“To see if I can give myself a tattoo that’s … you know, more than just a tattoo.” He lightly pressed his thumb over the bandage, before pulling his sleeve back down. “I thought this one could be useful in a fight. Something that I could use for protection, if I needed it.”
Nova stared, not sure if she understood. “So … you’ve tattooed a tower on your arm, in an experimental attempt to … do what, again?”
“Well, if it works,” said Adrian, flashing her a cheeky grin, “it will be sort of like giving myself another superpower. In theory, I’ll be able to use it to create a barrier around myself and anyone who’s near me, that will deflect attacks from other prodigies.”
She leaned against the window. “That’s … an interesting theory.”
He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Nova had the distinct impression that there was something he wasn’t telling her. “I guess we’ll see how it goes. It should be healed enough to test out in another day or two.”
“You don’t seem all that concerned that maybe you’ve just tattooed a medieval castle on yourself for no real reason.”
He chuckled, and he seemed to want to say something, but she could sense his uncertainty. Finally, he answered, “Well, also, tattoos make a guy look tough, don’t they?”
She laughed. “Sure they do.”
The roar of the engines suddenly quieted. Nova was startled to see that they were already at the dock. The fog had mostly cleared, revealing the buildings along the pier and the skyscrapers beyond. The sun had peeked over the horizon, its beams slashing through the lingering mist.
She clutched her bouquet of flowers and followed Adrian off the boat. She realized with a swell of disappointment that none of the figures she’d seen loitering on the dock had been the so-called families she’d imagined. They were all strangers—a Renegade administrator who asked her to sign a form stating she was returned safely to the mainland following her release, a dockworker who set about mooring the boat, and the media.
A few dozen journalists and photographers were gathered, already snapping pictures of Nova and screaming questions that quickly blurred into nonsense.
Adrian placed a hand on her lower back, steering her past the crowd. “You don’t have to talk to them,” he murmured in her ear, and Nova wondered just how many newspapers and tabloids would carry this picture in the coming days. Adrian Everhart whispering into the ear of the girl who was previously suspected of being Nightmare herself … not to mention the yellow daisies. She flushed, doing her best to ignore the yells behind her—Nova! Miss McLain! Insomnia!
“We have a car over there,” said Adrian, pointing to a small parking lot, as they made their way past the rows of moored boats, their wooden hulls thumping hollowly against each other in the water.
But just as Adrian was steering Nova toward the lot, an unfamiliar figure stepped out from a waiting taxicab on the other side of the street. “Nova!” he cried, rushing toward her. “Oh, thank heavens!”
Nova froze, frowning not so much at the man, but at the way he’d said her name. Like he knew her.
She scanned his face. He must have been in his late fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and an unkempt beard. He was dressed in jeans and loafers and a sweater that was tattered and faded and almost certainly not warm enough for the weather.
Nova was sure she’d never seen him before.
She tensed, one hand reaching for the stun gun at her belt, only to remember how she’d tossed all her weapons into the duffel bag and sent it off in the trunk of Leroy’s car.
As soon as he reached her, the man grasped Nova’s hand affectionately. His skin was leathery, feeling much older than his features suggested. “I’m so relieved,” he said. “I thought I’d never see you again!”
To her surprise, there were tears in his gray-blue eyes.
Perhaps reading Nova’s bewilderment, Adrian took hold of her elbow, gently tugging her closer to him. “I’m sorry, you are…?”
“Her uncle,” said the man, beaming and holding out a hand for Adrian to shake. “You must be Adrian.”
Nova stiffened. Her uncle?
When Adrian hesitantly accepted the handshake, the man pumped it with enthusiasm. “She’s told me so much. Never stops talking about you. It’s so great to finally meet you face-to-face. And on such a happy occasion!” His smile grew wider, and before Nova could fully grasp what was happening,