Resistance (Replica) (2 page)

Nadia swallowed a lump of dread that formed in her throat when she looked over her shoulder and saw the gates closing behind her.

“One week,” she murmured to herself under her breath. “Two at most.”

The reminder would have been more comforting if Nadia could actually
believe
it. Her parents might think of her stay here as something harmless and temporary, but when Chairman Hayes found out, Nadia was sure he would do his utmost to ensure that the retreat served as a permanent solution to his problem. After all, what damage could Nadia do to him when she was to all intents and purposes imprisoned, allowed no contact with the outside world?

The grounds the limo wended its way through were lovely, as advertised. Flowerbeds bursting with out-of-season blooms lined the driveway and surrounded white gravel walking paths. In the relatively short drive from the gate to the front drive, Nadia saw no fewer than three pristine white gazebos and two artfully placed ponds, one with water lilies, one without. No doubt the decorative gardens and paths continued all the way around the building.

Tranquility’s main building was a modern reinterpretation of a classic Gothic mansion. It had all the turrets, peaks, and gables associated with the Gothic style, but they were fashioned of steel and glass rather than stone and wood. The effect might have been cold and sterile, if it weren’t for the profusion of flowers growing on trellises and in window boxes. In her present state of mind, Nadia couldn’t quite persuade herself to think of the place as inviting, but it was at least making an effort.

As the limo pulled up to the curb at the front entrance, a woman in khaki trousers and a powder-blue shirt adorned with the Tranquility logo exited the building and descended the short set of stone steps, smiling brightly in Nadia’s general direction, though of course she couldn’t see through the tinted windows.

“Here we are, Miss,” the driver said unnecessarily as he put the limo in park. No doubt he was preparing to get out and open Nadia’s door for her, but the woman beat him to it.

“Thank you,” Nadia said to the driver, feeling awkward. Ordinarily, she would tip him after such a long drive, but her mother had insisted she couldn’t bring a purse. He touched the brim of his hat and nodded.

“You must be Nadia,” the woman said, her smile so wide and bright it made Nadia’s cheeks ache in sympathy. “My name is Marigold, but you can call me Mari. Welcome to Tranquility!”

“Um, thanks,” Nadia said, for lack of a better response. She wanted to yell at her driver to hit the accelerator and get her out of here, but that wasn’t an option, so she reluctantly climbed out of the car.

“You’re going to have a wonderful time here,” Mari gushed, taking Nadia’s arm and steering her up the steps.

Nadia sincerely doubted that, and she couldn’t help casting a longing glance over her shoulder as the limo drove away. She was now officially stuck here until her parents chose to send for her.

If Mari noticed Nadia’s melancholy, she chose to ignore it. “Let’s get you checked in, and then I’ll show you around and help you get oriented.”

Mari led Nadia to an elegant locker room, decorated with brass and marble and more of the ubiquitous flowers. Several of the lockers had electronic key cards sticking out of them, and Mari opened one of those for Nadia, handing the card to her.

“You can change out of your street clothes here,” Mari said cheerfully. She pointed into the locker. “You can choose a robe, or a pants and tunic combo, whichever you prefer. Everything’s your size and super comfortable.”

“You mean I’m not even allowed to wear my own clothes?” Nadia asked in dismay. She hadn’t thought through exactly what it meant that she hadn’t been allowed to bring luggage.

Mari’s smile didn’t dim. “The goal here at Tranquility is for our guests to leave the outside world behind entirely. You don’t have to dress to impress here. You just have to be comfortable.”

Nadia crossed her arms over her chest. She’d hardly call her casual pants and knit top “dressing to impress,” although, of course, they were of the highest quality and custom-made by a top designer. “I’m perfectly comfortable dressed the way I am.”

She’d kind of hoped her obstinacy would crack Mari’s maniacally cheerful demeanor, but it didn’t. “Trust me, your spa wardrobe will be even more comfortable. Once you put it on, you’ll never want to take it off.”

