Replica

kind of guy. She couldn’t help thinking about the opinions she’d seen touted on the net, the ones that suggested Replicas might have violent tendencies. They were making something out of nothing, of course, extrapolating wildly based on one brief loss of poise with a reporter. Everything that had happened since the night of the reception was enough to put anyone on a short fuse, Replica or not.

“Yeah,” Dante mumbled, eying Nate warily as if primed for another attack.

Nadia gave Dante a hand up, then turned to glare at Nate, who was still nursing his sore knuckles. Nadia wondered if that was the first punch he’d ever thrown. It would serve him right if he’d broken some fingers.

“What the hell was that all about?” she demanded.

“He’s a sneak, and he terrified you,” Nate responded, looking both sullen and stubborn.

It was Mosely’s call that had terrified her this morning, not the note Dante had tucked into her napkin, but she hadn’t specifically told Nate that. She wondered if he’d have gone all protective and alpha male on her if Dante weren’t so good-looking. He was acting positively territorial, although Dante was hardly of a class to be a rival. Nadia opened her mouth to give Nate a piece of her mind, but Dante forestalled her.

“Time out,” he said, making the requisite hand gesture. Nadia noted that although he was still acting wary, he was taking Nate’s unprovoked attack with a surprising level of calm, as if it didn’t bother him. “I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. We have more important things to talk about.” The look in his eyes hardened as he fixed his gaze on Nate. “Try that again, though, and I’ll fight back. You wouldn’t like that, especially when you’re already sore.”

Nadia got ready to jump in between the two, thinking that Dante’s calmly spoken words were more of an invitation to further fighting than a conciliation. “You may call me Mr. Hayes,” Nate said, low and menacing. “And how would you know I’m already sore?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Nadia said in exasperation. “Dante is a friend of Bishop’s. Now, why don’t you sit down, shut up, and listen for once in your life.”

Nate gave her a shocked look, but he was just going to have to get used to her standing up to him from now on. She had to fight a smile, proud of herself, when Nate meekly sat on one of the benches and made a zipping- his-lips gesture. Taking a deep breath, Nadia sat beside him and told him everything she’d learned from Dante, who stood off to the side, silent. The only thing she didn’t mention was her suspicion that Bishop had been planted in his household by the resistance. The idea would no doubt occur to him anyway, but perhaps not right away.

For a long time after Nadia finished talking, Nate didn’t say anything. He sat forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at the paving stones beneath his feet as he took it all in. The look on his face told her he was lost in thought, but it didn’t tell her anything about what he was thinking, and she thought he might be guarding his expression because of Dante’s presence.

Eventually, he sat up straight and glanced over to Dante.

“Explain this,” he said. “Why is it that yesterday, Bishop was trying so hard to keep me away that he had me beaten, and today he wants to see me?”

It was a good question, and Nadia’s suspicious mind immediately suggested it was a trap of some kind.

Dante shook his head. “He’ll explain when and if you see him.”

“No, you’ll explain,” Nate insisted, “and right now.”

“Or what?” Dante asked, raising an eyebrow. “You need me to take you to the meeting.”

“How do I know anything you’re saying is true?” Nate countered. “You could be trying to set me up for … something.”

“You’re just going to have to take it on faith, I suppose. Nadia was under the impression you wanted to see him, but if you’re not interested…” He shrugged his broad shoulders, and there was a hint of smugness in his tone.

Even in the lamp-lit darkness, Nadia could see the flush of anger creeping up Nate’s neck. He wouldn’t have missed Dante’s overly familiar use of Nadia’s first name, and Nadia didn’t think that had been a slip of the tongue. Dante might not have come up swinging after Nate hit him, but it seemed like he was being deliberately provoking. Maybe he hoped Nate would throw another punch so he could show off his own manly prowess. But though Nate didn’t make a habit of controlling his quick temper, tonight he kept it in check.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll go. But if you’re lying to me, it’ll turn out very, very bad for you.” Dante rolled his eyes at the threat. “So when and where is this meeting?”

“The where is a secret,” Dante said. “I’ll take you there. Take your phones with you to bed tonight. Sometime after midnight, you’ll get a call from me. Nadia first, then you.”

“Remember when I told you you could call me Mr. Hayes?” Nate said. “Well, you can call her Miss Lake.”

Ordinarily, Nate wasn’t nearly this uptight about protocol, and he’d be perfectly happy to allow the informal address. But it was obvious he and Dante rubbed each other the wrong way, and Nadia thought once again her services as peacekeeper might be needed.

“In there,” Dante said, jerking his thumb at the apartment behind him, “I’m a servant and I’ll address you both as such. Here and now, I’m your co-conspirator, and we’ll talk as equals or we won’t talk at all.”

“Fine,” Nate said, dissatisfied. “But even as a supposed ‘equal,’ you don’t know me well enough to call me Nate.”

“Fine,” Dante said in a similar tone. “Nathaniel. I’ll ring you and Nadia after midnight. You’ll sneak down to the service entrance, and I’ll be waiting for you there in a white panel van. Nathaniel, you should wear your Basement disguise. And Nadia, I’ll have a disguise for you in the van.”

Nate was shaking his head violently. “You are not taking Nadia into the Basement. I’m willing to take whatever risks are necessary myself, but she’s been through enough already.”

Nadia’s emotions were a confusing swirl. Fear at the thought of venturing into the Basement at night. Gratitude that Nate still cared about her enough to object. And determination to make her own decisions about what she would and would not risk.

“Bishop’s instructions were very clear,” Dante said. “Either you both go, or neither of you goes.”

“We can both go somewhere other than the Basement.”

“You’re under the mistaken impression that this is a negotiation. It isn’t. It’s a take-it-or-leave-it deal.”

Nate opened his mouth to protest, but Nadia put her hand on his arm to stop him.

“I’ll go, Nate,” she said quietly, ignoring the flutter of fear in her belly. “If that’s the only way Bishop will see you, then I’ll do it. There has to be a reason he’s changed his mind about seeing you, and I suspect it’s something we need to know. I’m already in this up to my eyeballs anyway.”

Nate put on his stubborn face, which she knew all too well. “I am not taking you into the Basement.”

“Yes, you are,” Nadia said more firmly, then turned her attention to Dante. “I presume you won’t be parading me through the streets for everyone to see.” The predators couldn’t hurt her if they didn’t know she was there.

Dante gave her an approving smile. “No. We’ll be discreet. The disguise is just a precaution. If all goes well, it’ll be only the good guys who see you.”

“If all goes well,” Nate muttered darkly. “Nothing has gone well since the moment I came back to life. Why should I expect that to change?”

“We’re doing this,” Nadia said. “We have to.” She tried not to think about what she would tell Mosely the next time he talked to her, which, with Nate’s visit to her apartment tonight, would no doubt be tomorrow. If she’d managed to convince him of her ignorance today, she wasn’t sure how she’d do it tomorrow. But that was getting way ahead of herself.

Thinking of Mosely reminded Nadia about the new tracker she was supposed to plant on Nate, and she reached into her pocket to draw it out.

“By the way,” she said, “I’m supposed to plant this on you. Will you take it with you when you leave here tonight so it looks like I’ve done what I’m supposed to?”

Nate took the envelope from her hand and nodded. “Sure.” He tucked the envelope into his jacket pocket, then reached out and took both her hands, drawing her closer to him. She looked up and met his eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, squeezing her hands tightly. “I’ve put you in so much danger already…”

Nadia squeezed his hands back and gave him a smile. Then she freed one of her hands and reached up to smooth the worry line that had appeared between his brows. However angry he was about her deception, there