Archenemies (Renegades #2)(49)

Nova’s pulse jumped, and just like that, she was back in the neglected corner of Cosmopolis Park, and Adrian was telling her how worried he’d been when he thought she was dead, and he was stepping closer, and her breaths were coming quicker—

“Do you want to talk about it?” His eyes were on her, unsure.

Heat climbed her neck and blossomed across her cheeks. Did she want to talk about it?

No, not really.

She wanted to pretend like it hadn’t happened. She wanted to start over.

She wanted him to try to kiss her again, because this time, she wouldn’t run away.

“I … I’m sorry,” she said, wetting her lips. “I think I just … I just got scared.”

It was true. It was still true. She was scared. Scared that she felt this way for Adrian Everhart, a Renegade. Scared that she couldn’t quite escape it, no matter how many times she reminded herself that he was the enemy.

Scared that even now, she knew that she wasn’t trying to get close to him only because Ace had suggested it. If anything, that was just a convenient excuse to do exactly what she’d wanted to do all along.

“Of course you were scared,” he said. “I was terrified.”

“You were?”

“But you were braver than I was. I completely froze up, and you…” He trailed off.

Nova stared at him, perplexed. She was brave? He froze up?

“But still, even if the Detonator was a monster, I know it couldn’t have been easy. You killed someone, and—” He lifted both hands like he was trying to calm her, but Nova wasn’t upset. She was baffled. “You did what you had to do, but it couldn’t have been easy, and … I just … if you want to talk about it, you can talk to me.”

“About … killing the Detonator,” she said, as her thoughts reshuffled and fell back into place.

Here she was, dwelling on an almost-kiss, and Adrian wanted to talk about the time she’d killed someone.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I just thought—”

“No, it’s fine. I mean … I was offered trauma counseling, if I wanted it, but I don’t really feel like I need it.” And she wasn’t about to spill her innermost thoughts to a Renegade psychiatrist, even if she did need it. “The thing is, killing the Detonator wasn’t hard.” She exhaled, and wanted to move closer to Adrian, but there was so much stuff between them. So much baggage. Her entire past life laid out at their feet, and she couldn’t bring herself to wade through it. “It wasn’t hard at all. She was hurting all those people, and she would have hurt so many more.” Her palms were becoming damp, but she forced herself to hold Adrian’s gaze and tell him the truth, what she had known even then was the truth. “She would have hurt you.”

Surprise warmed his features. “Nova…”

She turned away, her heart fluttering with the way he was looking at her.

Then—“Nova.”

She glanced up again, and Adrian was suddenly grinning. He pointed to something behind her.

Nova peered up. Her shoulders fell.

Winston’s puppet, Hettie, was perched on the topmost shelf over Nova’s old desk, its wooden legs dangling over the side, its sad eyes watching them as though it had been listening in on the whole conversation and found it severely disheartening.

She bit back a groan. “Brilliant.”

*

AFTER ADRIAN RETRIEVED the doll, they made their way back through the warehouse and found Snapshot talking to Callum in the section devoted to artifacts with healing properties.

“It should clearly go in defense,” Callum was saying, holding up a thick black pendant attached to a slender chain.

“I disagree,” said Snapshot, punching something into a handheld label maker. “It belongs here, with the other healing objects.”

“It doesn’t heal,” Callum said.

“It protects from disease,” said Snapshot.

“Yeah, it protects you from getting sick, but it won’t do anything if you’re already sick. It’s preventative. It’s a defensive measure. Defense.”

“Excuse me?” said Adrian, drawing their attention.

Callum opened his arms wide. “Nova, tell her! Vitality Charm, healing or defense?” He held up the necklace. The large round pendant swung from the chain. It appeared old—ancient even—with a rudimentary symbol impressed into what might have been iron, showing an open palm with a serpent curled up inside it.

Nova shook her head. “Sorry, Callum. Never heard of it.”

His shoulders sank. “Okay, well … mostly it’s used to protect against poison and disease, but there was also one account of it fending off a strength-draining attack from a prodigy.”

“Cool,” said Adrian. “Can I see?”

Callum handed the pendant to him. “They’ve had it in healing for years, but that doesn’t make sense.”

“Fine, Callum, fine,” said Snapshot, pressing a label onto the edge of a shelf. “Shelve it wherever you want. Hello, Adrian—I heard you were going through the Anarchist room. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“As a matter of fact…” Adrian held up the puppet. “Can I get it cleared to be taken out?”