Archenemies (Renegades #2)(59)

“Do you ever think about aiming?” she asked.

“Of course I aim.”

“Could have fooled me.”

His eyes skipped toward hers.

She was smiling, teasing him. Then her lashes fluttered in surprise and she backed away, putting a couple of inches between them.

“I think that’s your problem,” she said, turning toward the targets. “You like to take in the whole world. But you need to stop and focus. In the moment you squeeze the trigger, nothing should exist except you and your target. Here, try again. This time, ignore everything else. Just focus on that one target.”

As he lined up the target in his sights, Nova moved behind him, pressing one hand to his back while the other wrapped around his on the grip. “It’s an extension of your arm,” she said. “Like … like your marker.”

He chuckled. “It’s nothing like my marker.”

“Don’t argue with me.”

His smile broadened.

“Imagine your arms absorbing the kickback,” Nova continued, “and sending all that energy through your feet and into the ground. That will help keep your body loose so you don’t tense up every time you fire.”

But he couldn’t think of anything beyond the closeness of her. Her hand between his shoulder blades. Her arm grazing his. He found himself wanting to stall. Wanting to draw out this moment just a little longer. He inhaled and it carried a bit of a shiver with it.

He felt her go still.

“Whenever—” Her voice scratched and she cleared her throat. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Am I supposed to be shooting something?” Adrian whispered, startling her.

“The target,” she said dryly. “Ignore everything else.”

He turned his head enough that he could meet her eyes again. “You want me to ignore everything else?”

She held his gaze, but her confidence was swept away. He watched as color bloomed across her cheeks. Great skies, she was beautiful.

Adrian gulped and looked away. He gripped the gun even tighter, found the target, and fired. But he forgot to set up his stance. Forgot to relax his shoulders. Forgot to focus.

The dart went wide.

He grinned sheepishly, stepping back until they were no longer touching. “Like I said, I’m hopeless.”





CHAPTER TWENTY

NOVA STOMPED DOWN the back alley behind the dilapidated row houses, hands clenched at her sides.

What was wrong with Adrian? She was doing her best to flirt with him, and making a complete fool of herself in the process. She couldn’t possibly be any more obvious. But either Adrian was the most oblivious boy this side of the Stockton Bridge, or—

Her teeth gritted.

She really hated that or, and she found herself growing more livid every time she thought of it.

Or … Adrian just wasn’t interested in her anymore. Maybe Nova had lost her chance when she’d run away from him at the carnival.

Ace had told her to stay close to Adrian Everhart, and she was doing her best. She understood the reasons behind it. She knew that Adrian’s trust could lead to a weakness in his fathers. Which was precisely why it was so infuriating every time he turned away from her, or avoided eye contact, or dodged her touch. Again and again.

It was making her mission more difficult. She hated that.

Her annoyance had nothing to do with the sting she felt in her chest every time Adrian proved that what he’d once felt for her was over.

And, apparently, her best efforts weren’t going to bring it back.

A flash of gold fluttered in the corner of her vision and Nova froze. A monarch butterfly was flitting around a patch of ironweed that had gone rampant in one of the neighbors’ neglected yards.

Nova’s pulse thrummed as she watched the insect dither over one purple bloom before moving to another, methodical in its hunt for nectar. Her feet, still sporting her Renegade-issued boots, were cemented to the alley’s cracked asphalt. She told herself that she wasn’t afraid—her, Nova Artino, afraid of a butterfly? But the gooseflesh on her arms suggested otherwise. What if Danna had been watching her today when Nova had taken the vial of Agent N? She’d been careful, but had she been careful enough?

The butterfly moved to the stand of plants on the other side of the garden. A swallow trilled from a power line overhead. Nova almost hoped the bird would soar down and snatch the butterfly into its beak, because then she wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not the creature was really one of Danna’s spies.

She wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the day wondering whether Danna was following her.

She wouldn’t be terrified that Danna had already discovered her secret.

She was beginning to contemplate the odds of the butterfly staying put long enough for her to run into the house and find something to capture it with when the creature finished its meal and took off, flittering up and over the row house and toward the next road.

At least it was flying away from headquarters.

It was probably just an ordinary butterfly, she told herself. Nothing to worry about.

Nova trudged the rest of the way toward her own weed-infested yard, ignoring the deafening buzz of Honey’s beehives as she stomped into the shadow of the crumbling row house. Her hands shook as she yanked open the sliding glass door and trudged into the dingy kitchen. They continued to tremble as she unclasped the buckle of her utility belt. She dropped it onto the counter beside a coffeepot half full of long-cold coffee and an assortment of vials and beakers, remnants of Leroy’s latest work.