Archenemies (Renegades #2)(92)
She blinked at him in bewilderment, unable at first to distinguish between the pretend “uncle” mentioned in her official paperwork and Ace. Her head felt like it was filled with fog and she wondered if everyone woke up this … this groggy. That was the word for it, right? Groggy?
How did people stand it?
“No, it’s fine,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s used to me disappearing at night and not coming back for days. Hard to be cooped up inside while everyone else is sleeping. Plus, now, with patrol duty…” She raked her fingers through her hair, working out a few snags. “Anyway, I’ll … uh … check my file. The number probably got entered wrong.” She rubbed her lashes again and was surprised to find flecks of white caught in them. “Have I really been sleeping for…” She froze, a sting of panic coursing through her limbs. “Do you think it’s because of Max? Is this some sort of aftereffect?”
“What, we can’t give credit to my magically efficient, noise-canceling headphones?”
Nova frowned, even as her fingers fell on the headset.
But then she realized he was joking. “Actually, the thought crossed my mind too. It could be related. Max mentioned having some mild insomnia since you were in the quarantine that day. We know he got a small portion of your power. So maybe now you’re capable of sleeping, but you can sleep by choice, not out of necessity? Or maybe the … conditions have to be right.” He cast a wistful look at the headphones.
Nova curled her fingers around them. Even now, all these years later, she could hear the gunshots inside her head, deafeningly loud. She wasn’t convinced that a set of headphones would allow her mind to rest, after ten years of terrors.
Or perhaps it didn’t have much to do with the headphones at all. She flushed, remembering how it had felt to lay her head against Adrian’s chest. To listen to his heartbeat. There had been a feeling she couldn’t recall having experienced since she was a child.
The uncanny sensation of being safe.
Adrian was watching her, his expression serious. “It’s all right, Nova,” he said, leaning toward her. “It’s been weeks since you came in contact with Max, and this is the first time you’ve slept since then. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that still makes you a prodigy.”
She blinked, realizing how drastically Adrian had misinterpreted whatever he was seeing on her face. He thought she was worried about her powers, but that was a long way from the truth. She knew her true power—Nightmare’s ability to put people to sleep—was intact. She wasn’t afraid of that.
No, what she feared was something far, far worse, and had much more to do with the way she had sunk so easily into oblivion while in the arms of Adrian Everhart.
She was afraid, even now, of the way her fingers were twitching to reach out and touch him, when she never felt compelled to touch anyone, unless it was to disarm them.
And she might have been terrified of how hard it was to keep her gaze from straying to his mouth, or how her own traitorous lips had started to tingle, or how her own heartbeat had become an entire percussion section inside her chest.
Adrian’s eyes narrowed, just slightly. “What’s wrong?” he asked. A little suspicious, a little uncertain.
“Nothing,” she whispered.
Everything, her mind retorted.
What was she here for?
Not to sleep. Not to tell Adrian all the secrets she’d kept locked up her entire life. Not to be reminded for the umpteenth time how things might be different, if only …
Well. If only things were different.
What was she doing here?
Her gaze darted up to the boughs of the surrounding trees, where she spotted an all-white parrot. “The birds are new,” she said, eager to change the subject. To think about something else, before her mind tracked to kissing again.
Adrian didn’t respond for a moment, and she desperately wanted to know what was going through his head.
Had he thought about kissing too?
Her fingers curled around the blanket that had been tucked around her while she slept. Twenty-four hours. He must have been awake for ages now. How long had he been sitting there while she slept? Had he been watching her? And why was it that the possibility normally would have been annoying, if not downright creepy, but now all it did was make her worry that she might have said something incriminating in her sleep? Or, worse … drooled.
No. No, that wasn’t worse. She mentally shook herself, telling her thoughts to get themselves in order.
This was why sleep was dangerous. It addled her senses, and she needed to be on full alert. It made her vulnerable, regardless of how safe she had felt in Adrian’s arms.
“It felt like it needed wildlife,” said Adrian, “and I had some free time. And now I know that I can only draw so many parrots before losing interest.”
She shook her head warily. If Callum ever got ahold of Adrian’s sketchbooks, he would be beside himself. “You’re incredible, you know that, right? I mean … you can create life. First that dinosaur, and now an entire ecosystem?”
Adrian laughed, and though his skin was too dark to be sure, she was almost certain he was blushing. “I don’t think of it like that. I can create … the illusion of life.” He tracked the blue wings of a bird as it hopped across the canopy overhead. “I have a vague idea of how birds fly, and I know they eat bugs, and if they were chased by a falcon they would run away. But they’ll never learn or grow beyond what they are now. They won’t build nests or hatch eggs. They’re more like … like automatons, than real birds.”