“Callum.”
He drew up short.
Nova stared at him. “You were manipulating me. I thought … there was a second when I … You can’t just mess around with people’s emotions like that!”
“Ah, common misconception,” he said, unperturbed. “I can’t do anything to people’s emotions. I can only show them their true feelings … or what they would see, if they bothered to look close enough. And when people see the truth—that they really are surrounded by a lot of amazing things—they tend to naturally experience an overwhelming sense of awe. I mean, why wouldn’t you?”
She frowned, not sure if she was buying his explanation. She felt toyed with, like she’d had a moment of blinding clarity, only to discover it was an illusion.
Except now, she wasn’t so sure what was real and what wasn’t.
It was, she had to admit, kind of a neat gift, to bestow a sense of wonder on those around you. It wasn’t flashy, but she suspected he was right. Maybe the world would be different if everyone could see it the way he did.
“Why don’t they have you on patrols?” she said. “With a power like that, you’d be able to defuse a lot of dangerous situations.”
“Eh, not as easily as you might think. People have to take a second to notice the world around them, and when someone’s in the middle of a brawl or committing a crime, they’re not going to stop and smell the hypothetical roses. I can have more of an impact here. Helping other Renegades change their perspective, reminding people what it is we’re trying to accomplish. If we are going to rebuild the world, I’d like it to be built on a foundation of gratitude and appreciation, not greed or pride.”
“If that’s your goal,” said Nova, rubbing her forehead, “then I’m not sure you’re succeeding.”
“It’s a slow process, but I’m patient.”
Nova paced along the edges of the observation deck, sliding her fingers across the rail. She reached the edge of the balcony and paused. Gatlon City was mostly built on a series of slopes that descended toward the bay, and from this angle she could see Ace’s cathedral, situated at the top of a tall hill, the crumbling bell tower jutting above the wasteland.
She could hear Ace’s voice in her head, telling her that sometimes you needed to destroy the old in order to make way for the new.
Progress was often built on sacrifice.
She hated to think of the Renegades having access to something like Agent N, but her reasons weren’t the same as Callum’s. He hated the idea of obliterating the potential of superpowers, but Nova hated the imbalance of power it would cause more than anything. Yes, superpowers could be used to accomplish great things, but they could also be used for cruelty and domination. And the fewer prodigies there were, the more likely those who remained would become all-powerful tyrants.
If it were up to her … if she could change the future of the world … she would make it so there were no superpowers at all. No more heroes. No more villains.
Just humanity, powerless and vulnerable, all struggling through life together.
Something told her Callum wouldn’t agree with that position.
“Why did you bring me up here?” she asked.
It took Callum a moment to answer. When he did, his voice was quiet. “I like you, Nova. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I can tell you’ve been hurt. And you’re still hurting.”
She flinched.
“I know that some prodigies become Renegades because they like the idea of having power,” Callum continued, fixing his gaze on her. “And some want the prestige and the fame. But a lot of us are here because we want to make a difference. We want to change things for the better.” He paused, his gaze slipping to the horizon. “I don’t know what your story is, but I think you want to change things for the better, too. I thought that maybe seeing this would be a good reminder of what we’re all doing here. What it is we’re fighting for.”
Nova studied the city beneath her. It was a good reminder of what she was fighting for.
But Callum was wrong about one thing.
Sometimes, things did have to be destroyed before something better could be built.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“HAVE I MENTIONED that you look ridiculous?” Max whispered, hiding behind Adrian as he peered around the corner.
“Do I?” Adrian looked down at the white hazmat suit. “To be honest, I sort of feel like an astronaut.”
“Well, you look like a walking air mattress.”
Adrian cast a smirk over his shoulder. He could tell Max was nervous. The kid always got irritable when he was nervous. “You ready?”
“No,” Max answered, his brow drawing tight. “This feels like breaking the rules. What if I run into someone? What if I … hurt them?”
