wax so he can’t hear Mr. Guthrie speaking?” She frowned, as if flummoxed by the problem. “But that would make it difficult for him to hear any requests for service as well.” She glanced at Dante and saw that while he was looking straight ahead, his lips were twitching as if he was fighting a smile. Clearly imitating a blind and deaf piece of furniture was not his forte. It was lucky Jewel had her back turned to him or she’d probably be demanding his head on a platter.
Jewel held her nose a little higher in the air. “Make jokes if you must, but it’s unseemly behavior for a servant. That other one knew his place.”
“That other one?” Nadia asked, unable to keep her voice from rising just a bit. “You mean Sully? Who’s been attending us for two years? Do you mean to tell me after all that time you don’t know his name?” That seemed to be taking the superiority act a little far, even for Jewel.
“You’re missing the point. In light of recent events, you would be wise to exercise extra caution in regards to propriety. There are those who might take offense at your servant’s behavior and take your unwillingness to correct it as a sign of moral turpitude.”
There was an implicit threat evident in Jewel’s words, and Nadia knew she should take that threat seriously. Jewel could easily start a rumor that the male servants at Nadia’s house behaved in an “unseemly” manner, which could lead the most spiteful and jealous of the gossipmongers to start speculating about just what kind of unseemly behavior was involved. Such rumors could eventually become stories about how the servants were servicing Nadia in bed, or something equally ridiculous.
But really, how seriously could she take someone who used the term “moral turpitude” in everyday speech?
“I’m touched to know you’ve taken such a keen interest in preserving my reputation,” Nadia said, then affected another puzzled frown. “Or is it my servant you’ve taken such an interest in?” she asked, making a show of looking Dante up and down. “I must admit, he is nice to look at, but I had no idea you would find him so … distracting.”
The color that rose to Jewel’s cheeks was quite gratifying indeed. Nadia wasn’t as good at starting rumors as Jewel was—she suspected the art required more malice than she herself was capable of—but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it. Jewel liked to think of herself as the queen bee among the upper echelons of the Executive teens, and she and the rest of the Trio did wield a great deal of social power, but there were plenty of people jealous enough of her to revel in a good, unsavory rumor.
Nadia dropped her voice to something just above a whisper, through with the games. “Neither of us is going to come out of it unstained if you take this any further. I suggest for your own sake that you pay more attention to your lessons and less attention to who else may or may not be listening.” How had she ended up defending the guy she knew was here to spy on her? If she’d been using her head instead of reacting emotionally, she might have been able to use Jewel’s complaint as an excuse to get Dante out of the schoolroom and away from her.
Jewel smiled, a razor-sharp expression that held no warmth. “I was merely trying to be helpful.”
Nadia didn’t dignify that with an answer, and was more relieved than she wanted to admit when Jewel gave up and flounced off. Hostilities weren’t over—they never were, where Jewel was concerned—but at least they were on temporary hiatus.
Nadia began fixing the cup of tea she no longer wanted, and she was surprised when Dante finally left his post at the wall and made his way to the table beside her. He made a show of gathering the trash and dirty dishes onto a tray, but if he were just doing his duty he would have waited until after the break was over.
“I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position,” he said in a voice so low she could barely hear him. “I’ll try not to catch her attention again.”
Nadia dunked her tea bag a little more vigorously than necessary as she took a sidelong glance at him. His eyes were a green-flecked brown, and they sparkled with humor. He must have really enjoyed listening to a pair of Executive girls arguing over him.
“If you’re going to play at being a servant,” she said in an equally low voice, “you should at least
Dante arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said with a pretty good impression of puzzlement. “All I wanted to do was apologize for my mistake. And if you dunk that tea bag one more time, your tea is going to be dark enough to pass for coffee.”
Nadia withdrew the tea bag—he was right, and the tea was likely undrinkable—and dropped it on the tray he extended to her.
“Will there be anything else, Miss Lake?” he asked, suddenly turning formal again.
In her peripheral vision, Nadia saw that the other girls were back in the schoolroom, and she figured even if they weren’t looking directly at her, they were very aware of her and—thanks to Jewel—of Dante. So that was why he’d turned formal again after his overly familiar teasing.
“No,” she said with a sigh, wishing for a simpler life. “You’ve done quite enough already.”
CHAPTER SIX
It had been almost forty-eight hours since Nate’s murder, and still no word from Kurt. Not that Nate was expecting word anymore. If Kurt had been planning to contact him, he’d have left
There was only one logical place to begin the search: the Basement.
There were parts of the Basement that respectable Employees and Executives could visit during the day with relative safety. These were the neighborhoods on the fringes, not controlled by any of the gangs. These were also the neighborhoods where the black market did a brisk business, selling goods smuggled in from rival states.
Though the Replica technology was unequaled anywhere in the world, the rest of Paxco’s home-grown tech was decidedly second-rate. Officially, Paxco citizens could buy Paxco products at reasonable prices, or a competitor’s superior products at absurdly high prices with a premium tax on top. Even the richest of Paxco’s citizens balked at those prices, and there wasn’t a single Executive Nate knew who didn’t take advantage of the black market’s offerings—usually through intermediaries, because even in the fringes the Basement was never truly safe.
What Nate was contemplating was not a routine visit. To track down Kurt, he would have to delve into the Basement’s human trafficking market—and that would require him to go deeper into Debasement, where even Paxco security officers feared to tread. It would require him to leave the relative safety of the daylight and venture into the dangers of the Basement night.
Even thinking about going into the Basement at night sent a shiver of adrenaline down Nate’s spine. Like any young man of means, he’d made forays into Debasement with friends, dipping his feet into the shallow end. The neighborhoods that housed the black market during the day turned into something much more sinister at night. The privileged rich could sample some of Debasement’s most tempting vices, dabbling in drugs, exotic contraband, and sex for hire. Such behavior was officially frowned upon, but everyone knew that perfectly respectable Executives and Employees took advantage of the opportunities there.
Nate had never told anyone, not even Nadia, the truth about how he’d met Kurt. Sure, Kurt had shown up at one of the Basement recruitment drives the Chairman sponsored, but he’d come because Nate had invited him. Nate had first met Kurt at a Basement-fringe club called Angel’s, one of the favorite destinations of well-heeled tourists. At Angel’s, you could get cheap, home-brewed drinks that ate a hole in your stomach, or you could get expensive brands that weren’t carried by any official Paxco liquor stores. You could also get any drug your heart desired, and a pretty girl or boy to “entertain” you in one of the private rooms upstairs.
Last year, Nate had gone to Angel’s with a group of friends. Well, not friends, exactly. It was hard to make real friends when you had a secret you couldn’t afford to share—and when most people who tried to make friends
