“Well, sure. Or I could make a sledgehammer to take to it, if I was feeling destructive. But the helmet is safe. No one’s gotten to it yet, and no one ever will.”
Nova’s pulse quickened, the start of an idea whispering deep in her thoughts.
Chromium sledgehammer?
Would that work? Would a weapon made of the same material be strong enough to destroy the box?
Only if it was made by the Captain himself, she suspected. As her electrolysis experiment had suggested, that box wasn’t made out of normal chromium. Just like the Captain himself, his weapons were … well, extraordinary.
“Are you going to the gala tomorrow night?” asked Simon, and Nova was so lost in her speculations it took her a moment to realize he was asking her.
“Gala?” she said, trying to remember what day it was. “Is that tomorrow already?”
“I had that exact thought a few hours ago,” said Hugh. “We’ve gotten a lot of last-minute sponsors and it’s pulling together to be a nice event. Live music, fully catered. It’ll be fun. Anyway, you have to come. You know, Nova, a lot of the people in the organization are starting to look up to you—the young ones especially. It would mean a lot if you were there.”
Nova forced a close-lipped smile, though her heart was sinking from the implications of his words, and what she had become in the eyes of the Renegades. Someone to admire, to respect, to emulate.
She was Nova McLain. The superhero, and the fraud.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
NOVA REMEMBERED LITTLE ELSE about the conversation over dinner, most of which revolved around the Council’s plans for ongoing community outreach programs. Finally, Hugh and Simon got up from the table and starting loading the dishwasher, moving like a well-rehearsed team. Nova watched them for a minute, unable to fully align this simple domestic chore with the superheroes who had defeated Ace Anarchy.
“So,” started Adrian, pulling her attention back to him. He seemed more relaxed now and she suspected he was relieved that the meal was over. “You probably need to get home?”
She blinked at him and nearly started laughing.
Home.
Right.
Smiling tightly, she said, “How about that movie we never got to?”
Which is how Nova found herself back in Adrian’s den, seated on the worn sofa. The entertainment industry was one that had ground to a halt during the Age of Anarchy and had been slow to get started again in the years since, so Adrian’s entire movie collection consisted of thirty-year-old “classics.” Nova hadn’t seen any of them.
Adrian selected a martial arts film, but it didn’t really matter to Nova what he picked. She wouldn’t be watching it anyway.
Adrian settled down on the couch. Not touching her, but close enough to suggest there could be touching, if she wanted there to be. Or maybe there was no ulterior motive and he just had a favorite spot, a preferred cushion.
Nova chastised her heartbeat for increasing. It almost felt like a stranger had hijacked her body. Someone who had forgotten who she was and where she came from. Or more important, who Adrian was.
This attraction had to stop. She was an Anarchist. She was Nightmare.
What exactly did she think would happen when he found out? Because he would find out eventually. It was inevitable. Once she had the helmet, and that Vitality Charm, and she no longer had to play this game anymore.
Drawing in a stabilizing breath, Nova inched closer to Adrian and settled her head on his shoulder. He tensed, but it was brief. Then he slid his arm around her and she sank against his side. She urged her body not to get comfortable. Not to enjoy his warmth or the subtle strength in that arm, or the smell of pine that might have been soap or aftershave.
This time, her own calculating thoughts were louder than his heartbeat. The ticking clock in her mind was faster than her pulse.
The movie scrolled through the opening credits. A man appeared on the screen trudging through a blizzard. High on a mountain stood a foreboding temple.
Adrian’s hand was resting on his leg. Nova, as casually as she could, started to reach for it. She was moments away from lacing their fingers together when Adrian pulled away, shifting his body so fast that Nova nearly sank into the dip between the cushions.
She straightened.
Adrian had turned to face her, lifting one knee onto the couch. His expression was worried, but his shoulders were set. Nova withdrew from him, her defenses rising like castle walls.
“The gala tomorrow night,” he blurted, the words spoken so fast they blurred into one unwieldy statement.
Nova gaped. “Excuse me?”
“The gala. If you’re going and I’m going and … Would you like to go together? As a date, I mean. Officially, this time.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “I know I wasn’t clear with the whole carnival thing, so I’ll just put it out there from the start. I would like you to be my date. I would really like that a lot, actually…” He paused before adding, somewhat self-consciously, “If you want to.”
Nova’s mouth hung open. Her mind had gone blank and she was trying to formulate a response based on logic and strategy, and what would Ace want her to do, and would this be good for her cause or not, and how would this change anything, but all she could think about was how adorable Adrian was when he was nervous.
And also …
He still likes me.
Despite all the rejected advances, all the awkward silences. She’d been so sure he had moved on after the painful end to their non-date at the carnival, and yet … this. Not just to ask her to be his date, but to look so downright eager about it.
“Okay,” she whispered.
She would figure out the strategy later.
Adrian’s face brightened. “Okay?” With a confirming nod, he settled against the back of the couch again, returning his arm to her shoulders. He exhaled. “Okay.”
Nova settled against him again, and a part of her wanted to be happy, but all she felt was dread.
