Chapter 22

Sawyer's parents returned.

The two boys had tried to hash out a a good explanation for her presence, but there wasn't one.

She'd have to stay hidden.

Renee rolled onto her back. Even with the clothing pile, the floor of Zack's closet was too hard. The tiny nook was so cramped, she'd barely manage to doze off before her muscles would protest and awaken her.

And she didn't know when Zack would come back.

Exhaustion tugged her bones. She'd been in this blasted room for the entire day. Sawyer had sent her with his friend the day before. She hadn't slept that night.

In fact, she hadn't slept since they had woken her up.

She shifted her weight.

He could have at least let me have a book, Renee thought. Or terminal access.

Something.

But Zack didn't think she needed any more amusement than any of his other toys. She was an object.

"What the fuck." A muffled shout, deeper in the house. "What did I tell you."

She sighed and buried her head in the clothing. The entire morning and the day before had been full of shouts. A man- she presumed it was Zack's father- had nothing but criticism and anger for his wife.

In a way, it was comforting to know 'regular' humans would treat each other nearly as badly as they treated synthetics.

But not really.

She ignored the rest of the exchange. Most ended with the woman in tears, and it was not as if she could do anything about it.

Renee needed to sleep.

"Get up."

She blinked as the harsh lights flooded into the closet.

"Here." Cloth was shoved into her hands. "Put this on."

She staggered to her feet. Five days in Zack's 'care', with the majority of the time in his goddamn closet, didn't help her coordination in the least.

The boy yanked her to her feet.

Renee glanced at the soft fabric in her hands.

"Where are the pants?"

A smirk formed on his face. "It's long enough."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he'd have me wear just a shirt. Why did you even bother asking?

The synthetic slipped on the loose shirt. It looked like it was one of his undershirts, and was bare inches past her waist.

The collar slipped around her neck before she had a chance to protest.

"Good," said Zack. He wore all black. The tight shirt would have been a tragedy on a male less fit. "We're ready to go."

"Here are the rules for tonight."

They stood outside of a house lit brightly from the inside. The light didn't quite reach the two. Transports stopped every few minutes, dropping off two or three people, then left again.

"-what's going on?" she asked. The cool air was sending chills through her body.

She crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's a party."

Fuck, she thought. God damnit.

"It's a, um, costume party. Halloween." Zack smiled. "I'm a rich guy and you are my synthetic."

"Wow. Clever."

He jerked the leash, forcing her to catch hold of him to keep from falling.

"I thought so, too." he said. "You just reminded me of rule number one: no talking, smartass. The only thing you can say to me is 'yes, sir, ' or 'no, sir.' Got it?"

I've played this game before.

"Hey," he growled. He pulled her close again. She could smell the mouthwash on his breath. "I asked you a question. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Okay. Next rule: you won't tell Sauce about any of this. And you won't tell him what we did while you stayed at my house. For all he knows, you were just cleaning or some shit. Okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then we're ready. Don't mess anything up, and I won't beat the shit out of you."

He led her to the entrance.

A blast of music greeted the two as they entered the home. Clumps of teenagers packed in each room and the sharp tang of alcohol filled the air. Most of the youth wore outfits that Renee presumed were costumes.

"Zack!" A vampire girl- Renee assumed the skintight leather, blood red lipstick, and eye shadow meant vampire- hurried to the two arrivals. "I was waiting for you to get here. What're you, a ninja?"

He frowned. "I'm dressed up, Lindsey. I'm 'rich.'"

"Who's she?"

Zack tugged on the girl's leash, forcing her into the light. "She's my 'synthetic.' Say, 'hello, madam, ' Renee."

"Hello, madam," Renee repeated. She tried to force the fear from the words. They aren't much older than me. This isn't one of Claude's parties.

If Zack isn't going to reveal what I really am, they can't- they wouldn't do anything awful.

Probably.

"-okay?" the girl was asking.

"She's fine," said Zack. "She's just- just really into playing the part." Mild annoyance flashed through his eyes.

"That's ... great." The girl gave Renee a quizzical look and received no response, then turned back to Zack. "You've been here before. Beer's in the main room, Kel brought some new nanos from her dad, and there's the usual shit upstairs."

"Sweet. C'mon, Renee," he tugged her to the congregation.

They all wore costumes. Her t-shirt wasn't even the most revealing; some of the girls wore little more than glorified underwear- to her installed sensibilities, at any rate. The youth were chatting with one another, although a few sat alone- nursing drinks, others blanked out, eyes flickering on nothing real. Terminal use.

None of them looked dangerous.

Be careful. Claude never thought you looked dangerous, did he?

She followed the boy's lead, so intent on memorizing- and assessing- her potential assailants that she almost ran straight into Zack.

He shot her an irritated glance, but continued chatting with the jock in front of him. The other boy wore an outfit similar to Zack's, but it didn't look like a costume.

Renee wished she had a book. Or at least one waiting for her at the house. Sawyer may not have cared what she did with her time, but his friend was a whole different story.

If the teens here didn't know she was a real synthetic, perhaps they wouldn't treat her as such.

She could hope.

The girl scanned the cliques, watching them watch her. The teens either didn't meet her gaze- or they'd give her a little grin and a wave. The smiles stirred some anxiety in her belly, but they weren't threats. Not yet.

A boy dressed as a robot. A girl wearing a swimsuit that covered not nearly enough, especially in the chill outdoors. A sailor. A demon. A ghost.

Each face looked like a copy as the one before. The same body in different costumes. Different hair.

Her disinterested gaze refused to settle.

Sandy hair.

His back was turned, but it was him. The height, the hunch of the shoulders-

Simon.

She didn't even think.

Two quick steps and the leash choked her, bringing her up short.

"What the fuck-?" Both Zack and his conversational partner were staring at her as if she'd turned into a sea creature.

She wasn't paying attention, she was looking at-

He turned.

-at a stranger. Bitter disappointment cut through her.

"You've got her leashed?" asked the other one. His dark hair obscured the raised brow.

Of course it wasn't him. Simon lives with Henry- not at some teenager's house.

Of course.

"It's part of the costume," Zack muttered. "Renee's ... dressed as my synthetic."

His obvious discomfort caught her attention. This guy worries him.

If he worries Zack, he should probably worry me.

But beyond the non-costume costume, he seemed no different than any of the others.

"Not dressed in much, though, is she?" The older one inspected her with a thoroughness that shook her. "Aren't you cold?"

"-" Renee said, then realized- He ordered me to silence. Shit. She turned to Zack, embarrassment and anger coloring her cheeks.

"She's fine," said Zack.

"The girl can't speak for herself? Renee?"

She refused to meet eyes that brimmed with false concern. This guy likes to push people. He would have fit right in with Claude and his crew.

"Uh-" Her owner swallowed once before answering, "She ... she has to listen to me. And I told her not to talk."