In the past, Nadia had always been dutiful and obedient, as befitted an Executive girl. A girl in her position, slated to marry the Chairman Heir while still not old enough to make a legally binding agreement, couldn’t afford to set a foot wrong, and she’d had that drilled into her head for as long as she could remember. Not that long ago, she would have done as she was told without protest, but she was tired of doing what she was told. Being dutiful and obedient hadn’t stopped her from being embroiled in this awful mess.

“I prefer to wear my own clothes,” she said, putting all the stubbornness in her core into the words.

For the first time, Mari’s smile faltered just a little. Her facial expression didn’t change much, but her eyes were somehow a shade less warm.

“You will not be allowed into the facilities in street clothes,” Mari explained patiently. “Proper attire is required if you want to use the pool, the spa, the gym, or any of our dining facilities. You’ll miss out on all the features that make a stay at Tranquility relaxing and enjoyable.”

Nadia couldn’t care less about the recreational opportunities she might be missing out on. However … “Are you telling me I can’t get any food if I’m wearing my own clothes?”

“You will not be permitted into the dining hall or into the cafes if you aren’t properly dressed, and I’m afraid we don’t provide room service.” A sharp edge had entered her voice, and Nadia knew she was well on her way to making an enemy.

Giving in was harder than she’d thought it would be, but in the end, Nadia knew she had no choice. If her stay here were only going to be a day or two, she might have gone hungry just on principle, but she couldn’t hold out for a week. She refused to contemplate the possibility that it might be longer.

“Fine,” she said with a frustrated huff. “I’ll change clothes.”

“A good choice,” Mari commented smugly. “I’ll wait outside while you change. You can put your street clothes in the locker for the duration of your stay. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll give you the tour, then show you to your room.”

Nadia couldn’t manage a gracious response, so she settled for saying nothing.

*   *   *

Nadia
drew the line at changing into Tranquility underwear. She donned the powder-blue tunic and pants, which, as promised, fit her perfectly. Fearing Mari might check and notice that the undies were still in the locker in their sterile plastic packaging, Nadia unwrapped them and stuck them in the generous pocket of her pants. The bra made an odd-looking lump, but she hoped the tunic would hide it sufficiently.

Closing the locker, Nadia rested her forehead against the cool metal, trying to compose herself before she had to face the smiling demon again. There was a part of her that couldn’t believe this was really happening to her. She’d always believed that Executives who were forced to hide away in retreats had brought it on themselves, had scorned them for their lack of self-control or social skills. She’d suffered from the quaint delusion that at least some part of her future was under her control. Now she knew how wrong she had been. About everything.

Fighting off her sense of impending doom, Nadia let Mari know she was ready, and they began their tour.

If Nadia had checked herself into the place voluntarily, she might have found the Tranquility Retreat appealing. The grounds truly were beautiful, and the array of spa services available was almost dizzying. She could spend all day every day being shamelessly pampered, without a duty in the world. She could take a dip in the heated pool, steam her pores in the sauna, take yoga and aerobics classes, or just sit around doing nothing. She could eat in the grand dining hall, or at one of a handful of smaller outdoor cafes with lovely views and impressive menus. There were movies every night—shown from disc, naturally, rather than streamed from the net—and an impressive library brimming with books. But whereas many of the guests at Tranquility probably enjoyed being completely cut off from the outside world, Nadia already felt like she was suffocating.

The main building housed the administrative offices, the guest rooms, the library, and the dining hall. Another building about fifty yards away housed the spa and the entertainment center. There were two other buildings that Nadia could see as Mari dragged her along for what felt like an endless tour. Those buildings were much more utilitarian in form, plain rectangles with regularly spaced windows and only a few embellishments here and there. They were also a considerable distance away, and Mari ignored them as if they didn’t exist. Nadia suspected those were the psych and rehab facilities, where the “guests” were literally prisoners, unable to leave of their own free will.

“What are those buildings?” Nadia asked as Mari led her back to the main building at the end of the tour. Although she’d already guessed for herself, she was curious what Mari would say.

Mari kept smiling away, nauseatingly chipper. “Those are for our guests who require extra care,” she said breezily. “Everything you need will be in the main building or the spa, so the extra-care facilities aren’t included in the tour.”

