Pawn. Aimee Carter

the country would recognize. “What’s your name?”

      I clutched my dress so tightly that the fabric began to rip. “Kitty,” I croaked.

      The corners of his dark eyes crinkled in amusement. He removed his hat, revealing a high forehead, bushy eyebrows, and dark hair that was graying at the temples. If I’d had any doubts before, now I was positive.

      Prime Minister Daxton Hart. The position was supposed to be temporary, but when the elections came every four years, there was only one name on the ballot.

      “Kitty,” he said, as if he was testing out my name. “Is that short for something?”

      “Yeah,” I said. “It’s short for ‘my mother was insane and had a thing for cats.’”

      Silence filled the room, and the Shield stared at me as if he couldn’t believe I’d talked back to the prime minister. My mouth went dry, but I held my ground and refused to flinch.

      A few seconds passed, and to my surprise, Daxton laughed. “I like you. You have spunk. Though with a name like Kitty Doe, we both know you never knew your parents.”

      My cheeks grew warm. “If you already knew my name, then why did you ask for it in the first place?”

      He shrugged. “Courtesy, my dear. Though I daresay you will not ask for mine. May I?” He gestured to my neck, and while the thought of anyone touching me made my skin crawl, I nodded. It was the least he would do tonight.

      He brushed his fingers against the ridges and frowned. “A III,” he said gravely. “And a fresh one at that. You must not be very happy.”

      “My choices in life have now been reduced to cleaning sewers or whoring myself out to strangers. It isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

      “What did you have in mind?” he said.

      “None of your business.”

      The guards shifted uneasily, but Daxton sighed. “You’re right, it isn’t. Such a pity. I do like you.”

      He drummed his fingers against his elbow, and we stared at each other. I refused to be the first to look away.

      “Tell you what, Kitty,” he said, and he leaned in closer to me. “How would you like to be a VII?”

      I blinked, and for a second I was positive I’d misheard him. Only the Harts were granted VIIs. Not even the twelve Ministers of the Union were ranked so high.

      “I’m a III,” I said, as if that settled it, because it did. No one changed rank. No one. Everyone took the test, and everyone was marked accordingly. There was no special treatment, no taking it over again. Everyone had the same shot as everyone else. The only exceptions were the Harts, who didn’t take the test at all. “I’m already marked.”

      “Yes, I can see that.” Daxton straightened and adjusted his overcoat. “I will only offer this once, and I need your answer immediately. If you say yes, you will leave with me tonight, and your mark will be replaced.”

      “And if I say no?” I said.

      “I think we both know what happens then.” Daxton checked his gold watch. “My offer is good for the next thirty seconds.”

      I stared at him openly, but his eyes were focused on the time. His finger tapped the watch face as each second ticked by, and with every tap, my throat seemed to close up a little more.

      A VII. A real VII from the prime minister himself. Wealth, power, and prestige, endless resources and beautiful things, never again having to worry about being arrested and sent Elsewhere—

      Benjy.

      What would happen to him? What would he do when he found out I’d disappeared? I couldn’t leave him. A VII was worth a lot, but it wasn’t worth losing one of the few people in my life who really mattered.

      “Do I get to stay in D.C.?” I blurted, and Daxton gave me his trademark benevolent smile.

      “I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” he said. “We have many homes across the country, but the one in Somerset is by far the most lavish.”

      Somerset. That was on the opposite end of the District of Columbia, where the Vs and VIs lived. I wouldn’t have to live in a club. I wouldn’t have to work in the sewers. I wouldn’t even have to leave the city. I’d get to see Benjy whenever I wanted, and when he got his VI—

      What would he say when he saw a fresh VII on the back of my neck? A VII would guarantee me riches beyond imagining, things that would make the perfumes and fruits and silks that were sold in the markets look like worthless trinkets instead of the treasures they were. A mark that meant we wouldn’t have to break the law to stay together.

      So what if I had to be the prime minister’s mistress? He probably had dozens of them. He’d grow tired of me eventually, and then I’d be free to be with Benjy. And I would still be a VII.

      Not a III, not a IV, but a VII.

      “What’s the catch?”

      His lower eyelid twitched, but his expression didn’t change. “Your time is almost up.”

      Whatever the catch was, it was worth thirty thousand gold pieces and a VII. I was stupid for hesitating.

      “Five,” he said, counting down. “Four, three, two—”

      “Yes.” I couldn’t get the word out fast enough. I pictured Benjy’s face when he found out we could stay together, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning.

      A VII. A real VII.

      Daxton’s lips twisted into a strange hybrid of a smirk and a smile. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear that. There is a car waiting. Shall we?”

      He offered me his hand, and his skin was smooth and cool against my damp palm. When we stepped out of the room, half a dozen guards surrounded us, and all of them eyed me. I hunched my shoulders in an attempt to make myself as small as possible.

      “What’s the catch?” I said again.

      “Why on earth do you assume there’s a catch?” said Daxton, and I didn’t answer. Of course there was a catch. No one changed ranks, ever.

      I rushed to keep up with his long strides, and the guards were so close behind us that I couldn’t stop and take a breath. Daxton ushered me down a narrow flight of stairs and through a series of dank hallways, and finally I spotted the exit into the alleyway. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. How was I supposed to let Benjy know I was safe? Daxton had to let me send word. Or did he expect me to cut all ties with my old life completely?

      No. I wasn’t going to abandon Benjy, no matter what he offered me.

      To my left a door opened. Tabs poked her head out in time to see the prime minister walking beside me, and her mouth dropped open. “Kitty?”

      Relief rushed through me. “Let Benjy know I’m okay,” I said. “Go tonight if you can and tell him—”

      “Nothing to see here,” said a guard behind us. He stepped in front of Tabs, blocking her view, and Daxton marched me past her.

      “Let me— Tabs! Tell him!” I called, but she didn’t respond.

      “Come on,” said Daxton, and he pushed me into the alleyway. I shivered. The temperature had dropped several degrees, and my flimsy white dress didn’t provide much protection from the cold. Daxton removed his overcoat, still warm from his body, and draped it over my shoulders.

      “Thanks,” I said. How many times had he done this before? How many mistresses had he bought and enticed with a VII? The thought of sleeping with him made me sick to my stomach, but there was nothing I wouldn’t have done to change my III. Benjy would hate it, but he had to understand. This way, I wouldn’t be putting him in danger. This way, he wouldn’t have to spend his life hiding me. This way, I wouldn’t be forcing him to risk his