Archenemies (Renegades #2)(61)

He tapped a finger against his chin. “I’ll see what I can find, though I’m not sure how much I can accomplish with such a small test sample. And without access to the Renegade labs, their tests, their supplies … and, of course, the boy.”

A shiver traipsed down her spine. Max had been brought up several times in their conversations lately, ever since she’d told them about Agent N. Nova couldn’t help feeling like telling the Anarchists about him had left Max vulnerable somehow, and she hated it.

“Do your best for now,” she said, turning away. “I’ll try to bring you more samples after my next training session.”

She plodded up the stairway to the bedroom she shared with Honey. It was a relief to peel the Renegade uniform off her skin and change into her own clothes. She had just finished pulling a T-shirt over her head when Honey threw open the door and sauntered into the room, her hair in a towel and a silk bathrobe tied at her waist. The smell of oat-and-honey soap wafted after her into the room, mingling with the cloying scents of Honey’s perfumes, body creams, and cosmetics.

“Oh, sweetheart!” Honey cooed. She pulled the towel from her hair and began squeezing water from her curls. “You’re back early today. Isn’t there enough murder and mayhem happening on the streets to keep the Renegades busy?” Dropping the towel onto the floor, she stretched one pale arm toward the mattress in the corner of the room. A handful of black wasps that had been crawling over her bed linens zipped toward her, alighting on her shoulder and knuckles. Nova watched one disappear into the opening of Honey’s sleeve.

“Our schedules were adjusted for Agent N training.”

“Oh? Does that mean you saw that darling Everhart boy today?”

Nova’s gut clenched. “I pretty much see him all the time.”

“Good.” Honey sat in front of her vanity mirror and began picking a wide-toothed comb through her damp hair. “I went to see Ace this morning. He wanted to be sure you’re staying close to him like he asked, and keeping your ears open for anything that might be useful regarding the Council.”

Nova’s skin prickled. It made her uncomfortable to think of the other Anarchists, Ace especially, talking about her when she wasn’t there. “You can tell Ace that I see him plenty,” she said, pacing to the window. She pried open two of the cheap plastic blinds and peered into the alley. A plump bumblebee was wandering over the glass, trying to figure out how to get inside.

“And? How are things going?”

Nova’s mouth dried as she tracked the bee’s movements.

How were things with Adrian?

“Fine,” she spat.

It was true. They were fine. Always fine. He was as friendly toward her as he had ever been. Always welcoming. Always ready with an encouraging smile and a kind word. Always so damned nice.

“That doesn’t sound fine,” Honey mused.

Nova thrust open the window and waited for the bee to zip inside. She turned away, enjoying the cool air on the back of her neck. She expected Honey to be watching her, but no. Honey Harper was fully involved with her vanity mirror, tracing thick black eyeliner along her lower lash line. It was a daily ritual for her, and one that Nova found as baffling now as she had in the tunnels.

It wasn’t like Honey could leave the house, and Nova doubted she cared much about getting dolled up for Leroy or Phobia.

“How was Ace when you saw him?” she asked.

Honey dipped her lashes suspiciously. “You’re dodging.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Nova went on, ignoring the accusation, “maybe we can start taking him out for walks. No one ever goes to the cathedral ruins. If he could get out in the sunshine, get some fresh air—even just for a few minutes a day—it could help him, right?”

Honey stiffened. “Take him for walks? He’s not a dog.”

“I’m serious.” Nova gestured at Honey. “Being out of the tunnels has been so good for you, for all of us. Maybe if we could get him out of those catacombs, let him breathe again—”

Honey rose from her chair. “He is Ace Anarchy. Have you forgotten? If anyone were to see him—”

“We’ll be careful.”

“He would be murdered on sight or locked away in that horrible prison.”

“He’s already in prison!”

“Absolutely not. It isn’t worth the risk.”

Nova huffed and peered out the window again. It was a beautiful day—crisp and breezy, with flashes of sun streaming through the clouds. Sometimes she worried that Ace’s weakness was as much in his mind as his body. To be locked away from the very society he had tried to help …

He never complained. He had Nova and the others, he would say. He had his books and his teapot and that was all he needed.

But Nova knew it wasn’t enough. He was dying. Soon he would be just one more forgotten skeleton beneath those hallowed ruins.

“I understand,” Honey said, her voice gentler now. “I truly do. Ace is like a father to me, too, you know. I hate seeing him this way. But you know how to help him, and it isn’t with a little bit of fresh air.”

Nova pursed her lips. The helmet. “I know,” she whispered. Then a thought occurred to her and she glanced back at Honey. “Aren’t you older than Ace?”

Honey gasped in dismay. She snatched a jar from the vanity and tossed it at Nova’s head. Nova ducked and the jar crashed against the wall, exploding in a cloud of talcum powder.