“No.”
Leroy turned to her, surprised.
Pacing to the car, Nova tossed the duffel bag into the trunk and slammed it shut. “As far as any of them know, I’m a Renegade. I don’t need to run, or hide.” She shot one last glare at Ingrid, then nodded at Leroy and Honey. “See you at home.”
She walked away. It wasn’t long before she heard the squeal of tires. She glanced back in time to see the car turning the corner. Ingrid was not inside, but even as Nova scanned the street, she could find no sign of her.
Dragging in a long breath, Nova made her way back to the café where she’d buried her communication band and strapped it back to her wrist. She did not linger long on the city streets, but headed into a nearby alley and up the rickety fire escape of an apartment building, one she’d climbed hundreds of times. When she reached the top, she crossed the roof to where she could see Renegade Headquarters in the distance, the tower lit up in white and red like a beacon. Enormous spotlights around its spire shone disks of white on the clouds overhead.
Nova swung one leg over the concrete parapet and laid down, letting her foot dangle. She turned her face up to the sky and let herself breathe deeply for the first time in what seemed like weeks. Her hair and clothes stank of smoke. Her muscles were wound as tight as springs and she found it difficult to relax now that there was no one to fight, nowhere to run.
Dusk was turning fast to night. Though the sky was full of clouds, to the east those clouds were tinted deep purple and heather gray. Somewhere beyond the gloom, the sun was setting.
And she listened.
To a chorus of dogs barking at one another from building to building. To the screams of a couple who were arguing in the apartments below. To the sirens that echoed up from distant streets. Sirens meant Renegades, and she imagined some patrol unit, somewhere, rushing to help whoever needed it. Maybe even rushing to help their comrades trapped down in the subway tunnels.
She knew Adrian, Ruby, and Oscar wouldn’t have been down there, otherwise she would have been called to action, too, as part of the team. But how many Renegades had been a part of the raid? How many were hurt? How many had died?
Ingrid had set off another war today, and the Anarchists had just won their first battle. Would they be celebrating tonight, without her? Or would they be mourning the loss of their home, the loss of that little bit of independence their arrangement with the Council had afforded them … even, perhaps, the loss of Ingrid?
Nova shut her eyes and thought, if she were a villain worthy of the name, she would be with them now. Celebrating, or mourning.
And if she were a hero, she would be hurrying to help any Renegades who might be trapped and hurt beneath the rubble.
Instead, she listened to the sounds of a city in distress, and did nothing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“THE COUNCIL WILL SEE YOU NOW.”
Adrian looked up. Prism stood before them, a woman whose body was made entirely of crystal that reflected a variety of rainbows when she moved. She had been on the administration staff since Adrian was a kid, and he had one fond memory of a potluck at Blacklight’s apartment in which Prism had entertained Adrian for hours by making Blacklight’s cat chase little dots of colored light around the floor.
Today, though, she was all professionalism as she led Adrian and the others toward the elevator. Once they had piled inside, he looked around at his team. Ruby was biting her lower lip, looking almost fearful. Oscar was leaning against the wall, inspecting his fingernails. And Nova was doing what she always did—observing. Her blue eyes scouring every inch of the elevator, darting from the security camera in the ceiling to the emergency call button on the wall to the series of numbers over the door.
The elevator shot upward so fast Adrian’s stomach swooped. The back wall was made of glass and as they cleared the roof of the next building, the skyline presented itself, all the way to the Stockton Bridge. It was a clear day, and with the sun overhead the city looked almost iridescent, with golden light glinting off thousands of windows and wispy amethyst clouds gliding in from the south.
“You’ve been up here before, haven’t you, Adrian?” asked Prism, light and jovial.
“Nope,” he said.
“Really?” she said. “Not even just to visit?”
“I try not to bother them if it can be avoided.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’re never a bother.” She grinned. The sunlight off her teeth made the wall glitter with pink and yellow spots.