She was going to get that helmet, and Ace Anarchy would return to power. The Renegades would fall. Society would be responsible for teaching its own children, planting its own vegetables, and they would be stronger for it. Better for it.
And Nova would be stronger and better too.
Soon, she would be done with lying. She would be done with secrets.
And Adrian would be done with her.
On the screen, the man had just entered the temple. His body was silhouetted in the massive doors as the snow gusted around him.
She tried to quiet her thoughts. She tried to reorient herself on what had to be done.
She had come here for the Vitality Charm. The thought crossed her mind that she could just ask Adrian about it, and she knew he would probably loan it to her, especially if she told him she wanted to visit Max.
But, no, if all went well, she would be wearing that charm as Nightmare, not Insomnia, and the fewer clues that connected her to her alter ego, the better.
“Nova?” he said, so quietly she almost thought she imagined it.
She turned her head up.
Adrian held her gaze for all of half a second, before he leaned down and kissed her.
Nova gasped against his mouth, overcome not just with surprise, but also by the current that jolted through every nerve.
Adrian pulled away, worried again. His eyes were a question. His lips an invitation.
Nova’s mouth felt abandoned. The kiss had been too short and already her hands were itching to touch him, her entire body aching to move closer.
Though she knew what she had to do and she knew this was a terrible idea, she reached her hand behind his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers.
The kiss escalated fast. Hesitant curiosity and then, from nowhere, a desperate, unfulfilled need. To be closer. To kiss deeper. To touch his face, his neck, his hair. Adrian’s arms circled her waist and he pulled her across him, turning Nova’s body so she was cocooned in his arms.
&nb
sp; He hissed suddenly and jerked away.
Nova’s eyes snapped open, her heart catapulting into her throat. Adrian’s features were contorted in pain. “Adrian?”
“Nothing,” he said through his teeth, one hand pressing against his side. His face softened again as he peered at her.
“What—”
“Nothing,” he repeated, and then he was kissing her again, and concerns about whatever had hurt him dissolved. Nova was shaking, overwhelmed by so much physical contact all at once. His lips. A hand in her hair, another against her ribs. Her body half draped across his lap, his heartbeat drumming against her chest, and his lips, great skies, his lips …
And still, that voice whispered in the back of her mind, reminding her why she was there despite how she wanted to ignore it.
Adrian’s fingers curled against the back of her head. She was reclined so far now that she felt the arm of the couch beneath her shoulders. Nova squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to believe that this was the whole world. Just Adrian Everhart and every one of his magical touches.
But still, that relentless voice persisted, reminding her that this wasn’t real. This could never be where she belonged. Adrian Everhart was not meant for her and she was certainly not meant for him.
Except—that voice faded into background noise, replaced with the heat from his mouth and the press of his arms, and another, quieter voice made itself known. A voice that could have been trying to catch her attention ever since the first moment she had met Adrian and her heart had lurched at the sight of his open smile.
Why not?
Why couldn’t she belong here? Why couldn’t she have this? She would simply never go back. She would go on pretending to be Nova McLain, Renegade, for the rest of her life. No one would ever have to know. This could be real.
She kissed Adrian harder, and he moaned in response. If she could just hold him tight enough … If she could just make this moment last …
Bang. Bang.
Her eyes shot open. Adrian didn’t seem to notice, his fingers having discovered at that moment the bared skin of her waist. Nova trembled from the sensation, from the overwhelming convergence of too many desires crashing into her all at once.
The quiet voice of dissent was buried fast beneath her rising guilt. No, no, no. To choose Adrian would be to abandon the Anarchists, to abandon Ace.
BANG.
Choosing Adrian would be to abandon any chance of retribution for Evie and her parents.
Nova squeezed her eyes shut, tighter than before, hoping to block out the noise of the gunshots as her purpose became clear again. As she remembered why she was there. Why she was really there.
She had failed her family once when they needed her. She would not do it again.
Nova held herself against Adrian, her fingers gathering fistfuls of his shirt. Tears were building behind her eyelids. She had to do this. She had to.
And if she didn’t do it now, she might forget why.
As her body flamed in Adrian’s hold, Nova released her power into the place where their lips met. It rolled through her, gentle as she could make it. It had been a long time since she’d been kind with her power. Not since putting her sister to sleep all those years ago.
Still, the effect happened just as fast.
Adrian’s fingers loosened from her hair. His arms sagged. His head lolled to one side, breaking the kiss, and his body collapsed across the back of the couch, pinning Nova against the cushions. His breaths, which had been as erratic as hers moments ago, were already slowing.
Nova exhaled.
She stared up at the ceiling, her vision blurred with unshed tears. She spent a moment memorizing the weight of him and the warmth seeping through her clothes. They were tangled together—her knees curled around his hip, his arms trapped beneath her back. Her own fingers were resting on his neck and it was so easy to imagine how perfect this moment would be, if only it were real. Just a girl and a boy, cuddling, stealing kisses, falling asleep in each other’s arms. Everything so simple and uncomplicated.
