Allowing his flame to smolder and vanish, Adrian leaped. He caught her midair and landed just beyond where the gaseous vapor was dissipating. The air smelled suddenly of sharp chemicals, burning the back of his throat.
Danna coughed and rolled out of his arms, landing crouched on one knee. “No,” she murmured, pressing a hand to her heart. “No.”
A bolt of black smoke blurred past them. Adrian lifted his head in time to see the smoke arrow strike Ace Anarchy in the face. He reeled back, coughing into his elbow. Another bolt followed, then another, as fast as Oscar could send them, each one striking one of the villains gathered at the far end of the nave.
Then Oscar cried out.
Adrian looked back to see that Oscar’s cane had been ripped from his hand. It took on a life of its own, striking the backs of Oscar’s knees, knocking him hard to the ground.
“Smokescreen, cover me!” Adrian yelled.
Oscar raised one hand to block another blow from the possessed cane, while his other palm extended toward Adrian. A drift of thick white fog started to roll down the aisle, filling up the pews, when Oscar yelped in pain and swatted at the back of his neck.
Oscar inspected his hand, something small and black clinging to his fingers.
Queen Bee cackled. “Serves you right for that little trick you played at the arena!”
Oscar met Adrian’s gaze. His expression was ferocious, but Adrian could still see the torment behind it. The bee must have had Agent N, just like the ones at the arena.
The last of the fog faded away.
Adrian ground his teeth. His fists tightened.
Danna grabbed his arm. “Adrian, think. It’s a trap.”
He tore his arm away and started to run again. Having been so close to the mist-missile and the cloud of Agent N, they probably thought he’d been neutralized, too.
They were wrong.
Nova hadn’t moved. She watched him charging for her, her face pale, a fear like he’d never seen before brimming in her eyes.
“Let her go!” he yelled, as another flame burst forth from his palm. Adrian prepared to lurch forward, to attack, to tear Ace Anarchy and his cohorts apart, if they’d done anything to hurt her—
He didn’t see the net until it was too late. Until his foot had crossed some invisible mark and, as one, the knot of ropes engulfed him. He stumbled and rolled a few times, entangling himself more.
Choking for air, he tried to rebound to his feet, but one leg was caught. He felt like a wild animal, ensnared in a hunter’s trap, and Danna’s words came back to him, further igniting his anger.
Igniting.
Recalling the first time he’d been caught in ropes like these, he snarled and clenched his left fist around the nearest rope. He summoned his flame, letting it burn as hot as it could.
The fire was an inferno, nearly engulfing Adrian’s entire body, by the time he realized that it wasn’t working. The ropes grew sticky, but they did not burn.
“Fire-resistant coating,” said Cyanide, drawing Adrian’s attention back to the villains. “We do try to learn from past mistakes.”
With sweat dripping down the back of his neck, Adrian maneuvered his right arm so he had a clear shot through the net. His skin lit up. He targeted Ace Anarchy, standing not far from Nova, and fired.
A series of pews flew up onto their sides, forming a wall between Adrian and the villains. The pews crashed back down to the floor, their splintered wooden seats leaving just enough space between them that there remained a narrow aisle down the nave’s center.
“Great marvels,” said Queen Bee. Stepping forward, she linked her elbow with Nova’s. Adrian tensed, panic surging through every nerve. “If you want her so much, here—you can have her.”
With a saccharine smile, Queen Bee shoved Nova forward. She stumbled down the few steps onto the long, narrow path that distinguished the choir from the nave. She caught herself and hesitated.
“Nova,” said Adrian, his voice thick with despair, his arms straining against the ropes. “Are you okay?”
She stared at him, swallowing hard.
She said nothing as she started down the aisle. She appeared tormented and unsure. He had never seen Nova, confident, brave Nova, look like that before.
But as she came closer, he noticed something else, too.
She was not tied up, like he would assume a Renegade prisoner would be.
She was not wearing her Renegade uniform, or even her usual civilian clothes, but rather a black jacket and a utility belt that seemed eerily familiar.