Archenemies (Renegades #2)(97)

“Just a box.” Hugh huffed, and his momentary concern seemed to have passed. “It’s an interesting theory, but there’s no point in speculating. I know myself and I know how my powers work. There’s only one prodigy who can break into that thing, and it’s not Adrian”—he gave Adrian a pointed scowl—“or anyone else we need to worry about.”

“Really?” Nova’s spine tingled. “Who is it?”

Hugh tossed up a hand, exasperated. “Me!”

Nova lifted an eyebrow. “Because you could … manipulate the chromium some more?”

“Well, sure. Or I could make a sledgehammer to take to it, if I was feeling destructive. But the helmet is safe. No one’s gotten to it yet, and no one ever will.”

Nova’s pulse quickened, the start of an idea whispering deep in her thoughts.

Chromium sledgehammer?

Would that work? Would a weapon made of the same material be strong enough to destroy the box?

Only if it was made by the Captain himself, she suspected. As her electrolysis experiment had suggested, that box wasn’t made out of normal chromium. Just like the Captain himself, his weapons were … well, extraordinary.

“Are you going to the gala tomorrow night?” asked Simon, and Nova was so lost in her speculations it took her a moment to realize he was asking her.

“Gala?” she said, trying to remember what day it was. “Is that tomorrow already?”

“I had that exact thought a few hours ago,” said Hugh. “We’ve gotten a lot of last-minute sponsors and it’s pulling together to be a nice event. Live music, fully catered. It’ll be fun. Anyway, you have to come. You know, Nova, a lot of the people in the organization are starting to look up to you—the young ones especially. It would mean a lot if you were there.”

Nova forced a close-lipped smile, though her heart was sinking from the implications of his words, and what she had become in the eyes of the Renegades. Someone to admire, to respect, to emulate.

She was Nova McLain. The superhero, and the fraud.





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

NOVA REMEMBERED LITTLE ELSE about the conversation over dinner, most of which revolved around the Council’s plans for ongoing community outreach programs. Finally, Hugh and Simon got up from the table and starting loading the dishwasher, moving like a well-rehearsed team. Nova watched them for a minute, unable to fully align this simple domestic chore with the superheroes who had defeated Ace Anarchy.

“So,” started Adrian, pulling her attention back to him. He seemed more relaxed now and she suspected he was relieved that the meal was over. “You probably need to get home?”

She blinked at him and nearly started laughing.

Home.

Right.

Smiling tightly, she said, “How about that movie we never got to?”

Which is how Nova found herself back in Adrian’s den, seated on the worn sofa. The entertainment industry was one that had ground to a halt during the Age of Anarchy and had been slow to get started again in the years since, so Adrian’s entire movie collection consisted of thirty-year-old “classics.” Nova hadn’t seen any of them.

Adrian selected a martial arts film, but it didn’t really matter to Nova what he picked. She wouldn’t be watching it anyway.

Adrian settled down on the couch. Not touching her, but close enough to suggest there could be touching, if she wanted there to be. Or maybe there was no ulterior motive and he just had a favorite spot, a preferred cushion.

Nova chastised her heartbeat for increasing. It almost felt like a stranger had hijacked her body. Someone who had forgotten who she was and where she came from. Or more important, who Adrian was.

This attraction had to stop. She was an Anarchist. She was Nightmare.

What exactly did she think would happen when he found out? Because he would find out eventually. It was inevitable. Once she had the helmet, and that Vitality Charm, and she no longer had to play this game anymore.

Drawing in a stabilizing breath, Nova inched closer to Adrian and settled her head on his shoulder. He tensed, but it was brief. Then he slid his arm around her and she sank against his side. She urged her body not to get comfortable. Not to enjoy his warmth or the subtle strength in that arm, or the smell of pine that might have been soap or aftershave.

This time, her own calculating thoughts were louder than his heartbeat. The ticking clock in her mind was faster than her pulse.

The movie scrolled through the opening credits. A man appeared on the screen trudging through a blizzard. High on a mountain stood a foreboding temple.

Adrian’s hand was resting on his leg. Nova, as casually as she could, started to reach for it. She was moments away from lacing their fingers together when Adrian pulled away, shifting his body so fast that Nova nearly sank into the dip between the cushions.

She straightened.

Adrian had turned to face her, lifting one knee onto the couch. His expression was worried, but his shoulders were set. Nova withdrew from him, her defenses rising like castle walls.

“The gala tomorrow night,” he blurted, the words spoken so fast they blurred into one unwieldy statement.

Nova gaped. “Excuse me?”

“The gala. If you’re going and I’m going and … Would you like to go together? As a date, I mean. Officially, this time.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “I know I wasn’t clear with the whole carnival thing, so I’ll just put it out there from the start. I would like you to be my date. I would really like that a lot, actually…” He paused before adding, somewhat self-consciously, “If you want to.”