Renegades (Renegades #1)(36)
Author: Marissa Meyer
Simon’s brow furrowed thoughtfully and Adrian could see that this, at least, seemed to carry some merit with him.
“Why are you so interested in the Nightmare case?” said Hugh, throwing another batch of mail into the garbage bin.
“My team has faced off against her twice now,” said Adrian. “It’s starting to feel a little personal. Besides … she attacked you.”
Hugh snorted dismissively, and Adrian couldn’t tell if it was a show, or if he really didn’t feel that Nightmare’s attack warranted concern.
“I’m serious, Dad. If you hadn’t noticed, she almost killed you.”
A muscle flexed in Hugh’s jaw.
“And she took down Tamaya with … with a fishing net,” Adrian went on. “Not to mention being partially responsible for Monarch’s injuries, and managing to evade Oscar and Ruby and”—he inhaled sharply, rolling one hand through the air in a gesture that he hoped showed some amount of indifference—“that Sentinel guy too. Her power might not seem like much, but she is a threat. We can’t underestimate her again.”
“We’re not underestimating her,” said Simon. “We are taking the attempted assassination very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that it would be irresponsible to send an inexperienced street patrol unit to do an investigative job.”
Adrian tensed, heat rising into his cheeks. “Over the last year I think our team has more than proved our ability to handle any assignment sent our way.”
“Except for the two times Nightmare got away?” said Simon.
Adrian scowled. “Low blow, Pops.”
Simon’s expression softened. “Look, we’re not saying that we don’t think you could handle this. If anything, we’d rather keep you out on patrol duty, where your skills are truly used to everyone’s advantage. Did you know crime rates went up eight percent last quarter? We need every unit on the streets we can get.”
“And how much could a guy like Gene Cronin be playing into those rates?” Adrian said, forcing himself to speak slowly. To sound rational. “If he really is selling illegal weaponry to criminals, how much good could be done just by capturing this one guy?”
“And for that,” said Hugh, “we’ll be sending an investigative unit.”
Adrian sighed in frustration. “Come on, give it to us. Please.”
“Adrian, what does it matter?” said Simon. “You said yourself, no one wants to be staring at a library all night when they could be out helping people.”
“Because I want to be a part of this,” said Adrian, losing the battle to keep his voice even. “Because I want to find Nightmare.”
Simon drew back, his head tilting to one side, and Adrian noticed for the first time just how unruly his beard had gotten. He glanced at Hugh and saw that his own hair was in need of a cut, his face in need of a shave.
When was the last time either of them had taken a day to just relax? To just be? It was always the Council, the city, the Renegades. Adrian could only imagine the pressure they were under, along with the rest of the Council. The whole world was looking to them for guidance and protection, for security and stability and justice.
He sighed, dragging his fork through the crumbs that had fallen from the scone. “Oscar heard her say something during their fight on the rooftop,” he said, hoping beyond hope that they would never bother to confirm this lie. “She said … one cannot be brave who has no fear.”
He didn’t need to look up at his dads to feel the shift in the air. Hugh inhaled sharply. Simon sank away from the bar, leaning against the back of his stool.
Hugh drummed his fingers against the countertop. “You don’t think Nightmare was connected to her death, do you? From what I can tell, she’s much too young to have been involved.”
“No, I know she is,” said Adrian. “But what if she knows who did it? What if they’re still alive?”
“It could be a coincidence,” said Simon.
“Or it might not,” countered Adrian.
Simon massaged the spot between his thick eyebrows, where he always rubbed when he was deep in thought. “Cards like the one found on Georgia were also found on countless bodies during the Age of Anarchy. Maybe Nightmare read about them somewhere and is … adopting the phrase for herself.”
Adrian looked away. There was a logic to this suggestion, and it probably should have occurred to him as a possibility much sooner. But … somehow, it didn’t feel right. When Nightmare had said it, she hadn’t been using it as a catchphrase, something she hoped would be quoted in the newspapers the next day. Rather, it had seemed so flippant, so unplanned. Words that came naturally, in the way that things heard repetitively over time often did.
“It would be out of character,” said Hugh, “for a villain to stop leaving their mark like that, if they were still around.”
“I know,” said Adrian. “But not impossible.”
It was the reason everyone had been so quick to assume that Lady Indomitable’s murderer had been killed in the Battle for Gatlon. After that, those mysterious notes had stopped showing up on bodies. Overnight, those dreadful clues vanished. It made sense that whoever had been leaving them was gone.
But Adrian was no longer sure.
“Please,” he said. “I just want to find her. I need to know where she heard those words. I need to know what they mean to her. And you’re sending a team to investigate anyway, right? Give us a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
Hugh picked up his still-steaming coffee and drank it all in three large gulps, which was how Adrian knew he was considering his request, though the action itself made Adrian flinch. Like so many things, Hugh was invincible to something as simple as burning his tongue on a scorching cup of coffee.
When he set the cup back down, Hugh looked across at Simon.
And that look, blank as it was, told Adrian all he needed to know. It was a struggle to bite back the smile that threatened to emerge.
Simon wilted. “Your team may be excused from street patrol for two weeks in order to assist with the Nightmare investigation. We’ll have surveillance protocols sent to you by noon, and we expect regular reports on any findings, no matter how trivial they may seem. After two weeks, we’ll determine if you can continue this investigation or be returned to your city patrol.”
Adrian started to smile, but Simon held up a hand, halting it halfway up his face.
“But I mean this, Adrian. At the very first indication that Gene Cronin is involved in any sort of illegal activity, or should you find any evidence suggesting a connection to Nightmare or any other villain, you are to request backup from an experienced investigative team. You are not to engage Cronin on your own. Understand?”
“Yes, absolutely,” said Adrian, allowing that grin to shine through. “We will. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank us yet,” said Hugh. “You haven’t yet learned just how painfully tedious this sort of work can be.”
Adrian shrugged. “Oscar will be there. How boring can it possibly be?”
Hugh smirked. “Good point.”
“We need to get going,” said Simon. “A full roster of Council petitions today, and countless meetings with research and development, and working out details on next month’s gala…” He groaned. “Sometimes I think it will never end.”
“It’s not easy, leading the world into a new age,” said Hugh. He shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth, then dumped his empty plate into the sink.
Adrian watched his dads gather up their things, donning black blazers and scarves over their uniforms in a way that seemed laughable—like kids putting winter jackets on over their Halloween costumes.
They were about to leave when Simon paused and glanced back, his eyes speculative. “Adrian…”
Adrian sat up straighter, preparing himself as he watched Simon wrestling with whatever it was he wanted to say.
“I want you to tread carefully with this, all right?”
Adrian’s brow knit. “What do you mean?”
“No matter what happens, no matter what you find, nothing is going to bring your mom back. I know you want answers. We all do. But it won’t change the fact that she’s gone.”
“This isn’t about wanting her back,” said Adrian. “It’s not really about wanting answers, either. If anything, I just want the same thing every Renegade does.” Adrian allowed a faint smile. “Justice.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NOVA STOOD ON THE SIDEWALK outside Renegade Headquarters for longer than she probably should have, ignoring the people that moved around her, grumbling at the girl in their way or the tourists who clustered beside the bus stops to take pictures of the red letters hung over the massive glass doors.