Archenemies (Renegades #2)(46)

“Let me guess,” said Nova, cupping her cheek in one hand. “You used to dream that you arrived at HQ only to realize you’d forgotten to put on clothes that morning.”

He shot her an annoyed look. “I was, like, four. HQ didn’t even exist yet.”

“Oh.”

“No, it was more like … there was this thing, watching me, all the time. I called it the monster, because I was original like that. Half the time I couldn’t even see it, but I would know it was there, waiting to…”

“To what?”

“I’m not sure. Kill me, maybe. Or kill my mom or all the people I cared about. I don’t think I ever had a dream where it actually did anything, other than lurk in the background, waiting to grab me or chase me.” He shuddered. “In hindsight, it’s probably not that surprising. I grew up surrounded by superheroes. Every time my mom left our apartment I didn’t know if she would ever come back. And the news was always full of stories of people getting kidnapped or being found dead in gutters … What was my subconscious supposed to do with all that information?” He shot her a wistful smile. “I can see why your subconscious thought it would be better to just let the whole city collapse.”

A surprised laugh escaped her, and though she knew Adrian was joking, she wondered if there was a hint of truth to his words.

“Nightmares,” she mused. “I don’t miss them.”

Adrian’s face softened, and she couldn’t quite look away. Her nerves tingled.

“We should probably get back,” he murmured, without breaking eye contact. Without moving at all.

“Probably,” agreed Nova. But she couldn’t move either. Anticipation mingled with nervousness. Her heart pounded like a mallet.

Earn his affection.

She glimpsed his hand resting in the grass and tried to work up the courage to touch him. She tried to channel Honey Harper, imagining what she would do. A brush of her shoulder, a graze of her fingertips?

The thought of it made her shiver.

What would Honey do?

Nova’s gaze skipped down to Adrian’s lips.

She gulped and leaned forward.

Adrian took in a sudden breath and, before Nova knew what was happening, he had jumped to his feet and started brushing himself off. “Yeah, wow, we need to hurry,” he said, glancing at his wristband. “Don’t want to be late for … uh … jousting or … whatever it was…”

Nova gaped up at him.

Sweet rot. She had tried to kiss him and … he had rejected her.

So, that’s what that felt like.

Mortification overtook her, and she was grateful that he seemed determined not to look at her, as it gave her a moment to gather her wits and shove down her disappointment.

Shove it far, far down inside.

So far down that she could almost convince herself it wasn’t there at all.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN

NOVA WASN’T SURE which riddle was more frustrating.

Adrian, who had gone from trying to kiss her at the amusement park to acting like she had a contagious, incurable disease.

Or Ace’s helmet, which was trapped inside an unopenable box.

Nova wasn’t fond of riddles in general, but of the two currently plaguing her, she found it far less uncomfortable to focus on the chromium box, and so she had spent all morning sitting at the front desk outside the artifacts warehouse contemplating just that.

How do you open an unopenable box?

How do you destroy an indestructible material?

What could be strong enough to safely get past the chromium and free Ace’s helmet from its prison?

Nova still didn’t have the answer, but she knew who did. Captain Chromium. He had made the box. He must know how to unmake it. And though Nova wasn’t sure what she could say to him to get him to give up this secret, she knew she would have to try.

Before Ace faded away into nothing.

She was caught up in a very long, very clever, very imaginary conversation with the Captain when the elevator doors dinged and none other than her second riddle strolled into the reception area. Nova jerked upward. “Adrian?”

He was practically bouncing on his feet as he hurried to her desk. “It’s here,” he said, beaming.

She gaped at him, feeling like she should know what it was, but all she could think about was the helmet.

“Excuse me?”

“I was thinking that all that stuff from the tunnels had probably gotten thrown away after it was checked for evidence, but I talked to the head of crime-scene investigation this morning and she told me it’s all been brought here. They don’t throw anything away until an investigation is closed, so right now all the Anarchists’ stuff is supposedly just sitting around in a stockpile somewhere, waiting to be tagged and categorized and”—he waved his hand absently toward the vault—“whatever it is that happens here, exactly.”

Nova studied him, her stomach dropping. “Winston’s puppet.”

Settling his elbows onto the desk, Adrian leaned toward her. “Exactly. On top of that, I’ve gotten approval from both the Council and Winston’s counselor. He can have the puppet in exchange for information, just as long as Snapshot checks it first to be sure it isn’t hiding some secret magical power.”

Winston’s puppet. That he was willing to trade information for.