“It’s four o’clock in the morning,” said Adrian.
“So, there could be security personnel and late-night patrol units coming and going and sometimes the healers come in early, and you know Nova is always around at weird hours and—”
“Max.” Adrian fixed him with his sternest look. “We just have to get to the elevator. It’s literally”—he estimated the distance—“fifty feet away, and the coast is completely clear. We’re not going to run into anyone.”
“But what if the coast isn’t clear when we’re getting off the elevator? We could be blindsided. Or—we could blindside someone else, I guess, would be more accurate—”
“No one’s getting blindsided. We’ve got the floor staked out, with blockades on the stairwells. It’s going to be fine.”
“What would Hugh and Simon say?”
The corners of Adrian’s mouth twitched, but not wanting to give away the surprise, he only said, “I’m fairly sure they would understand.”
Adrian fidgeted with one of the chromium cuffs on his wrist. He wanted to reach out and rumple Max’s hair—he had quickly grown accustomed to being able to show outward affection—but the thick gloves prevented it. It was doubly frustrating given that he didn’t believe he needed the hazmat suit. He had the tattoo now. He should be able to get close to Max without any trouble.
But the tattoos were still a secret that needed to be kept, and the last thing he wanted was for certain people to start asking questions about them. So, for now, the hazmat suit would have to do.
“Come on,” he said, opening the quarantine door.
With worried eyes, Max started to follow Adrian, but then paused. Turbo was gnawing on the strap of his sandals. “No. Stay here, Turbo,” he said, nudging the creature back toward the miniature shore of the bay.
Adrian checked each direction one more time, and ushered Max through. Turbo didn’t follow, just cocked his head and watched them go for a second, before skittering off toward his food bowl. The creature ate so much, Adrian was beginning to think they should have named him Oscar, Jr.
Their shoes thumped on the sky bridge as they passed over the lobby. Adrian could see the security booth inside the main entrance. The personnel had been given clear instructions, though, and no one called out to stop them as they made their way toward the elevator bank.
“That’s all they’ve talked about today,” said Max.
“Hm?”
Max pointed and Adrian followed the gesture toward one of the television monitors hung around the lobby. A news story was playing, and though the sound was muted, an icon of a pill bottle over the news anchor’s shoulder gave away the story.
A fourteen-year-old girl had died of a drug overdose two nights ago, a result of the illegal substance that was pervading the city’s drug market. The drug that was concocted, in part, from medications like those Hawthorn had stolen from the hospital. It was the eighth overdose that week. In addition to the rampant drug usage, the growing popularity of the substance was also being linked to increases in street violence, trafficking, and prostitution.
Perhaps most troubling was that the Renegades had done little to counter the growing epidemic of drug abuse or the flourishing black market. I
f anything, they seemed at a loss as to how to fight an enemy that couldn’t be knocked out with punches and laser beams.
On the screen, the most recent victim’s family was being interviewed, their eyes swollen with mourning. Adrian turned away and jabbed the elevator button. There was no way for him to know if the drugs that took that girl’s life had been developed from the same drugs Hawthorn had stolen, but he couldn’t help feeling the weight of his failure.
The elevator arrived, and they both shuffled in. He could feel Max’s anxiety every time the boy glanced up at the camera on the ceiling or the numbers above the door. His nervousness seemed to increase as the elevator rose. One foot was tapping rapidly against the floor. One hand kept brushing back an imaginary lock of hair from his forehead. He kept pursing his lips and shaking out his hands in an attempt to calm himself.
“I know this is weird for you,” said Adrian, his breath fogging up the inside of the suit’s face shield in a way that reminded him vaguely of being inside the Sentinel’s armor. “But it’s really not as risky as it seems. I swear. I wouldn’t do anything to put you in danger—or any of the Renegades.”
“But where are we going?” asked Max with a slight whine in his voice.
“Floor thirty-nine.” Adrian gestured at the highlighted button.