The doors dinged and Prism exited first, her bare feet clipping on the floor.
Adrian took two steps out of the elevator and his breath hitched.
He had heard that Council Hall was a marvel, and he knew there were people who made up all sorts of petitions just for a chance to come and see it, but he still hadn’t been fully prepared. A white-marble walkway stretched out before him, enclosed on either side by a wall of water that spanned from the floor to the high ceiling. The water was not solid like ice, nor was it moving like a waterfall, but rather seemed to just hang there, suspended in space, trembling from the air vibrations as Prism walked past. He wondered what would happen if he touched it. Would it be like bursting a bubble? Would the delicate equilibrium be broken and the wall come crashing down onto the floor? Or would his hand go right through, no different from submerging it in a pool?
He would have to ask one of his dads later.
And then there were the lights—tiny speckles of golden light drifting aimlessly over their heads, reminiscent of winking fireflies. Though not one was any larger than a speck of dust, together they gave the impression of something serene and alive, like glowing algae drifting on a wave. They filled the space with a warm hue, and the reflection off the water made rhythms of light dance along the walkway. The effect was hypnotic and tranquil and Adrian felt more like he had just entered a supernatural day spa than the hall of their official governing body.
At the end of the walkway stood five chromium thrones. He knew he shouldn’t think of them as thrones—the Council got defensive whenever anyone suggested they were trying to become royalty—but he didn’t know how else one could describe the massive seats that sat in a semicircle around a slender podium.
Blacklight and Tsunami sat in the first two chairs on Adrian’s left—no doubt they were responsible for the water and lighting effects in the hall, which only made him more curious. Did the water and floating lights stay when they weren’t around, or did they send them away at night, transforming the hall into … well, just a hall?
Then there was Captain Chromium in the center seat, followed by the Dread Warden, both wearing their superhero faces—kind but stern.
The fifth and final seat was occupied by Thunderbird, her posture stiff and craned slightly forward to leave space for her wings, which were opened and curling around the back of the seat.
Perhaps the most unnerving part of seeing them there was that his dads, like the others, were wearing their iconic superhero uniforms—not the gray bodysuits the current Renegades wore, but the vigilante costumes they had long ago become famous for. The Dread Warden in his black cape and domino mask. The Captain in muscle-defining Lycra and shoulder armor.
Adrian had known their identities since he could remember, since years before he’d even become an official member of their family. Just like he’d known that his mom was the amazing and ferocious Lady Indomitable. They never tried to keep it a secret. But despite knowing the facts of their alter egos, there had always been a disconnect in his mind. A gap between the superheroes the world idolized and the adoptive dads who wore sweatpants and stained T-shirts and who had a monthly tradition of eating an entire tray of cinnamon rolls for dinner while watching cheesy sci-fi movies.
“Announcing to the Council,” said Prism, “Mr. Adrian Everhart. Mr. Oscar Silva. Miss Ruby Tucker. And Miss Nova McLain.” She stepped aside, motioning for them to approach the podium.
Adrian stepped in front of the others, though he could f
eel their presence as they filed in around him.
Kasumi was the first to speak. “Welcome, Renegades,” she said—congenial enough, but so formal. It felt surreal to be standing there before them, in this magnificent hall. Kasumi, Evander, and Tamaya had all been to their house for a dozen dinner parties. He’d met their spouses at backyard barbecues. He’d babysat Tamaya’s kids when he was younger.
But they weren’t those same people here. They were Tsunami and Blacklight and Thunderbird. They were the Council. It almost made Adrian laugh, which is how he realized how nervous he really was.
“We are here,” said Captain Chromium, “to discuss what happened at the Cloven Cross Library. I have already informed the Council of what you told me, but I think we all want to hear it again, from your perspective. I hope you all can recognize the tricky position you’ve put us in. On one hand, we are of course grateful that a major supplier of black-market weaponry has been shut down, and that your efforts revealed the active status of the Detonator and the Anarchists.”
