Archenemies (Renegades #2)(62)
“Never let me hear those words from your mouth again, do you hear me?”
Nova laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Clearly I was mistaken.” She stooped and picked up the near-empty jar and returned it to the vanity. Her mouth dried as she scanned the array of cosmetics and perfumes, most of them crawling with curious wasps. “Actually, Honey? I … I could maybe use your help with something.”
Honey crossed her arms, still irate.
“It’s about Adrian.”
Her expression quickly turned to intrigue. “Oh?”
“I’m not sure if he’s … interested in me anymore. At least not like … like that.” At Honey’s skeptical look, Nova attempted to gather what dignity she could in the stiffening of her shoulders. “So, maybe you could help me figure out … how to get him interested. Again.”
An eagerness brightened Honey’s face. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she said, placing her fingers against her chest. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
*
WE ALREADY KNOW one of the Council’s greatest weaknesses … and when the time is right, we will use him to great advantage indeed.
That’s what Ace had said, and he was right. If Captain Chromium and the Dread Warden had a weakness, it was their adopted sons—Adrian and Max. Nova could use Adrian’s trust to her advantage, especially if that trust also came with his affection.
But why did earning his affection have to seem so horrifically awkward?
“I can’t do that,” said Nova, arms folded tight over her chest.
“You can, and you will. Here, like this.” Honey crossed one long leg over her knee and scooted a hair closer to Nova on the mattress. Her bare toes nudged Nova’s shin, so tenderly she would have thought she was imagining it, except Honey had just outlined this exact flirtation technique in painful detail. “Then you angle your shoulders, like this.” Honey flipped her hair to one side and shifted her body closer. “Give him your undivided attention. Like there is nothing else in the room half as interesting to you as this conversation. He needs to believe you are mesmerized by everything he’s saying.” Honey settled an elbow on her knee and her chin on her knuckles. Her smoky eyes locked on to Nova’s. The look was so intense, Nova found herself starting to blush.
“Now, this is the clincher,” said Honey. “Whatever he says next, you laugh. Not too robustly, but just enough to let him know you think he’s charming, and you could listen to him speak all day. Ready?”
“What if he doesn’t say anything funny?”
Honey giggled and tapped Nova on the knee. It was a sweet chirp of a laugh that sent a tingle of pride through Nova’s chest, until she realized that Honey wasn’t laughing because she was amused, but was only trying to demonstrate what she was talking about.
Nova flushed. It was uncanny, the way Honey could pull someone into her orbit. Make them feel so important, so witty, so worthy, all with a few well-timed laughs and the faintest of touches.
She shook her head and stood up, kicking some of Honey’s discarded shoes to the side of the room.
“This is never going to work,” she said. “He’ll see right through me.”
“You worry too much,” said Honey, settling back on her palms. “If he can tell you’re trying to flirt with him, even if you’re terrible at it, he’ll be charmed by your attempts, and flattered all the same. Just like that, the flame will be rekindled and you’ll be back to your angst-riddled un-relationship before you can bat those pretty lashes at him.”
Nova scowled. “I think you’re underestimating his intelligence.”
“And I think you’re overestimating the egos of teenage boys everywhere. Trust me, little Nightmare. You can handle this. It isn’t chemical gastronomy or … whatever it is Leroy does.”
Nova scoffed. “I’d rather take my chances with the chemicals.” She rubbed her palms down the sides of her pants. They had started to sweat as she mulled over the possibility of looking at Adrian like Honey had looked at her. Touching him. Suggesting with every gesture, every glance, that she wanted him to try to kiss her again.
Her heart thumped as a bewildering thought occurred to her.
Sweet rot. What if it actually worked?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ADRIAN WAS BOTH nervous and exhausted as he reached the mezzanine floor over the main lobby of headquarters. He knew he should be catching up on sleep, as he had stayed awake painting the last few nights. The mural was starting to take shape, even if only in underlayers of shadows and light, general outlines and suggestions of the work still to come. The details still needed to be filled in, all those little highlights that would bring it to life.
He’d finally put the paintbrush down when his alarm reminded him that there was something else he wanted to do today, something far more important than his new art project. Even more important than his hunt for Nightmare or the Anarchists. An idea that had been growing in the back of his head since he’d left the artifacts warehouse, filled with equal parts intrigue and hope.
He crossed the sky bridge and paced around the glass wall of the quarantine. He could feel the weight of the Vitality Charm pressing against his chest, warm even through the fabric of his uniform.
He had spent hours reading about the medallion in the database and doing what research he could do on his own, though the charm’s history was not as well documented as some artifacts in the Renegades’ collection. It had been forged by a prodigy blacksmith during the Middle Ages. The blacksmith’s abilities were questionable, but he was evidently a healer of some sort, and the charm soon earned a reputation for being able to ward off the plague. That plague. Naturally, such a coveted object was eventually stolen and the blacksmith was hanged for crimes of witchcraft not long after, and so a duplicate was never made, so far as anyone knew.