we will tolerate this abuse no more!”
Nova waited. It was clear Narcissa had repeated this speech a time or two.
The weird thing was, it sounded an awful lot like something Ace would have said.
She was about to suggest that maybe Narcissa’s hatred was misplaced when the mirror walker continued. “You have a choice,” she said, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “Go ahead and kill me, and my people will make sure that your enemies know all your secrets by morning. Or give me the helmet and let me go, and you can live another day, as Nightmare or Insomnia or whoever it is you think you are.”
The silence was brief.
“All right, then,” said Honey, dragging a pointed nail down the back of a plump bumblebee that was crawling along her pinky finger. “Shall I have the honors?”
Leroy yawned. “I’ll warm up the car. Do you think it’s best to drop the body into the bay or the river?”
“The river is closer,” said Honey. “And I don’t really think anyone’s going to miss her, despite this talk of Rejects.” Her smile became wicked. “I’ll call the bluff.”
Narcissa’s defiance extinguished as her attention darted toward the swarming bees.
It took a lot of venom from even the most dangerous of wasps to kill a person who wasn’t allergic to them, but it could be done.
It was an awfully painful way to die.
“Death,” rasped a voice. “And bees, at least at the moment.”
Phobia’s form solidified from the shadows, filling up the doorway to the kitchen. There was a bit of moonlight coming through the windows, and a shard of light glinted along the scythe’s blade.
“Also spiders, snakes, cockroaches, rats,” Phobia went on, rattling off what fears he could detect within the recesses of Narcissa’s mind. “Scorpions. Public humiliation. Drowning.” He chuckled lowly. “Ace Anarchy.”
“Great marvels,” muttered Leroy. “She’s decent at faking courage, at least.”
“But most profoundly,” continued Phobia, and his gritty voice turned mocking, “she has an almost paralyzing fear that she will never experience true love.”
“Oh, she’s one of those.” Honey groaned dramatically. “Unfortunately, it seems that fear is going to come to pass.”
“Wait,” said Nova, lifting a hand. “Narcissa, we’re never giving you that helmet, but maybe we can help each other. Your … Rejects … it sounds like their feud is with the Renegades, not us. You don’t have to die for this.”
Narcissa fixed her with a cold glare. “You should be worrying about yourself, Nightmare. Are you really prepared for the Renegades to know who you are, after you’ve worked so hard to keep it concealed?”
Nova’s palms were sweating. The answer was no, of course she wasn’t ready. She still needed to rescue Ace. She still needed to bring her enemies down.
Then her thoughts went to Adrian. The way he smiled at her. The way he kissed her.
It would be over.
She wasn’t ready.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nova said. “They’re going to find out soon enough. It’s not the bargaining chip you think it is, Narcissa. And we need the helmet. We’re going to free Ace Anarchy, and when we do, he will use that helmet to end the Renegades and their tyranny once and for all.” She spread her fingers, almost pleadingly. “Why not help us do that?”
They held each other’s gaze a long time. Slowly, Narcissa shifted her attention to Phobia. She gulped, then looked back at Honey and Leroy, and finally to Nova again.
Nova could tell that her walls were crumbling. Despite the anger she harbored for the Anarchists and what had happened at the library, she must have seen the logic in Nova’s words, because she appeared to be wavering with temptation and uncertainty.
Whatever she would have said, though, was interrupted by the squeal of tires out on the street.
Narcissa’s lips curved with relief. “Time’s up, Nightmare.”
Something struck the front window. The glass shattered. Nova ducked instinctively, even as Narcissa shoved past her.
A huge rock tumbled a few more inches before coming to stop beside the armchair, just as Narcissa’s red braid disappeared up the stairwell.
Someone whooped outside. There were celebratory cheers, and someone yelling, “Rejects forever! Power to prodigies!” before tires screeched again and the vehicle peeled down the street.
Cursing, Nova launched herself up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She spotted Narcissa crouched on top of Honey’s vanity. One hand was holding the frame of the large mirror, the other gripped a glass mason jar. The gold-and-black butterfly flapped frantically inside.
Nova froze as Narcissa’s eyes filled with intrigue. “They’ve been talking about that