to be covered in more of her bee friends than usual—nine or ten were caught in her blonde hair and Nova spied at least a dozen more wandering around her neck and shoulders. “If I believed in miracles, I would say we’ve accomplished one. You’re free!”
“I’m free,” Nova agreed, as Leroy dropped down beside them.
“And oh, flowers! Did Leroy think to bring you those? How thoughtful.”
Nova glanced at Leroy. Now that she was back in villain territory, the last thing she wanted to do was confess that, actually, the flowers were from Adrian Everhart.
Leroy winked at her and said nothing.
“I’ll find something to put them in,” said Honey, taking the bouquet from her. It was immediately set upon by a flurry of enthusiastic honeybees.
The pawnshop’s basement was not so much a basement as a bomb shelter, with thick concrete walls and a couple of hallways leading off in various directions. Nova surmised that the shelter must run nearly the full city block. In this central area there were some rickety folding chairs, worn rugs crisscrossing one another across the floor, and crates of food and supplies against one wall.
But what was more surprising to her than learning that her allies had taken up residence in the bomb shelter beneath Dave’s Pawnshop was learning that they were not alone.
Nova was greeted by at least thirty faces, almost all of them strangers, who stared back at her, largely expressionless. Nova recognized signs of inherent abilities. A girl a few years her senior had thick auburn hair that floated like seaweed in the air. One man had a growth of fungi covering his right arm. A boy who was probably thirteen or fourteen had gigantic eyes, with pupils shaped like six-pointed stars.
There were more subtle indicators, too. A tattoo of two arrows crossed on a paper scroll—a symbol of the Vandal Cartel, which had been the Librarian’s gang years ago. Two young boys dressed in shimmery gold robes, reminiscent of the Harbingers. Nova knew that some of the villain gangs that hadn’t been vanquished on the Day of Triumph had gone underground, still existing, still struggling to survive. They had been in hiding, stealing when they had to, fighting for their needs, existing in the shadows—many going through life hiding the fact that they were prodigies, so as not to draw the attention of the Renegades who would surely label them as villains.
But she’d never heard of them banding together into a unified group. Had this been happening without the Anarchists’ knowledge all this time?
She spotted Phobia lurking in a back corner, his scythe glinting over the heads of the crowd. Nova gulped. Adrian’s words, coursing with anger, came back to her.
One cannot be brave who has no fear … Those words were found on a slip of paper left on my mother’s body.
How many times had she heard Phobia say that? It was a phrase she had grown up with, one that had struck her as both truthful and encouraging. It was okay to be afraid sometimes, for only then could you choose to be brave.
But the words held a very different meaning for Adrian.
Had Phobia killed Lady Indomitable? Had he murdered Adrian’s mom?
Nova wondered whether she would ask him if ever given the chance. She wondered how much she really wanted to know.
Turning to Leroy, she asked, “Does someone want to explain to me what’s going on?”
But it was not Leroy who answered.
“Maybe we should start with the enormous thank-you you owe us.”
Nova spun around.
Narcissa Cronin was shoulder to shoulder with the star-eyed boy and an older woman who could have been anybody’s grandmother, except she was standing in this dingy room surrounded by villains. Narcissa’s arms were crossed and her face showed the same loathing it had the last time they’d crossed paths, when Narcissa had attacked Nova at her house and some unknown allies of hers had thrown a rock through the window.
“We did save your life,” said Narcissa, with a sour twist to her lips. It was still odd to see her fuming with anger, when she’d seemed so docile before. It was almost like she was wearing a mask.
Speaking of masks, Nova began to wonder where her costume was. Narcissa must have used it to impersonate Nightmare, but that meant that Leroy and Honey had given it to her willingly.
“Thank you,” Nova said, though it sounded a bit mechanical. “But I still don’t know what’s going on.”
“We had to save your life,” said Honey, who had found