“On the other hand,” said the Dread Warden, “you were expressly ordered not to engage with the Librarian, and not to even enter the library without backup. You disobeyed a direct order, and as such, we feel some consequences are in order.”
“First things first,” said Kasumi. “We want to commend you for following the protocol of prioritizing the safety of civilians. We understand you all acted fast to clear the library of innocent bystanders, and we have heard how Miss McLain went back into the library to rescue a young boy from the fire. We praise you for your bravery and selflessness.”
Adrian glanced sideways at Nova, sending her a small smile, but she kept her gaze straight ahead and her expression neutral.
“That said,” continued Kasumi, “we cannot overlook the protocols that went ignored, or how the need for rescuing said civilians might have been avoided entirely had you acted more responsibly.”
Adrian swallowed.
“It’s important that we get all the facts straight,” said Tamaya. “You aren’t in trouble, necessarily.” She paused, and Adrian had the distinct impression that she was glancing over the word yet. “But it is of utmost importance that we all abide by our own rules. Otherwise, we’d be no better than the Anarchists.”
Beside him, Nova tensed, and he heard her mutter, “Because that would be terrible.”
Tamaya’s eyebrows lifted. “What was that, Miss McLain?”
“Nothing,” said Nova. “Just agreeing with you. Rules, consequences, etcetera. All sounds very authoritarian.”
“Mr. Everhart,” said Tamaya, and it took Adrian a moment to realize she meant him, not the Captain. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
Adrian inhaled deeply and told them—starting with their surveillance in the office building that turned up nothing all night. He mentioned the patrons they’d seen enter the library, including a group of children. Then they saw the Detonator.
“Did you recognize her?” interrupted Evander. “Had you ever seen Ingrid Thompson before?”
“Only in pictures,” said Adrian, “but I knew it was her. Those armbands, you know.”
“So you suspected it was the Detonator,” clarified Evander.
“No,” said Adrian slowly, “it was the Detonator.”
Evander leaned against the back of his chair, scratching his red beard. Adrian went on, explaining their conversation, as well as he could remember, and their decision to enter the library.
“Why didn’t you wait for backup?” said Simon. “That was all we asked of you, Adrian.”
Adrian sank inward a bit. The question felt more personal than professional. A father disappointed that his son had broken a promise. And in this case, that broken promise might have gotten him killed.
“We were afraid the lives of those children were in danger,” said Ruby. “We didn’t know what the Detonator had gone there for. We didn’t know if she would do something … rash.”
“Like blow up the building,” added Oscar. “Just as an example.”
“We were also concerned that the Detonator would leave before backup arrived,” said Adrian. “We didn’t know how long she would be at the library and we were worried we would miss our chance to … to prove she was there. That she was dealing with the Librarian.”
“But you were a surveillance team,” said Tamaya. “You were intended only to conduct surveillance, not to engage.”
“We were a patrol team before that,” said Adrian. “And we’ve been taught that when we see someone conducting illegal or dangerous activity, we stop it.”
Tamaya frowned but, after a second, she seemed to give credence to this point. “Go on, then. What happened after you entered the library?”
They told them. About Narcissa and Gene Cronin acting suspicious. About the basement and the room full of weapons and how the Detonator was waiting for them. About the explosions. The battle. Their attempts to clear the library of civilians. The lost child and how Nova and the others had managed to save him, and how Adrian had been trapped inside during the search.
This was, of course, not strictly true, but he stuck firm to his story, while Nova went on to tell them about the showdown between the Detonator and the Sentinel above the theater. Truly, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted his dads to realize that he had gone back into the library even after it had collapsed. Even protected by the Sentinel’s armor he knew it was a risk, but he also knew it was the only way to convince them he had been inside the library the whole time. He had stayed inside the suit while he drew the igloo, hoping he would be found before the ice melted away, but also knowing that, if worse came to worst, he could always transform back into the Sentinel again.
