“So we’re going on a road trip,” Nate said, trying to sound casual and unconcerned.
“Let’s wait until nightfall, at least,” Bishop suggested. “We’ll be harder to recognize in the dark, and there’ll be more people out and about to give us cover.”
He turned off the stove and pulled the pot off the burner. Nadia’s stomach gave a lurch when she took a quick glance at the contents. Some artificial chicken flavoring packets had turned the water a shade of yellow not seen in nature, and there were chunks of pink-tinted soy meat product and gray green beans floating in it.
“Dinner is served,” Bishop said with an ironic flourish.
Nadia was sure she wasn’t the only one whose appetite had retreated into a corner to hide, but they were all damn well going to eat what they were given.
* * *
Until the moment that he, Kurt, and Agnes headed out into the night, Nate racked his brain in hopes that he could come up with a better plan. Splitting up seemed like a bad idea, and yet there was no good reason to risk letting Nadia, with her famous face and her so-so disguise, be seen out in public. Hell, there wasn’t a whole lot of reason to risk Nate showing his face, except that he had put his foot down and insisted on coming along, disguised as his Basement alter ego, the Ghost. No one was going to recognize the Chairman Heir beneath the white wig, the bluish-white face powder, and the pale blue contact lenses. He needed to be doing something instead of sitting around thinking. His mind was too full of horrors, his heart too full of jumbled emotions. Besides, he was the rightful Chairman of Paxco. He needed Agnes to reassure her father she hadn’t been kidnapped and to verify their crazy-sounding story, but if anyone was going to encourage a foreign power to invade his state, it was going to be him.
“Stay close,” Kurt said unnecessarily as he and Nate and Agnes merged with the crowd that had started forming in the street the moment the sun went down.
Nate wished there were some way they could get in touch with Chairman Belinski without having to drag Agnes through the streets of the Basement. She was in disguise, of course, and the people of the Basement made a practice of minding their own business, but there was an aura of vulnerability about her that he feared might attract the wrong sort. But she had been adamant that she had to be the one to make the call, and it was hard to argue. He was certain that Belinski thought Nate had kidnapped his daughter, so there was no way he would listen to anything Nate had to say without Agnes there.
He and Kurt sandwiched Agnes, doing the best they could to shield her and make it obvious to any Basement predators that she was not unprotected, as they made their way toward the Basement’s border. It was possible Dorothy had cut off phone service in the low-class Employee neighborhoods just beyond the Basement, but it seemed unlikely. Low-class those Employees might be, but they were still Employees. Dorothy could get away with shenanigans that only hurt Basement-dwellers, but she’d have a lot harder time justifying anything that might cause problems for Employees.
Hopefully, within a block or two after passing the Basement’s border, they would be able to pick up a phone signal. Then they’d find somewhere as secluded as possible so that Agnes could make her phone call without being observed. And hope that they weren’t caught on surveillance video and recognized before they could plan a strategy with Chairman Belinski.
“Something seems off,” Kurt commented.
Nate shook himself out of his worries and looked around, trying to see what Kurt was talking about.
“What do you mean?” Agnes asked.
Kurt shook his head. “Not sure, really. Just feels … different out here.”
As soon as Kurt pointed it out, Nate noticed it, too. Here in the “tourist” areas of the Basement, where Employees and Executives came to play, there was usually a palpable buzz of energy in the air. Lots of adrenaline-fueled excitement from the tourists, lots of predatory anticipation in the Basement-dwellers who planned to take advantage of them.
Tonight, the mood felt strangely subdued, even though there were just as many people on the streets as usual, and business was being transacted.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Nate muttered. But there was nothing to do but keep moving and hope it was all in their imagination.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
When the street they were following neared the Basement’s edge, the tension in the air reached such a level that even Agnes felt it, and they soon found out why.
A row of sawhorses had been set up at the border, crossing from sidewalk to sidewalk with only two small openings at the center. Each opening was manned by two uniformed security officers, and it appeared that anyone who wanted to cross the border in either direction was being required to show ID.
Worse, there was a giant video screen set up behind the barricade facing the Basement, its message blinking ostentatiously. Impossible to miss.
First, a picture of Nadia; then a picture of Nate; then WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE. And finally, most chilling of all: REWARD $100,000 AND EMPLOYEE STATUS.
Nate stopped in his tracks and swallowed hard. That would be a hell of a lot of money for a Basement-dweller even if it was being offered in credits, but in dollars …
Kurt uttered a string of curses, then took hold of both Nate’s and Agnes’s arms and steered them away in a hurry.
“No talking!” he snapped at them even though no one had tried to say anything. He glanced around him significantly. Nate got the message, and he presumed Agnes did, too. There were ears all around them, and if they said anything that suggested the roadblock was meant for them, someone would be sure to hear. They’d probably drawn enough attention to themselves by their abrupt about-face, although glancing over his shoulder Nate could see they weren’t the only ones doing it. There were plenty of people in the Basement who did not want to parade themselves in front of security officers.
Trying not to look overly furtive, they headed back toward Kurt’s apartment. It was time to come up with a plan B.
