Archenemies (Renegades #2)(91)

Nova shivered.

“I had that dream more times than I could count. It got to where I would throw tantrums every time my mom put on her costume. I didn’t want her to go. I was so terrified that she wouldn’t come back. And then, one night, she didn’t.” He met Nova’s gaze. “When they found her body, it was clear the fall had killed her, and there was a look of … of terror on her face. For a long time I thought that my dreams had made it come true. Like maybe they were prophetic or something.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Nova, squeezing his hand. “They were dreams, Adrian. It was just a coincidence.”

“I know,” he said, though Nova wasn’t sure if she believed him, or if he believed himself. “But she could fly. How could she have fallen so far without being able to…” He lowered his head. “No villain ever took credit for her death, as far as I know. Which is unlike them—a lot of the villain gangs liked to brag about their victories. And killing Lady Indomitable … that would have been a victory worth bragging about.” His voice turned sour, and it was clear that this mystery had haunted and frustrated him nearly as long as Nova’s past had tormented her.

“You want to find out who did it,” she said slowly, “so you can have revenge.”

“Not revenge,” said Adrian. “Justice.”

She shivered. He said it with conviction, though she wasn’t sure he would recognize the difference in his own heart.

And what of her own heart, she wondered.

Did she want revenge against the Council, or justice?

Her whole body felt heavy thinking about it.

This wasn’t for her. This moment of peace. This sense of safety. This world with no heroes and no villains, where she and Adrian Everhart could sit holding hands inside a childhood dream.

This world didn’t exist.

Rubbing his forehead, Adrian let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. This,” he said, gesturing around, “is supposed to be a dream, not a nightmare.”

A faint smile twitched at the sides of her mouth. “It is a dream, Adrian. The first I’ve had in a long time.”

His eyes shone at her words. Then he fished his marker from his jeans pocket and glanced around. “I have an idea,” he said, turning to a crumbling stone wall. He began to sketch. It amazed Nova that he could create something real and tangible out of nothing. He could go on like this forever, creating a dream within a dream within a dream.

He drew a set of large headphones and pulled them from the stone. He held them out to Nova. “Noise-canceling headphones,” he explained. “Not even gunshots can get through.” He nudged her shoulder with the headband.

Nose wrinkling with doubt, Nova took the headphones and slipped the padded cuffs over her ears. Instantly the world, which had already been quiet, dimmed to impenetrable silence, fed only by the thundering of her own pulse, the drum of her own heartbeat.

Adrian’s lips moved. A question, she thought, but Nova shook her head at him.

Adrian grinned. He lay down, extending his arm over the patch of moss. An invitation.

Nova hesitated for far less time than she should have, then sank down and settled her head into the crook between his shoulder and his chest. It took a moment for her to get comfortable with the headphones on, but when she did, she realized that there were two heartbeats now drumming against each other. Though the aromas from the jungle had filled the room, this close to Adrian she could smell the chemical tang of paint mixed with an undercurrent of pine-scented soap.

Her attention landed on the star. It never dimmed. Never brightened. Never changed at all. Just hovered, peaceful and constant.

And this boy, this amazing boy, had made all of this.

She remembered why she had come there that night. To find the Vitality Charm. To protect herself in the upcoming fight with Agent N. To fulfill her duty.

It could wait. Just one more hour. Maybe two. Then she would put Adrian to sleep and she would continue with her plan.

For now, in this strange, impossible dream, it could wait.

Steadily, slowly, their heartbeats fell into sync. Nova listened to them thumping in tandem for what might have been an eternity. She was still staring at the star when, unexpectedly, it winked out and Nova fell into a quiet, dreamless sleep.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

SHE AWOKE TO THE SOUND of birds. In that hazy place between sleeping and waking, it seemed entirely normal that the city’s cooing pigeons and squawking crows had been exchanged for the trill and chatter of far more exotic creatures.

The tranquility lasted for only a moment. Eyes snapping open, Nova jolted upward, one hand sinking into moss and the other landing on a discarded pair of headphones. A blanket tumbled around her hips.

“Great skies,” said Adrian. He sat a few feet away, his back against the statue. A large sketchbook rested beside him, a pencil settled in its gutter. From her vantage point she could make out an upside-down, half-completed toucan.

He smiled. “For someone who never, ever, ever sleeps, you sleep like a pro when you want to.”

Nova palmed her eyes, trying to rub away her drowsiness. “Time is it?”

“Almost five,” he said. “At night. You’ve been sleeping for nearly twenty-four hours straight. Which, by my estimate, still means you’re nowhere near caught up.” His expression turned serious, that little wrinkle forming over the bridge of his glasses. “I tried calling the number in your file, to let your uncle know where you are, but it said it’s been disconnected. Is there another number I should try? He must be worried.”