Max glowered at him. “And what’s on floor thirty-nine?”
Adrian’s secretive smile returned, unbidden, and Max scoffed in annoyance.
The elevator reached the floor and the doors parted. Adrian gestured for Max to go first and the kid crept out uncertainly, but paused on the landing.
“Hey … Dad?”
Hugh stood a few dozen paces in front of the elevator. “Hello, Max.”
Max glanced back at Adrian, eyes round with panic, but Adrian was already grinning. “I told you they would understand.” He poked Max between the shoulder blades, urging him into the vast open space.
The thirty-ninth floor was one of the many floors of headquarters that were vacant, waiting to be filled with cubicles or VR rooms or an expanded call center or medical rooms or laboratories … whatever they needed as the organization grew. But for now, it was just a plain concrete floor, exposed ceiling pipes, and row after row of support columns spanning from one end of the building to the other.
Empty but for Hugh Everhart, Adrian, and Max.
“I’m … not in trouble?” Max said, hesitantly approaching their father. “For leaving the quarantine?”
“No, you’re not in trouble.” Hugh’s face got stern. “We can’t go around making a habit of it, but it was easy enough to secure a space for one night. This is, after all, a special occasion.”
“It is?” said Max.
Hugh nodded. His focus turned to the wall behind Max and Adrian and there was a hint of concern, but also hope. “Assuming it worked?”
Max turned around and Simon flickered out of invisibility. Max gasped, then smacked Adrian on the arm. “You should have told me.”
Simon was standing beside the elevator, the Vitality Charm around his neck. He would have been close enough to touch Max’s shoulder as they’d walked by.
“I … don’t feel any different,” said Simon. He was tense, which wasn’t like him.
For a long second, no one moved. Simon was standing only five or six paces away from Max, close enough that he should have felt the effects of Max’s power immediately. He would feel weak, first, and then the draining away of his abilities. When it had happened to Adrian, he had felt it most in his hands. His fingers had gone numb, threatening to never be able to bring his drawings to life again. He wasn’t sure what the Dread Warden would feel. Vulnerable? Exposed?
“Anything?” said Hugh.
Simon shook his head. “I feel normal.” He vanished, his whole body disappearing like a light being turned off.
Max grabbed Adrian’s forearm and squeezed. The suit hissed around the cuffs.
Simon appeared a second later, a couple of steps closer and beaming. He reached for the medallion around his neck. “It’s working.” He laughed. “Adrian, this is incredible. Max, I—”
Before he could finish, Max launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Simon’s waist.
Simon’s face crumpled with the unexpected embrace, and he bent forward, locking his arms around Max’s shoulder.
“Does this mean I can kick your butt at cards too, now?” Max said into Simon’s shirt.
Simon chuckled. “You’ll be disappointed to know that I am a much better card player than he is.”
Hugh cleared his throat, dragging Adrian’s attention toward him. He jerked his head to the side, indicating for Adrian to follow him. “Let’s give them a minute.”
Adrian’s cheeks were beginning to hurt from his grin, but he couldn’t smother it as they made their way across the dusty floor.
“Simon’s right,” Hugh said, keeping his voice low to avoid an echo. “The Vitality Charm is amazing, and I’m mortified to know it’s been sitting in our vault all this time and neither of us knew about it. Max’s life could have been so different…” His voice trembled, but he covered it up with another clearing of his throat.
“Better late than never,” said Adrian. “I’m glad I found it when I did.”
“Me too. And we’re going to assign some people to look more closely at the objects we have in the collection, see what other things of value might have been missed.”
“You should talk to Nova about it,” said Adrian. “She’s been really invested in her artifacts work lately.”
“I will,” said Hugh. “It will be fascinating for us all to hear what else we might have been neglecting down there.”
Once they reached the far wall of windows, Adrian checked the distance between them and Max and unlatched the face shield. Hugh tensed as he watched Adrian pull off the hood, but Adrian flashed him a grin. “We’re far enough away.”
