Archenemies (Renegades #2)(35)

Magpie. A Renegade, and a thief, though the rest of the organization seemed willing to overlook that character flaw.

Nova wrapped a hand around the bracelet her father had made when she was a child—the last of his creations before he’d been murdered. Magpie had tried to steal it during the Renegade Parade. She would have gotten away with it, too, if Adrian hadn’t seen it happen.

Nova still shivered when she thought of how Adrian had taken her wrist and redrawn the clasp on her skin.

Magpie froze when she saw Nova, and her flush of dislike must have mirrored Nova’s exactly. The girl was carrying a small plastic bin, which she hefted over to Nova’s desk and dropped to the floor with a loud thunk.

“Have fun,” she said, scowling. She turned on her heel to head back to the elevator.

“Hold on.” Nova pushed herself out of the chair and rounded the desk. “What is this?”

Magpie let out a melodramatic sigh, complete with drooping shoulders and rolling eyes. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

Nova’s jaw clenched. Crouching, she peeled the lid off the bin. Inside she saw what appeared to be a lot of junk. A corkscrew. A metal ashtray. A stack of tattered postcards featuring photos of Gatlon City, pre–Age of Anarchy.

“I’m on cleanup duty,” said Magpie, fisting her hands on her hips. “You know, after your patrol buddies make an enormous mess of things—again—they send us in to put things back together and scavenge anything useful.” She nudged the bin with her toe. “Here’s our latest findings. So you can catalog them, or whatever it is you do. It’s a bunch of rubbish in this haul, if you ask me.”

“Not surprising,” said Nova, “given that anything you find of value is more likely to end up in your pockets than the Renegade system, right?”

Magpie returned her glare and they stood in mutual hate-filled silence for a moment, before the girl heaved another sigh of exasperation. “Whatever. I did my job. You do yours.” She pivoted away.

Nova picked a doll off the top of the heap, and her attention caught on something metallic. “Wait,” she said, reaching for it. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the piece of curved metal and she pulled it from the bin.

Her pulse skipped.

It was Nightmare’s mask. Her mask.





CHAPTER TWELVE

“WHERE DID YOU get this?” said Nova.

Magpie pressed the elevator call button, then slowly turned around, her expression rife with disinterest. “Where do you think?” she said, with barely a glimpse at the mask. “Pulled it out of the rubble at Cosmopolis Park. You were there that day, weren’t you?” She crossed her arms. “Superiors thought it should be filed away, but I don’t care if you throw it in the trash. It’s just a piece of banged-up aluminum. Even I could make one if I wanted to.”

Nova’s fingers curled defensively. “That was a long time ago. Why are you just bringing it in now?”

Magpie lifted an impetuous eyebrow. “Because for the last month we’ve been digging through all the junk down in the subway tunnels left behind by those pathetic Anarchists. I deserve a medal for how much of their trash I’ve had to sift through. Nothing of value and absolutely nothing to help the investigation. A waste of time—that and the funhouse. But”—she lifted her hands—“what’s it to me? I’m just a laborer.”

“Did you find anything else … interesting?”

“What, like body parts? My abilities don’t translate to human flesh.”

“And … nothing from the tunnels either?”

The elevator dinged and Magpie turned away. “You’re the one who has to catalog it all, right? I guess you’ll find out.”

Nova glowered. She stood, still clutching the mask. “How do your powers work, anyway? Are you, like, a walking metal detector? Or a magnet? Or what?”

The doors opened, revealing a lanky boy with shaggy brown hair and a spattering of freckles. His face lit up when he spotted Magpie.

“Maggie Jo, say it ain’t so! Bring us some new treasures today?” He went to give her a fist bump, but it was ignored as Magpie brushed past him into the elevator.

“That’s not my name,” she spat, jamming her thumb into one of the floor buttons. “And my powers,” she said, returning her glare to Nova, “are none of your business.”

The boy stepped back as the elevator shut.

Using his distraction, Nova tucked the metal mask into the back of her waistband. Anything that wasn’t in the database had never been received, right?

“That kid needs to lighten up,” the boy said, spinning toward Nova. “She does bring in cool stuff, though. Once dredged up an antique music box from the bottom of Harrow Bay. It didn’t have any special powers, but still, how cool is that?” His grin brightened. “You must be the infamous Insomnia.” He practically skipped to her side and thrust one palm toward her. “Callum Treadwell. A fine pleasure.”

“Nova,” she said, shaking his hand. “Tina said you’d be able to show me around?”

“I can, indeed.” Callum picked up the plastic bin and tucked it behind the desk. “We have some of the coolest stuff here. You’re gonna love it. Come on.”

He marched toward the filing room without checking to see if Nova was behind him. Shoving open the door, he greeted Tina with the same zeal he’d greeted Nova and Magpie, then bypassed the rows of filing cabinets on his way to a larger metal door at the back of the room.