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“And?”
“And I’ve cashed in a great deal of favors, but it will be for naught if they use the serum against you. You were correct to point out that they don’t have enough evidence, not even circumstantial evidence, to force the serum on you. They’ll try to use it anyway, though, and they’ll pressure Dr. Vargas for any sort of loophole or precedent to warrant its use.”
“If they inject me with the serum, we’re all dead.”
“Probably. But if they don’t, the treason charge should fall away. Mr. Marquez called me as he was leaving the courtroom. He might be able to work out some sort of deal after your statement in court. He’ll contact Senator Masson this afternoon. If he’s successful, you’ll only end up with a slave’s term.”
Her father ran a hand through his hair. “Look, don’t worry about the auction house. Your mother has approached Chairwoman Masson to purchase your mark. She likes you, and she owes the Randolphs greatly after Trudy Poole. You won’t be scrubbing dishes for the rest of your life. She’ll use you, just like your mother used Ms. Poole. Things might not be so bad.”
Dixon snorted.
“It was the best we could do,” her father snapped, sticking his hands into his trouser pockets. “We all knew the consequences of what could happen when we started.”
“Yes, we did. I just never thought it would come to this.”
“Neither did I.”
He dug the toe of his boot into the cobble-lined alley.
Lila saw the half-guilty look in her father’s eyes. He needed something, wanted something from her, just like the oracle. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“Chief Shaw and I need to know what else you found out about the Baron and his associates. Liberté won’t turn over his accounts.”
“Bullstow is stuck, just like always.”
“Yes, and I need the rest of the data. I need to know who else was working for him and who had been trapped by him. Chief Shaw and I need to get this sorted before I leave for Paris in a few months. I can’t become a member of the Allied Council knowing I left Saxony in disarray. I understand this is your last day, child, but Saxony and New Bristol—”
“Need me. I know.”
Even on a day like today, he was all business. Everything went back to the job. A job that had landed her before the disciplinary committee. A job she’d soon pay for with her freedom or perhaps her life. A job she had bungled and left undone, with the consequences of her failure wasted if she did not complete it. A job her father would leave behind as he rose to the Allied Council.
Lila raised her head to the sky, wanting to scream.
A dull, echoing thunk sounded in the quiet. Her father’s back struck the dumpster. He smacked his fists against the steel container, barely recovering his balance, and looked down his nose at Dixon.
A nose dripping with blood.
Lila swiveled her head just time to see her friend wince and shake out his fist.
“Pardon me, sir,” her father said in a snooty, muffled voice.
Dixon flipped him off. Fuck you, you fucking fuck! he mouthed.
Lemaire took out a handkerchief and wiped his nose. “You keep interesting company these days, Elizabeth. I could call for my security detail to arrest him, you know. He’d get a few years, at least.”
Lila held Dixon back as he lunged again. “You’ll keep even more interesting company if he gets angry enough.”
“If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be, Lila girl. But before that happens, don’t you think we should get the information to Chief Shaw or his replacement? Otherwise, this was all for naught.”
“You were right before,” she said. “Everyone wasn’t outed in the Great Purge. I suspect that the Baron set up the dead man’s switch for his most worthless contacts, contacts that he only meant to use in dire circumstances.”
“Dire how?”
“As a way to startle anyone wh
o tried to capture him, to show his kidnappers what would happen if he wasn’t released. I strongly suspect he has another switch, Father, and when that one blows, the press won’t have a cute name for it.”
Lila didn’t admit that she’d already broken into La Roux’s files and stopped the second switch from triggering. She’d seen the articles that had been primed to reach the press. Even she, as an heir and a cynical militia chief, had been shocked into silence. If the next round had triggered, highborn would have hanged beside lowborn and workborn, and Bullstow would have needed a much larger stage if they wished to hang them all at once.