When Adrian showed no sign of having his powers drained, Hugh conceded with a nod. “Listen, Adrian, there’s something I thought you should know. Sooner than later.”
Adrian’s eyebrow shot upward. “Oh?”
“There’s been a breakthrough in the Hawthorn case.”
Adrian stood straighter. “What? When?”
“Early yesterday morning. After … that unfortunate fatality.”
“The girl that overdosed?”
“Yes. We told Hawthorn’s allies that if we’re able to trace the drugs she bought to the ones that were stolen, they could be charged with aiding in involuntary manslaughter. One of them started talking. Gave us a few leads on where Hawthorn might be hiding out.”
“That’s great,” said Adrian. “I’ll notify my team immediately. We can…” He trailed off as Hugh started to shake his head. Adrian’s enthusiasm waned. “You’re not giving us the case, are you?”
“We’ve already put Clark’s team on it.”
It felt like being punched in the stomach. Adrian groaned. “Frostbite? Seriously?”
“I know you don’t get along with her, and I don’t blame you. They’re … a frosty bunch.” Hugh quirked a grin at his pun. Adrian did not return it. “But they’re a good team, one of the most effective we have. I trust them to handle it.”
Adrian scowled, knowing it made him look like a petulant child. He was tempted to say that the only reason Frostbite brought in so many criminals was because her team didn’t play by the code—he’d witnessed as much when he’d seen them bullying the Anarchists in the subway tunnels and trying to frame them with a false confession.
But he resisted the urge, not only because he had no evidence of Frostbite’s transgressions, but also because he felt the shame of his own hypocrisy. The Sentinel didn’t follow the code either, and it was a part of the reason that he, like Frostbite’s team, was so good at bringing criminals to justice. Catching bad guys was easy when you didn’t have to deal with the inconvenience of evidence and trials.
Maybe that was part of why he disliked Genissa Clark so much. Ma
ybe he was jealous that she could get away with what she did, whereas he was treated like a pest to be eradicated.
“I wanted you to hear it from me, before word gets around,” said Hugh. “This choice isn’t because we don’t trust you and the others, Adrian. But this is a high-profile case, as you know, and—”
“You need the best,” Adrian muttered.
Hugh frowned, but didn’t disagree.
Adrian sighed. “The important thing is that Hawthorn is caught and brought to justice. It doesn’t matter who brings her in. After all”—he glanced back at Simon, remembering what he had been told after the hospital heist—“there is no I in hero.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
IT WAS NEAR DAWN by the time Adrian got home and trudged down the stairs into his bedroom. He knew he shouldn’t be so cranky after the night they’d had. After he managed to give Max something he had given up on wanting—quality time with Simon, and soon, quality time with his friends too. After his dads gave the okay for Adrian to tell people about the medallion, at least.
But all of Max’s joy couldn’t overcome Adrian’s irritation, to know that Frostbite’s team—of all the patrol units in the whole organization—had been chosen to go after Hawthorn. His jaw ached from grinding his teeth all the way home.
Pacing back and forth across his worn carpet, he held up his wristband. He had finally turned off the notifications from the call center, removing some of the temptation to put the Sentinel’s suit back on. He was trying to trust the system, to put his faith in the code, just like his dads wanted him to. He was trying to give the Renegades the benefit of the doubt—to believe that they were enough to protect the city, to bring justice to the wrongdoers of their world.
But today, he couldn’t resist.
He pulled up the map of the city and did a quick search for Frostbite.
His jaw clenched as a small signal blinked on the map. She was on active duty, moving down Raikes Avenue. As he watched, she turned north on Scatter Creek Row, moving fast, so she had to be in a patrol car.
He tried to puzzle out her destination based on the direction she was heading. Maybe Hawthorn was camped out in an old boathouse by the docks, or in one of the warehouses near the port, or in an abandoned train car by the defunct tracks.
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