Archenemies (Renegades #2)(53)

He deflated fast. “I’m painting a mural.”

Hugh’s eyebrows rose with interest. “A mural?”

“Yeah. It’s still a pretty new idea. So can I…?” He gestured toward the foyer.

Simon cast Hugh an exasperated glance. “When did he become such a teenager?”

“Adrian,” Hugh said, digging a handful of popcorn from Simon’s bowl, “we just want you to talk to us for a minute. You’ve seemed distant since … well, since Cosmopolis Park.”

Though it wasn’t said like an accusation, Adrian couldn’t help feeling defensive. He’d been distant? They were the ones always busy trying to govern the entirety of the civilized world.

But he knew better than to say that. “You guys have been busy. With the fallout from the Detonator and the big Agent N announcement and everything, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You never bother us,” said Simon. “You’re always our top priority, no matter what else we’re dealing with. I know we haven’t been giving you much attention lately, but it doesn’t mean we haven’t noticed how you’ve changed.”

Adrian felt the prickle of tattoos imprinted on his body. “I haven’t changed,” he insisted.

The comment earned a snort from both dads. He scowled at them.

“How are things going with you and Nova?” said Hugh.

Adrian gawked at him and, for the first time, began to regret coming up here. He should have just gone ahead and done the painting. It’s not like they ever went down there. He probably would have grown up and moved out before they discovered it. But no—he was trying to be responsible, and this is what he got. “What do you mean?”

“Are you two … dating?”

When Adrian returned his question with a somewhat horrified stare, Hugh raised his palms. “We are allowed to ask that, aren’t we?”

“Nova’s a friend,” Adrian said quickly, to get it over with. “We’re fine. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Simon grunted and sang under his breath, “Told you so…,” leaving Adrian to wonder what, exactly, he had told Hugh, and for how long his love life, or lack thereof, had been a topic of conversation.

“Fine,” said Hugh. “I’m sorry I said anything. I just … I just hope you know that you can always talk to us.” He smiled awkwardly, like he couldn’t quite believe how much of a dad thing that was to say.

“About anything,” Simon reinforced.

Adrian nodded. Even though suffering through this conversation was about the last thing he wanted to be doing at the moment, he had to admit, it was nice to be reminded that his dads cared about him, even if he didn’t fully believe that he was their top priority like they claimed. Which, usually, was okay with him. They were the world’s greatest superheroes. What did he expect?

“Of course, Dad.” He glanced at Simon. “Pops. I swear, I’m fine. So…” Adrian inched back into the door frame. “Can I go now?”

Hugh huffed and waved a hand at Adrian. “Fine. Return to your solitude. Go make your masterpiece.”

Adrian cast them both a quick salute, then darted into the hallway before they could think of more touchy-feely, father-son stuff to talk about.

He was downstairs again in a heartbeat, digging through a box of old art supplies. A lot of them had been collected by his mom, way back when he was still a kid, first learning to draw. There were broken crayons and paintbrushes with their bristles long ago cemented together and a watercolor set where all the colors had bled together into a murky greenish-brown.

He found the pastels tossed together in a plastic bag. Though many were broken and partly melted, he was overjoyed to see the vast array of colors that greeted him.

Sitting cross-legged in front of the wall, he started to draw a new collection of supplies. A series of quart-size paint cans, each filled with rich, earthy tones and tropical bright hues.

Within minutes, he had the paint cans scattered across the concrete floor, along with a set of brand-new brushes.

He considered the blank walls one more time and began to paint.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NORMALLY, THE TRAINING HALLS located in the sublevels of Renegade HQ were a hive of activity. This was where Renegades practiced running through the various obstacles or tested out new techniques with their powers. But when Nova arrived for the first day of Agent N training, the vast hall buzzed with a strange, nervous hush.

For once, there was no one lifting weights or throwing punches, no one manipulating the giant pool of water or doing cartwheels through flaming hoops, no one traversing zip lines or scaling walls. The entire hall had been reserved for the patrol units who would be working with their new chemical weapon for the first time, and the effect made the hall feel lifeless and ordinary.

Nova’s skin prickled as she made her way along the catwalk that spanned the length of the training floor. She was early, and only a dozen Renegades were waiting by the projectile targets, including Adrian, though there was no sign of Oscar, Ruby, or Danna yet. Adrian was talking to Eclipse, the leader of one of the other patrols.

Nova let out a slow breath.

All morning her mind ticked down the growing list of priorities.

First: damage control. She needed to know what Winston had told him and ensure that her secret was still safe.