He hadn’t needed to, though. They’d found him.
The Captain had found him, and Adrian still felt guilty for the worry he must have caused them all.
“What else did the Sentinel say?” asked the Dread Warden.
Adrian peered at Nova, watching for some sign of how she felt about his alter ego—beyond the fact that she’d shot him.
Multiple times.
But Nova was unreadable. “He mostly just wanted to know about Nightmare. Who she is, where he can find her.”
“Popular gal,” muttered Oscar.
Nova’s lips twitched. “He fought her at the parade, didn’t he? I think maybe he’s embarrassed that she beat him.”
“She didn’t—” started Adrian.
Nova glanced at him, but he pressed his lips into a firm line.
Clearing his throat, he started again, “I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”
Nova shrugged. “Either way, he didn’t get anything useful out of Cronin. The Detonator shot the Librarian before he could say anything. Then she ran. I shot at her but only managed to get her in the arm, and Ruby and Oscar weren’t able to stop her, either. Then Narcissa got away. Then…” She scowled. “… the Sentinel got away, too.”
“And in your opinion,” said Tamaya, folding her fingers together, “if you had waited and called for backup as you were intended to, would the Detonator and the Sentinel and the Librarian’s granddaughter all have slipped through our fingers? Would the library be in ruins, along with what we can assume was volumes of evidence that might have led to the arrests, not only of Gene Cronin, but perhaps countless criminals and villains that have been trading with him all these years? To that effect, do you think Gene Cronin would be dead if you had assistance, or would he currently be in custody, where we could question him for further information?”
Adrian didn’t answer. None of them did. He didn’t really think they were expected to. His attention slid to his dads. Simon was rubbing his cheek. Hugh was tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair.
Finally, it was Simon who cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “We will never know what different outcomes might have occurred had you acted differently. We do know that, because of you, Gene Cronin and all those weapons will never be a threat to the people of this
city again.”
Tamaya scoffed. “One positive in an otherwise egregious mess.”
“What do you propose, Thunderbird?” said Hugh. “We all agree that they went against our orders and acted irresponsibly. At the same time, Adrian made a strong point—they were trained as a patrol unit first and foremost. They had reason to believe that illegal activity was happening inside that library, and they acted on it. It is difficult to fault that.”
“Then perhaps,” said Kasumi, “the solution here is not to punish them for their mistakes, but to encourage their strengths by returning them to their regular patrol duties. Perhaps we should not have transferred them to this case in the first place, and our error can be remedied by removing them from it.”
“No,” said Adrian, his shoulders tensing. “We want to see this through. We want to find Nightmare.”
“We know you do,” said Simon. “But if you cannot be trusted—”
“We can be trusted. Look, we acted prematurely, we get it. Message received. It won’t happen again.” He reached for the small podium, gripping its sides. “But I still believe we can find her.”
“Adrian,” said Hugh, his tone firm. “You were reckless, and I have to assume that is in part because of how … personal this assignment is becoming for you. Finding Nightmare is not worth risking your life.”
“We’ll be more careful next time. I promise.”
Hugh frowned and exchanged looks with the others. It was, in the end, Blacklight who suggested three days of probation for the team from street work and patrol duty, though they could continue to use any resources at headquarters to further their investigation as needed. The ruling was agreed upon, and they were dismissed, but Adrian stayed at the podium.
“What about the Anarchists?” he said. “What about the Detonator?”
Hugh sighed. “We attempted to apprehend them last night, but they were expecting us. I’m afraid the Detonator got away, as did the rest. We will be releasing a report to all patrol units this morning, encouraging them to be on full alert so long as these villains are at large.” A shadow passed over his face. “Unfortunately, many of our finest Renegades were injured in the altercation. We had become complacent with regards to the Anarchists, believing they could not be a great threat without Ace Anarchy at their helm. It’s now clear how wrong we were.”