Pawn

YOU CAN BE A VII. IF YOU GIVE UP EVERYTHING.

For Kitty Doe, it seems like an easy choice. She can either spend her life as a III in misery, looked down upon by the higher ranks and forced to leave the people she loves, or she can become a VII and join the most powerful family in the country.

If she says yes, Kitty will be Masked—surgically transformed into Lila Hart, the Prime Minister’s niece, who died under mysterious circumstances. As a member of the Hart family, she will be famous. She will be adored. And for the first time, she will matter.

There’s only one catch. She must also stop the rebellion that Lila secretly fostered, the same one that got her killed…and one Kitty believes in. Faced with threats, conspiracies and a life that’s not her own, she must decide which path to choose—and learn how to become more than a pawn in a twisted game she’s only beginning to understand.

‘A fresh take on the Greek myths adds sparkle

to this romantic fable.’ —Cassandra Clare on The Goddess Test

‘The narrative is well executed and Kate is a heroine

better equipped than most to confront and cope with the inexplicable.’ —Publishers Weekly on The Goddess Test

‘The Goddess Test puts a fresh twist on the YA paranormal genre by infusing it with back-to-the-basics Greek mythology.’ —New York Journal of Books

‘Carter’s writing is a delight to read—succinct, clean,

descriptive. Goddess Interrupted is definitely a page-turner, one full of suspense, heartbreak, confusion, frustration and yes, romance.’ —YA Reads

‘I think that any person could pick this novel up and feel

connected to Kate and her inner struggles. I not only recommend this book, but the entire series, and hope that you buy the hardbacks and display them on your shelf proudly.’ —Bookalicious on The Goddess Inheritance

‘Absolutely unique, fresh and fascinating’

—BewitchedBookworms.com

AIMÉE CARTER was born and raised in Michigan, where she currently resides. She started writing at eleven, and hasn’t stopped writing since. She attended the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor and received a degree in Screen Arts and Cultures (a fancy way of saying she was forced to watch a lot of old movies) with a sub-concentration in Screenwriting.

She writes. She watches a lot of new movies. Reads a lot of books. Tweets too much. Loves dogs and has two spoiled papillons. You can find her online at www.aimeecarter.com and on Twitter @ aimee_carter.

Pawn

Aimée Carter

www.miraink.co.uk

To Caitlin Straw, for reading every word.

Contents

Praise for AIMÉE CARTER

About the Author

Title Page

I Unlucky

II Auction

III Celia

IV Knox

V Augusta

VI Hunting

VII Trust

VIII Somerset

IX Key

X Lies That Bind

XI Benjy

XII Bloodbath

XIII Fine Line

XIV Equals

XV Underground

XVI Lila

XVII Standoff

XVIII Password

XIX Crimson and White

XX Trust

Questions for Discussion

I

Unlucky

Risking my life to steal an orange was a stupid thing to do, but today of all days, I didn’t care about the consequences. If I were lucky, the Shields would throw me to the ground and put a bullet in my brain.

Dead at seventeen. It would be a relief.

As I hurried through the crowded market, I touched the back of my neck and tried not to wince. That morning, my skin had been pale and smooth, with only a freckle below my hairline. Now that noon had come and the test was over, my skin was marred with black ink that would never wash off and ridges that would never disappear.

III. At least it wasn’t a II, though that wasn’t much of a consolation.

“Kitty,” called Benjy, my boyfriend. He tucked his long red hair behind his ears as he sauntered toward me, taller and more muscular than most of the others in the marketplace. Several women glanced at him as he passed, and I frowned.

I couldn’t tell whether Benjy was oblivious or simply immune to my bad mood, but either way, he gave me a quick kiss and a mischievous look. “I have a birthday present for you.”

“You do?” I said. Guilt washed over me. He didn’t see the orange in my hand or understand I was committing a crime. He should have been safe at school instead of here with me, but he’d insisted, and I had to do this. I’d had one chance to prove I could be worthwhile to society, and I’d failed. Now I was condemned to spend the rest of my life as something less than everyone in that market, all because of the tattoo on the back of my neck. Stealing a piece of fruit meant only for IVs and above wouldn’t make my life any easier, but I needed one last moment of control, even if the Shields arrested me. Even if they really did kill me after all.

Benjy opened his hand and revealed a tiny purple blossom, no bigger than my thumbnail, nestled in his palm. “It’s a violet,” he said. “They’re a perennial flower.”

“I don’t know what that means.” I glanced around, searching for where he might have found it. Three tables down, next to a booth selling pictures of the Hart family, was one boasting colorful bottles of perfume. Tiny purple flowers covered the table. They were only decorations, not goods. Not anything that could get him killed or arrested and sent Elsewhere, like my orange. The seller must have let him take one.