I know with Max and Nightmare and everything, this may not be the best time, but I was up all night thinking about what you said at the gala, and I have a plan.” He fixed his attention on Nova, and she stiffened in response, wondering what on earth she had said. Though the gala had been just the night before, only a couple of hours before she’d broken into the HQ vault, it felt like weeks had passed since then.
“A plan for what?” she asked.
“You know,” said Oscar, insistent. “Telling Ruby how … how I feel about her. Nova was right. I’m awesome, and I am ready to sweep her off her feet.”
“Oh, that.” Nova glanced at Adrian, who appeared equally relieved that Oscar’s plan was for something so mundane. “That’s great.”
“Yeah, go for it, Oscar,” said Adrian. “Way to take the plunge.”
“Thanks, man. So, I’m calling it…” Oscar lifted his hand, as if highlighting invisible words in the air. “Operation Crown Jewels.”
Nova and Adrian gawked at him, speechless for a moment, before Adrian cleared his throat. “Uh … what?”
“You know. Crown jewels … rubies … get it?”
Nova’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Isn’t that a euphemism for…”
Oscar waited for her to finish, looking so adorably emphatic that she stopped herself. “Never mind. Just … why is there an operation name?”
“Because I have ideas,” said Oscar. “Like, a gazillion ideas. This is going to be a calculated, multistep strategy.”
“So you’re not just going to ask her out?” said Adrian.
Oscar snorted. “Please. Ruby deserves better than that. There will be serenades, gifts, cloud writing … you know, some real grand gestures. The stuff girls go nuts for, right?” He looked at Nova, but she could only shrug. He sighed. “Okay, so I thought we’d start with a poem. I wrote it at, like, five o’clock this morning, so keep that in mind. But I was thinking of leaving a card on her doorstep some morning this week. Here’s what I’ve got so far.” He cleared his throat. “Rubies are red, your eyes are blue…”
“Stop,” said Nova.
Oscar froze. “What?”
“Her eyes are hazel,” she said. “And also, this is not really the time for poetry.” She gestured around at the destruction.
Oscar huffed. “But you didn’t even—”
A burst of red and blue sparks exploded over their heads. Nova ducked, panic rising.
Adrian squeezed her hand and sent her a look that bordered on teasing. “Just Blacklight.”
At the front of the lobby, the five Council members were standing on the street-level balcony, silhouetted by a wall of glass and the hazy afternoon sun. Shadows of journalists and curious civilians could be seen on the sidewalk, held back by caution tape and a handful of Renegades tasked with keeping out anyone who wasn’t a part of the organization.
As the remnants of his fireworks dissolved, Blacklight angled his palm to the doors and dragged his fingers through the air, as if shutting an imaginary set of blinds. A veil of darkness fell over the windows, obscuring both the sunlight and the citizenry.
“Thank you, Evander,” said Captain Chromium, stepping to the front of the balcony, with the rest of the Council forming a semicircle around him. Nova scrutinized the Captain and the Dread Warden—the two adoptive fathers of both Adrian and Max. Though she could guess that neither of them had slept the night before, the exhaustion that was evident on the Dread Warden was lacking entirely from the Captain. His skin was as luminescent as ever, his baby-blue eyes as striking and bright. Only his slightly disheveled hair suggested he was less composed than usual.
But the Dread Warden wasn’t the only one who looked exhausted. Thunderbird’s black-feathered wings were drooping from her shoulder blades, and the ever-present serenity was, for once, gone from Tsunami’s face, replaced with a taut brow and tense lips. Even Blacklight, usually the most laid-back among them, had his arms crossed tight over his chest.
“Fellow Renegades,” said the Captain, his voice booming through the lobby. “A great blow was dealt to us last night. I won’t bother to sugarcoat the details—you can see the truth of last night’s events for yourselves. It is”—his mouth tightened as he searched for a word—“discouraging, to say the least. That we could be infiltrated on such a level by a single villain. That Nightmare was able to disarm our security system and defeat one of our best patrol units. That she could steal from us. That she could”—his voice snagged—“harm one of our own, in such a cruel, senseless