“Could I go there if I wanted to?”

Mari looked at her as if she might be going nuts. “You could go to the lobby during visiting hours, if you wanted to, but there’s nothing of particular interest to see. Unless you know someone who is staying there?”

Nadia shook her head. The only person Nadia knew who’d spent any time in a retreat was Nate’s mother, and she barely remembered the woman. Nadia had been only six when Eleanor Hayes had entered an upstate retreat as a permanent resident. The Chairman Spouse had not been seen in public since, nor had she communicated in any way with Nate—or anyone else in the outside world that Nadia knew of.

“Speaking of visiting hours,” Mari continued, “they are Wednesdays from five
P.M
. to eight
P.M
., and Sundays from noon to three. You’ll be eligible for visitors after you’ve been with us for five nights, although we encourage friends and family to give our guests at least two weeks of complete peace before visiting.”

Mari beamed, as if the idea of being completely cut off from friends and family for two weeks were her idea of pure bliss. It took everything Nadia had to keep the barrage of scathing remarks that came to her mind from spilling out of her mouth.

CHAPTER TWO

Nate
awakened from a deep, exhausted sleep to a bedroom that was still dark. The first hints of feeble light peeked around the edges of his curtains, but Nate wasn’t an early riser under the best of circumstances, and after the day he’d had yesterday, he was sure he could sleep for a week. He groaned and let his eyes blink shut for a moment before his sleep-fogged mind remembered that
something
had woken him up. A change of pressure, and the soft squeak of mattress springs.

Nate was lying facedown on top of the covers, having fallen into bed last night without even bothering to get undressed. The aftermath of Nadia’s arrest and their subsequent standoff with his father was draining the life out of him, and he fantasized about banning all reporters from the planet. They’d been after him all his life, but they were positively
hounding
him now. His neck was stiff as hell from lying in one position too long, but he slowly and painfully cranked it around to the other side.

Without the light on, Nate could only see a shadowy form sitting on the bed beside him, but something deeper than his conscious mind knew exactly who it was, as impossible as it might be.

“Kurt?” he asked in a hoarse croak, blinking a few times to try to force his boyfriend’s features to come clear.

Kurt reached out and brushed away a lock of hair that was plastered to the side of Nate’s face, a gentle, familiar touch that immediately made Nate’s heart—and other parts of him—ache with longing.

“You look like shit,” Kurt said with a shake of his now-bald head. “Your new valet allowed you to go to bed with your clothes on?”

Nate let out a soft snort. The idea that a valet could “let” the Chairman Heir do anything was laughable, though he had to admit, if Kurt had still held the position, he would have undressed Nate by force, if necessary. He was the bossiest valet Nate had ever met. And he was irreplaceable.

“I didn’t hire a new valet,” Nate admitted. He sat up slowly, wincing from the lingering effects of the beating he’d taken a few days ago. A beating that Kurt had ordered, though he’d paradoxically done it in an attempt to protect Nate. “What are you doing here? And how did you get in? Please tell me nobody saw you.”

The deal Nadia had negotiated with the Chairman had included complete amnesty for Kurt, but Nate didn’t trust it. When Kurt had been accused of murdering the original Nate Hayes, Nate—who, though he was a Replica, had all the knowledge and memories and feelings of his original—had made it dangerously clear to his father how much Kurt meant to him. If the Chairman could find a way to hurt Nate through Kurt, he’d do it in a heartbeat. The old man was a vindictive son of a bitch, and he wouldn’t forgive Nate and Nadia for having won their battle of wills.

“How did I get in?” Kurt asked with an exasperated expression Nate could make out even in the darkness. “Do you really have to ask me that?”

Before he’d become Nate’s valet, Kurt had been a Basement-dweller. Basement-dwellers learned thievery, breaking and entering, and drug dealing when respectable citizens were learning reading and arithmetic. Breaking and entering when he already had a key to Nate’s apartment and knew exactly where guards and security cameras were located probably hadn’t been much of a challenge. Not to mention that the two of them had made a habit of sneaking in and out together for forbidden jaunts to the Basement.