If only.
She started to extract herself. She moved slowly, even though she knew he wasn’t going to wake up. As she shifted her weight off the couch and slid to the floor, Adrian readjusted himself, sinking into the sofa. The side of his face rubbed against the cushion, knocking his glasses askew.
Nova reached for his temples and pulled the glasses off his face. She folded down the sides and set them on the coffee table, then went and gathered a blanket from his tousled bed. She draped it over him, thinking of how he’d done this same thing while she’d been asleep. Had he paused to inspect her peaceful face, like she was doing now? Had he considered kissing her while she slept, like Nova found herself tempted to do? Her lips were still tingling, having been interrupted before the craving was satisfied.
But Nova knew that Adrian would never steal a kiss from her like that, and neither could she.
Instead, she stood and straightened her clothes, then scanned the room. She couldn’t be sure how much time she had. Using her power gently like that tended to shorten the duration of sleep, and her powers had seemed different lately too. Weakened slightly, ever since she’d been caught in the quarantine with Max.
But she should have an hour at least, maybe two. It would have to be enough.
Where was he keeping that pendant?
She peeked under his bed first, then through the drawers of a small desk, but all she found were old electronics, broken colored pencils, and an entire kit for tattooing, which she figured must be related to yet another one of his artistic endeavors. She flipped through his collection of video games, and through a chest of drawers full of T-shirts and socks and underpants, after which the visual of Adrian in black cotton boxers became nearly impossible to shake from her thoughts.
Cheeks burning, she approached a bookshelf in the corner, where a stack of worn sketchbooks was sandwiched between a collection of comics and a set of Disastrous Duo action figures. As a kid, she had once kept an entire chemistry set inside the carved-out pages of a geographical dictionary, so she figured it was as good a hiding place as any.
She pulled out a stack of sketchbooks and started flipping through them, but one after another, she was met with actual pages of actual books, with actual, amazing drawings on them. Cityscapes and portraits and pages upon pages of odd symbols—a series of tightly wound curls, like springs, and others resembling small flames—but there was no context for what Adrian had been thinking when he drew them. They were followed by some preliminary concept art for the mural in the next room.
Nova slammed the last sketchbook shut and crammed it back onto the shelf.
The medallion was somewhere in this house. It had to be. Adrian wouldn’t have given it—
Her breath caught.
Of course. He would give it away, but only to one person. He had told her as much. We should give it to Simon first.
Huffing, she stepped away from the bookshelf and sneaked around the sofa. She didn’t dare look at Adrian again, afraid the temptation to curl up beside him and forget her task would be too strong to resist a second time.
Squaring her shoulders, she made her way up the stairs.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
NOVA STOPPED TO LISTEN when she reached the foyer. She could still hear dramatic music coming from the movie, and after a long while of standing with her head cocked, she thought she heard a shower running somewhere upstairs.
Squaring her shoulders, she began to climb the oak staircase. The old steps groaned and creaked beneath her.
At the top, a pair of double doors stood to her left. The master bedroom, she assumed. Someone inside was shuffling around, whistling to themselves. Also the direction of the running water, she noted, though the whole house seemed to hum as the water rushed through the pipes.
Opposite the landing was another hallway. Nova slinked forward.
The first door she checked turned out to be a linen closet.
The second broug
ht a smile to her lips.
A home office.
Nova slipped inside, leaving the door open just a crack so she would hear if anyone came down the hall.
She was sure that Simon hadn’t been wearing the Vitality Charm at dinner. If Adrian had given it to him, then maybe it was in their bedroom, or in his office back at headquarters. But she couldn’t very well search either of those places at the moment.
At least, searching their home office might turn up something useful while she waited, hoping the two Councilmen would fall asleep without her assistance.
She approached the large desk, which was overflowing with stacks of papers and files, one of which had toppled over onto a keyboard. Nova grabbed the top file and scanned the label, then the next, making her way through the stacks, searching for anything useful. But these all seemed to be drafts of laws the Council was considering or had already put into effect. Ongoing social projects throughout the city. Plans for future construction. Trade deals with foreign nations.
She turned to the drawers, finding one full of statistics and reports on crime rates of various countries. Near the top of the drawer was a list of the cities around the globe that had Renegade syndicates in operation.
It was a very long list.
Nova set the list aside and turned to a filing cabinet beside the wall. Inside were fat folders outlining plans and blueprints for headquarters and other Renegade-operated properties, from alarm system details to elevator permits. Nothing about the helmet. Nothing about Agent N. But still, it wasn’t bad information to have access to.
She pulled out a few documents to review later and set them beside the list of international syndicates.
She kept searching, though she sensed her luck, and time, were dwindling.
Turning toward the room’s built-in bookcases, she scanned the spines of enormous volumes of legal guides and political manifestos, all published before the Age of Anarchy. On the bottom shelf were a handful of photo albums, and she ignored the curiosity spiked by the chance of seeing adorable kid pictures of Adrian and grabbed a box instead. She pulled off the lid and froze.
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