Revolution (Replica) by Jenna Black Page B

first sign of trouble. But Nate had already seen what a different person she became when under fire, and he shouldn’t have been surprised that she improvised a new plan in the blink of an eye.
    When the officers started looking her over, Agnes affected a sexy pout and stuck out her chest to make the most of her modest assets.
    “I gotta date for the next hour,” she said, running her hand seductively over Nate’s chest, “but I’m sure I can fit you boys in afterward if you want.”
    She had put an unfamiliar rasp into her voice and lowered it by about an octave. Usually, she sounded like a little girl, but tonight she sounded like a world-weary adult with a serious smoking habit. She made a face that was probably supposed to look like a leer, but looked more like a grimace of fear to Nate’s eyes.
    Good thing for them Nate wasn’t the one she had to convince.
    Captain Tight-ass gave Agnes an icy glare as he shouted up the stairwell. “Next whore that propositions me or my men is gonna get more than she bargained for!”
    And then he dismissed both Nate and Agnes from his attention and ordered his men up the steps.
    *   *   *
    Nate was almost giddy with relief over their narrow escape from the security squad, but they were still in deep trouble and they all knew it. Kurt no doubt had money hidden somewhere in that apartment of his, but Nate didn’t know where and hadn’t had time to search for it. Which meant the three of them were completely broke, no dollars, no credits, nothing. Being broke in the Basement was all kinds of dangerous.
    After the brave show she’d put on in the stairwell, Agnes had lost some of her starch, and she clung to Nate’s hand as he led the way to Angel’s. The streets were getting progressively more crowded, and he prayed Agnes’s case of nerves didn’t attract any predators. Vulnerability was quite an aphrodisiac to a certain kind of Basement-dweller, and though Nate knew Agnes was trying her best to hide hers, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. At least they were on the Basement’s outer edges, which were safe and tame in comparison to the neighborhoods at its heart.
    By the time they reached Angel’s, they’d been solicited by prostitutes of both sexes, drug dealers, black marketeers, and sundry others who were too stoned to make it clear what they were offering. Nate also had the feeling that they were being followed, though perhaps that was just paranoia. He looked over his shoulder a couple of times, but no one stood out. Or, considering this was the Basement, it might be more accurate to say that everyone stood out equally.
    “We have a tail,” Dante said, and Nate kind of wished he’d voiced his own suspicion. Then he mentally rolled his eyes at himself for his constant need to play games of one-upmanship with Dante. Especially since he always came out the loser. He resisted the urge to take another look back over his shoulder.
    “Is it security?” Agnes asked, biting her lip.
    Dante shook his head. “Don’t think so. There are undercover agents in the Basement, but if this guy were one of them he’d have sicced the squad on us.”
    “Maybe he couldn’t,” Nate suggested. “No phone service, remember?”
    “They’ll have walkies. Everyone knows phone service is unreliable here.”
    Nate didn’t know what a “walkie” was, but he wasn’t going to reveal his ignorance by asking. The security department wasn’t the military, but it was pretty clear Dante had had some kind of military training before he’d joined up as a spy, and he liked to lord it over Nate in this sneaky kind of way.
    Nate took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to let his irritation with Dante seep out with it. He should have been grateful for Dante’s skills and competence. Especially when his physique advertised them so plainly—Nate was sure some of the people who’d solicited them would have been more aggressive about it if Dante weren’t imposing enough