I had to touch for it to read my thumbprint? I looked around the door, but nothing else stuck out. There wasn’t even a keyhole. Just the screen with its out-of-order letters.
My hands shook as I tried again. Had I skipped a letter? Had I mistaken one for the other?
Another red screen, and I growled in frustration. Time was running out. It wouldn’t be long before someone noticed what was going on, or worse, spotted Celia or Knox trying to escape. I had to do this.
I moved my hand over the letters to try again, but I stopped before I hit the first one. What was it Knox had said when we’d been down there the night of the bombings? Three wrong tries would set off the alarm.
I’d already used up two. If I tried again and didn’t get it right…
What choice did I have, though? I studied the password again, tracing each letter with my finger and finding the corresponding one on the screen, but I didn’t press them.
Not yet. I had to be sure.
But I’d been sure the other two times as well, and no matter how I turned the paper, I couldn’t make sense of why it wasn’t working.
I chewed on my lower lip nervously, and just as I was about to throw caution to the wind and try a third time, it hit me.
Greyson’s lock pick.
My hand flew to my neck, and I fumbled with the clasp. Even if it did set the alarm off, it was worth a shot, and it was a better option than using Knox’s password again.