“Nothing.” He cringed, hating the lie almost as much as he hated the truth. “I was going to say … I just wish I could tell Nova about it. I think she’d be really happy to see him free for a change.”
The team fell quiet for a long while, until Ruby’s small voice asked, “Have you talked to your dads about … about the execution? They’re not really going to … are they?”
Adrian scowled at the floor. “It seems they are. Unless she gives us something useful.”
“And she hasn’t confessed yet?” Ruby asked.
He shook his head.
“Are you going to go?” said Oscar. “To the … you know.”
Adrian peered over the frames of his glasses. “It’s not just an execution. It’s the public unveiling of Agent N. So, yeah. I think I’m pretty much expected to be there.”
“Yeah, but … people would understand if you decided not to,” said Ruby, and though she was trying to be gentle, this conversation was making Adrian’s stomach churn with every passing moment.
“Why?” he asked. “She didn’t betray me any more than she betrayed you guys, or everyone else for that matter.”
The others exchanged looks.
“I mean,” said Oscar, “she sort of did. She was, like, your girlfriend.”
Adrian’s jaw clenched. “I’m done talking about this.”
Danna’s palm settled on his forearm. He tensed, but didn’t pull away.
“I’m really sorry,” she said. “We all liked her, you know. It wasn’t just you. I can’t say that I fully trusted her, but I did like her. I’m just … I’m really sorry it was her.”
Adrian opened his mouth to reply, though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He was sorry, too? It wasn’t Danna’s fault? It didn’t really matter?
He cleared his throat, eager to change the subject. “Ruby, earlier you said you’d do anything for Max. Did you mean that?”
“Anything within reason,” she said with suspicion. “Why?”
Adrian squared his shoulders. “You know how I’ve been giving myself these tattoos so I can—”
He was interrupted by the sound of clapping—slow and methodical clapping that echoed through the department store.
Adrian spun around and spotted a shadowy figure stepping down from a platform of mannequins. The mannequins were wearing ripped jeans and sleek sequined tops, but the figure was dressed entirely in black.
Black boots and pants. Black belt and fingerless gloves.
Black hood.
And a silver mask over the bottom half of her face.
Adrian froze.
He felt his team tense around him. Ruby and Oscar were already off the table, wisps of smoke pooling at Oscar’s feet and Ruby’s wire pulled taut between her fingers.
“Your sentiments are so sweet,” said … said … Nightmare?
She stood a hundred paces away, the city lights from outside the window glinting off her metal face mask and the familiar weapons slung across her hips. The black hood overshadowed her face, making it impossible to see her eyes. Adrian blinked, resisting the urge to remove his glasses and clean their lenses.
“You all liked her,” Nightmare cooed. “You’re all so very sorry it was her.” She tsked a few times. “Well, I hate to be a nonconformist, but to be honest, I wasn’t all that sorry. Nova McLain deserves everything she got.”
Adrian’s mouth was so dry he didn’t think he could speak, even if he’d had something to say. Even if the only word resonating in his thoughts wasn’t, simply, Impossible.
Impossible. Impossible. Impossible.
It wasn’t Nova. That much was clear, not only because Nova was imprisoned on an island two miles off the coast, but also because the voice didn’t match. Now that he was standing right in front of Nightmare. Now that he could take a moment to compare what he’d only had vague memories of before, the difference was clear.
Still sardonic. Still dry.
But not Nova.
“My compliments on your impressive capture of those two lowlifes,” Nightmare said, and it took Adrian a moment to remember the unconscious burglars. “I doubt two non-prodigies were all that difficult to apprehend, but nevertheless, it’s nice to witness one of the rare occasions when the Renegades don’t show total incompetence.”
“Who are you?” said Danna, her voice cutting through the haze in Adrian’s thoughts, reminding him where they were, who they were. Renegades. Heroes.
Facing a villain.
The same villain. Always Nightmare. Again and again.
He began to wonder if maybe he was dreaming, but a quick squeeze over his newest tattoo, still sore to the touch, ensured that he was very much awake.
“You know who I am,” Nightmare drawled. Then she chuckled, settling a hand on the pouch at her hip from where Adrian