Archenemies (Renegades #2)(133)

The night had been long for them both.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “How is your uncle?”

Her heart squeezed.

Captured. Imprisoned. Gone.

But then she remembered the excuse she’d given Adrian when she was leaving the gala—that her uncle hadn’t been feeling well and she needed to go check on him.

“Fine,” she stammered. “He’s fine.”

Adrian was silent for a long time. His gaze was fixed on her across the room and Nova couldn’t tell what the look meant. Was he inspecting her for the truth? Searching for signs of Nightmare?

“Have you heard?” Adrian said. “About … Ace Anarchy? And Nightmare?”

She shivered. “I was just checking my messages. It’s true then?”

He nodded. Folding his hands, he bent over his knees, peering at the cracked linoleum floor. “Yeah, it’s all true. We got Ace, but she got away, and … she took the helmet.” A wry laugh fell from him. “I should have listened to you, Nova. We all should have listened to you. You tried to tell us that it wasn’t secure, but my dads … we were so arrogant about it. And now … now it’s with them.”

Nova dug her fingers into her own thigh to keep from looking back over her shoulder. Toward the closet.

“But we have Ace Anarchy,” said Adrian. “That’s something.” He lifted his head, staring blankly at the wall. “Ruby and Oscar were there when the Council came to collect him. They said they’re already planning to have him neutralized, publicly, when they reveal Agent N to the world. He’ll be their shining example of how necessary Agent N is, and what it can do.”

“When?” Nova whispered. “When will that happen?”

“I don’t know. I doubt they’ll wait long.”

His chin started to quiver, startling Nova. “Did you hear … do you know about Max?”

His voice broke and Nova’s blood ran cold. She saw Max again, the ice spear puncturing his skin, the blood coating the floor.

He was dead. He was dead. He was dead.

And it was her fault, at least in part. Her fault.

“No,” she breathed, not wanting to hear him say it. Not wanting to know the truth.

Adrian extended his arms and Nova couldn’t resist the pull of them. She went to him and he wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face into her stomach. Tears pricked at Nova’s eyes and though her body tried to rebel at the intimacy of the touch, she couldn’t stop the impulse to cradle his head and shoulders, to hold him closer.

“He’s in the hospital,” he said, as the tears started in force. “She tried to kill him. Nightmare tried to kill him.”

Hospital.

Tried.

“Is he…”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. But he has to live. He has to be okay. If anything happens to him…” His words dissolved. Nova held him, feeling the damp tears through her shirt, the trembling of his shoulders under her fingers.

“He’ll be all right,” she said, willing herself to believe it too. “It’ll be okay.”

“I’m going to destroy her. I’m going to find Nightmare, and I’m going to destroy her.” He curled his fingers into the back of Nova’s shirt, gathering the material into his fists. “Nova … will you help me?”

Grimacing, Nova turned her head toward the front room. Through the doorway, she saw the edge of the coat closet. The dingy wood trim around the doorjamb. The carpet worn nearly to the floorboards beneath.

“Yes, of course I will,” she heard herself say as she stared into the empty eyes of Ace Anarchy’s helmet, glinting at her from the shadows.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ONE OF THE THEMES that really started to emerge in this book as I was revising it through multiple drafts is that most things in life are made better when you can enjoy them in the company of people you love. Writing a book is no different. Just like there is no I in hero, there is no I in book! I am eternally grateful to have so many people in my life who have helped guide and support me during this journey.

The first person I must thank is my editor, Liz Szabla, who saw the possibilities in Nova and Adrian’s story even before I did, and pushed me to delve deeper into this world and its characters. This book and trilogy are so much more now thanks to your encouragement and vision. (Literally … it is, like, hundreds of pages more!) And of course, I appreciate all the hard work of everyone on Team Meyer at Macmillan Children’s: Jean, Mary, Jo, Mariel, Allison, Rich, Caitlin, as well as my wonderful copyeditor, Anne Heausler, and so many others who work behind the scenes to help bring this and countless other books into the world. I am so lucky to have you all in my court.

To my fabulous agency team—Jill, Cheryl, Katelyn, and Denise—who are not only advocates, counselors, and cheerleaders, but also really great friends. I can’t begin to express how happy I am to know and work with you.

Thank you to my intrepid beta reader, Tamara Moss, whose thoughtful critiques are appreciated almost as much as nearly twenty years of friendship and camaraderie. You make me a better writer, and for that, I cannot say thank you enough.

Thank you to Joanne Levy, my professional assistant, for a million different things. I don’t know how I ever made my deadlines without you!