“Why don’t you hit the shower first,” Nadia suggested to Nate, “since I don’t have any nuts to freeze off if you use too much hot water.”
Nate grinned. He should have known better than to think Nadia was that easily offended. And from the looks of her, Agnes was still too uncomfortable about her costume to pay much attention.
“I’ll hurry anyway,” he assured her, then headed toward the bathroom.
Debasement came alive at night, its streets teeming with forbidden pleasures and unseen dangers. Looking down at the crowded streets from Kurt’s fifth-floor window, Nate was filled with a guilty yearning for the nights when he had traveled those streets as the Ghost, his Basement alter ego, with Kurt by his side. Nights when he’d been willfully oblivious to the squalor around him, blinded by the exotic trappings and the sense of being someone other than the Chairman Heir of Paxco for just a few hours.
How different the world had looked to him then. And how different his future had looked. His life had changed so much in the last handful of weeks, he could hardly comprehend it.
Nate turned from the window at the sound of a door opening behind him. He suffered another pang of guilt as he looked at the mattress that lay on the floor, covered with a yellowed sheet and a ratty blanket. While Nate had bedded down in silk sheets with a mound of down pillows, this was where Kurt had been sleeping.
“I’ve lived like this all my life,” Kurt said from the doorway, naked except for the towel wrapped around his hips. “Doesn’t bother me near as much as it does you.”
Nate nodded, knowing it was true. But it didn’t make him feel any better. The sorriest fact of all was that Nate would be more comfortable tonight than Dante and the girls. The mattress was the only bed-like piece of “furniture” in the apartment, and the others had to make do with the collection of mismatched sofa cushions that were scattered on the living room floor. Nate would have joined them to share in the misery, except this could very well be the last time he and Kurt ever saw each other.
Tomorrow morning, he and Nadia were going to Paxco Headquarters to confront the Chairman with their ultimatum. There were about twelve zillion things that could go wrong, and some of them could happen before Nate and Nadia ever reached the Chairman’s office. Dante had checked the news feeds on his handheld after they’d made their video, and he’d seen that Nate was a wanted man, accused of having kidnapped Agnes Belinski. The chances that he would be spotted and arrested before he got in to see his father were way higher than he would like.
To reduce the risks as much as possible, Nate and Nadia planned to arrive at Headquarters well before business hours. There would be security officers on duty, but between the remnants of Nadia’s knockout gas and the four guns they had between them, Nate figured there was a reasonable chance he and Nadia could get past those guards. Then all they’d have to do was ride the elevator to the top floor—assuming his father hadn’t changed the access code, but Nate saw no reason why he would have. Surely he wouldn’t guess that Nate would be so bold as to march into Paxco Headquarters.
By the time he and Nadia got into the Chairman’s office, someone would have notified the Chairman of their presence, and it would turn into a wait-and-see situation.
Kurt dropped the towel, instantly pulling Nate back into the present. Tomorrow might turn out to be hell, but at least for the few short hours until dawn, he would lose himself in Kurt’s arms and try to forget the rest of the world existed. His heart quickened at the thought. And wouldn’t you know it, when he slipped under the ratty covers and lay on the lumpy mattress, it felt better than the finest bed when Kurt slid in beside him.
Nadia was way too wired—and too uncomfortable—to sleep. She’d never slept on the floor before, and she hoped she’d never have to do it again. The pair of mismatched sofa cushions she was using for her “bed” were woefully thin and harbored the faint scents of smoke and mildew.
Eventually, she gave up the effort, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees. On one side of her, Agnes was fast asleep, her body curled into a protective ball on her nest of cushions. On the other side, Dante sprawled in what looked like total comfort, although he’d only taken one cushion for himself and most of his body lay on the hard floor. Sleep softened some of the harsher angles of his face, making him look warmer and more approachable, despite his Ninja-warrior-black outfit. Nadia wondered what it would feel like to curl up against his body, to let him wrap those powerful arms of his around her.
The temptation to find out was so strong she forced herself to her feet and moved away, tiptoeing to one of the windows on the far side of the room. Turning her back on Dante, she leaned against the sill and peered out.
It wasn’t what you’d call a picturesque view. The bland high-rises of the Basement formed a wall of solid gray that kept visibility to a minimum. The street below was crowded and noisy, despite the fact that it was well after midnight. From above, the Basement-dwellers in their colorful, outlandish regalia looked rather like a group of seedy circus clowns gathering for a block party. Except when she looked more closely, the resemblance to clowns faded. The clothing, both on the men and on the women, was way too revealing, for one thing. And no one seemed to be having any fun, despite the occasional raucous bursts of laughter. Everyone out there was doing business of one sort or another, and their eyes were always searching their surroundings for a hint of danger. Danger one unfortunate man seemed to have found, as three Basement-dwellers descended on him and started beating him. No one paid them any mind, stepping around the altercation without sparing it a glance.
“There but for the grace of God…” Dante whispered, and Nadia swallowed a yelp of surprise.
She put her hand to her chest as if the touch could calm her suddenly racing heart. “You scared me,” she said.
“Sorry,” he murmured, sidling up behind her and putting his arms around her waist.
Her heart thumped for a different reason as Dante’s body pressed up against hers and he nuzzled her neck. It had been a while since he’d shaved, and his whiskers scratched in a way that was surprisingly sexy. She glanced over her shoulder to reassure herself that Agnes was still asleep.
“Behave,” she told Dante breathlessly, as his lips brushed against her skin.
“Why?” he countered. “If tomorrow goes badly, we may never see each other again. You don’t suppose Nate and Bishop are ‘behaving’ in that bedroom, do you?”
Nadia had no desire to speculate about what Nate and Bishop were doing. “But they have a bedroom,” she said, though despite her halfhearted protest, she found herself leaning into his warmth and stretching her neck to give him better access. They had had so little time together, so little opportunity to explore. She’d experienced her first real kiss with Dante, and she very much wanted more. But not when they had an audience, even if that audience was currently asleep. There was no guarantee she’d stay that way. “With a door that closes.”
Dante nipped lightly on her earlobe, and her breath caught in her throat. “There is a second bedroom,” he murmured. “And its door closes, too.” She swallowed hard. “Of course, there’s no bed in it, but we can improvise.”
Nadia shivered and her skin prickled with goose bumps. It was very possible she might die tomorrow. Tonight might be the only chance she ever had.