CHAPTER TWO
Nadia hadn’t considered that with Agnes, Nate, and Bishop all heading out to try to reach Chairman Belinski, she and Dante would be left alone together in Bishop’s apartment.
There wasn’t any furniture in his living room—unless you counted the smattering of mismatched, stained sofa cushions that were scattered around the floor. Nadia made herself comfortable by dragging one of those cushions to the edge of the room so she could use the wall as an impromptu backrest. Dante grabbed another cushion and came toward her.
“Scooch forward,” he said, then tucked the cushion behind her when she obeyed. He grinned down at her. “Almost as comfy as your living room couch, no?”
She smiled at him as he joined her on the “couch,” sitting shoulder to shoulder with her and stretching out his legs. “Depends on your definition of almost,” she replied. She leaned into him, and he took the hint, draping his arm around her shoulders. She sighed and snuggled against him, closing her eyes and trying not to think.
They sat like that for a few minutes in companionable silence, just enjoying each other’s company and the luxury of privacy. Then Dante kissed the top of her head, and the very air that surrounded them seemed to change. Nadia’s pulse picked up its pace, and her hand somehow found its way to the center of Dante’s nicely muscled chest. He sucked in a hurried breath, his heart kicking beneath her fingertips.
Such innocent touches, and yet they filled the room with an electric sense of anticipation. Nadia turned her face up to his, hardly able to believe the longing that coursed through her. They were sitting on the floor on stained cushions in an apartment that was about one step short of being condemned. They were on the run, their lives in constant danger. It was about as unromantic a situation as Nadia could imagine. But when Dante kissed her, it was as if the rest of the world just fell away.
A needy little sound escaped Nadia’s throat, and she buried her fingers in Dante’s hair, clinging to him as if she would never let go. Her skin f
elt hot and tingly all over, and the touch of his hands sent her heart racing. She wanted to know what his skin felt like next to hers, wanted to get their shirts out of the way so she could find out, and from Dante’s greedy kisses, she could tell he wanted the same.
Her hands drifted down his back, tucking into the hem of his shirt and dragging it upward. He showed no inclination to protest as she dragged the hem up his back, all the way to his shoulders.
They had to break the kiss so Nadia could pull the shirt off over his head, but the sacrifice was worth it. Nadia admired the sculpted muscles of his chest with the tips of her fingers, loving how his skin peppered with goose bumps at her touch.
“We don’t know how long the others will be gone,” he reminded her breathlessly. But his hands were reaching for the bottom of her tattered and stained tunic top.
“We have at least a few minutes, surely,” she said, lifting her arms over her head so that Dante could pull the tunic off.
“Definitely not enough time,” he said.
Nadia was left in nothing but her bra and the shapeless pants she’d been issued at the retreat. Having never undressed in front of a guy before, she was surprised by the wave of self-consciousness that crashed over her as his eyes examined the expanse of flesh that had been revealed. Were her breasts too small for his liking? She’d never had many curves, and based on the rest of the women of her family, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be developing any. She had to fight the urge to cover herself with her arms, and her cheeks glowed with heat. And yet for all her nerves, she couldn’t deny the thrill of excitement that coursed through her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulders in a gesture that was almost reverent.
“You, too,” she managed to choke out, then realized what she’d said and felt the glow in her cheeks grow hotter.
Dante’s eyes twinkled with a mixture of desire and humor, his lips turned up in a tempting smile. He was clearly not insulted. His fingers traced down the edges of her collarbone, drifting lower.
Nadia made an appreciative, encouraging sound in her throat and saw how he swallowed hard, his eyes huge and dark.
They both stiffened in a hurry when they heard the sound of footsteps pounding in the hall outside. Nadia let out a little gasp and lunged for her tunic, while Dante cursed under his breath and pulled on his T-shirt. Inside out.
Nadia struggled into the tunic, and as she tugged it into place, the footsteps kept right on pounding—all the way past the door. She and Dante both let out little laughs of relief, and he fixed his T-shirt. There was no way they could start back up where they’d left off—they’d both have half their attention focused on the hallway outside, listening for a sign that their friends were about to walk in on them.
“It’s kinda hot in here,” Nadia said, fanning her face. She knew perfectly well the heat was coming from inside her, but she climbed to her feet anyway. “Let’s open a window.”
“Sure,” Dante said, sounding resigned. “Only let me kill the lights first so no one can see your face.”
She grimaced, realizing she’d been about to do something stupid and careless. Standing in front of a window with the lights on and showing her face to anyone who cared to look up was not the best plan for someone who was supposed to be in hiding. She waited until Dante flipped the lights off, then opened the window.
The air that wafted in from the open window probably wasn’t any cooler than the air inside the apartment, but there was a pleasant breeze blowing. She propped her forearms on the windowsill and gazed out at the teeming streets of the Basement. At first, all she saw was a sea of color, the denizens of the Basement vying with each other to be the most eye-catching. Then she started noticing individuals, the women dressed in clothes that left little to the imagination, the drug dealers peddling their wares out in the open because laws weren’t enforced here, the thieves and pickpockets trolling the “tourists” for easy prey.
“I used to think my life sucked,” Dante said, joining her at the window and looking down at the crowd. “There’s not a lot of perks to being the son of a couple of sanitation workers. I’ve been to the Basement before, but it wasn’t until lately that I realized how good I had it growing up.”
Nadia nodded, but made no comment. She had often envied Employees the freedom of their lives—the freedom to choose their own careers and their own spouses—but she had never felt that way about Basement-dwellers. Their choices were limited at best from the moment of their birth, just like Executives, and yet they didn’t have the safe and comfortable living conditions to make up for it. All of the downsides of being an Executive, with none of the perks.
The sound of a loudspeaker, distant enough that she couldn’t make out any words, caught Nadia’s attention, and she glanced around looking for its source. She didn’t see anything, but Dante nudged her arm with his elbow and pointed upward.
A blimp was hovering above the Basement, and on its side was a huge video screen. The voice Nadia had heard was Dorothy, gazing sternly out from the screen as she spoke into a bank of microphones. It was some kind of press conference, but it appeared to be finishing up. The scene quickly shifted to slightly grainy surveillance footage. Footage that showed Nate pointing a gun at his father’s head and calmly pulling the trigger while Dorothy lay unconscious on the floor and Nadia stood by, a gun in her hand and a smirk on her face.
“Christ!” Dante said beside her, and he held tighter to her hand. “That looks completely real.”
“It isn’t,” Nadia said, a little too emphatically. She knew Dante believed her and Nate’s version of the story, but she knew she herself would have doubts if she hadn’t been there to see what really happened in person. The video was a complete fabrication. Nadia supposed that if Thea was able to create perfect Replicas of human beings in the flesh, it wasn’t hard to imagine she could create digital images of them, complete with voices.
The scene shifted again as the blimp made its lazy way through the sky, this time showing Paxco’s new chief of security offering a reward for information leading to Nate and Nadia’s capture. The scene shifted one more time, and Nadia clapped her hand over her mouth to try to contain a cry of dismay.
A mob of reporters, snapping pictures and shouting questions, were being held back by security officers as Gerald and Esmeralda Lake, Nadia’s parents, were dragged out of the Lake Towers in handcuffs. Her father’s face was white, his eyes glazed with shock, and her mother was openly sobbing. As if that weren’t bad enough, Gerri’s husband was being dragged along right behind them. He must have gone over to their apartment to share in their grief over Gerri’s death, thereby making it easy for Dorothy to round up everyone together. Gerri’s two kids, Corinne and Rory, were both howling with tears as members of Child Protective Services carried them out of the building.
“No,” Nadia gasped, shaking her head as if she could make the horrifying images go away. She had tried so hard to protect her family, especially her little niece and nephew. Thanks to Nadia’s decisions, Gerri was dead. Now their parents and Gerri’s husband were in custody, and her children about to disappear into the foster care system. It was more than Nadia could take.
Dante wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Nadia’s eyes remained dry, but her heart was hammering and she could hardly draw in a full breath. Her skin felt cold and clammy, and the floor beneath her seemed to be moving. A detached part of her mind wondered if she was having a full-fledged panic attack. As scared as she was for herself and her friends, it couldn’t compare to the fear she felt for her family, who had no idea what was going on and who were helpless to defend themselves against Thea’s cruelty.
Dante slammed the window shut with more force than necessary while Nadia stood paralyzed by mute horror. He gently guided her away from the window and toward their makeshift sofa.
* * *
“So to sum up,” Nate said, when he, Kurt, and Agnes returned to the apartment after their fail
ed attempt to get a phone signal, “we can’t get out of the Basement. We can’t call anyone. Some number of Basement-dwellers will be eager to turn us in because they hate us for being Execs or they just want the reward money. And we don’t have enough money to keep a roof over our heads and food in our mouths for more than about a week.”
As bad as everything about their situation seemed, it was that last part that was the most immediate concern. Money didn’t solve all the world’s problems, but it sure could be helpful.
“There are ways we can earn money,” Kurt said tentatively, watching closely for Nate’s reaction. Nate might not even have realized what he was suggesting if it weren’t for the way he was looking at him.
“No,” Nate said, proud of himself for keeping his voice calm and level, even if his blood pressure did go through the roof. “You are not working ever again. Period.”
Agnes blushed a deep, dark red when she figured out the implications of the exchange, and even Dante looked uncomfortable, pointedly looking away. Only Nadia seemed unfazed by Kurt’s suggestion.
“I agree with Nate,” she said. “You’re taking enough risks for us as it is.”
“And if it’s the only way we can get money?” Kurt challenged.
“Maybe it isn’t,” Nadia said. “I know the resistance doesn’t want to help us or shelter us or anything like that. But maybe they’d be willing to pay us for information.”
Kurt scowled at her. “You mean information like the stuff I already know about Dorothy and Thea? Stuff I would tell them for free? You know I am still a member of the resistance, least as far as I know. I haven’t disobeyed any orders.”
“Only because you haven’t talked to anyone yet,” Dante countered. “You know they’re going to order you to stay away from Nate and Nadia the second you check in. You’re going to have to choose between their resistance and ours.” His glance flicked quickly to Nate and back. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’ll choose ours. And if that’s the case, getting them to pay us for information is a good idea.”