“Of course not. He’s a vigilante—he hasn’t followed our code from day one.”
“Right. Yes. The media says that. I’d just assumed…” Dr. Sutner trailed off.
“He’s not a Renegade. He’s not one of us.” Hugh’s voice took on an edge of resentment. “Maybe he’s done some good for us, but … it’s hard not to criticize his methods. He should have joined the organization, rather than going off on his own. It’s given people a lot of ideas about heroics and crime fighting, and that’s dangerous when it isn’t left in the hands of the professionals. People have been getting hurt, and it’s going to get worse.”
Adrian wished he could break out his mirror so he’d be able to see his dad’s expression, but he couldn’t use both the mirror and the ear trumpet. Still, he had a feeling he could tell what his dad was thinking. There had been a lot of talk about the Sentinel’s capture of the world’s most revered villain. It felt a little unjust, as Oscar, Ruby, and Danna had all helped him do it and should have gotten part of the credit. But after finding out that Adrian was the Sentinel, it had been Ruby’s idea to leave the Renegades a note for when they came to get Ace Anarchy. It had read,
CONSIDER THIS A
PEACE OFFERING.
—THE SENTINEL
That way, as Ruby explained, they would know that the Sentinel was on their side. That he wasn’t a villain. That they needed to stop hunting him.
Despite her good intentions, though, the note only seemed to have irritated the Council more. People thought that maybe the Sentinel was mocking them by tracking down their worst enemy, an enemy the Renegades had long believed dead. On top of that, the rise in vigilantism had skyrocketed these past months, as news of the Sentinel’s victories over criminals had spread. People were beginning to feel like the Renegades and their code weren’t enough. There needed to be more drastic measures taken if they were ever going to stop the spread of crime in their city.
It would have been flattering, except not everyone was made to be a superhero, and plenty of good intentions had led to civilians being severely wounded. One ambitious man had nearly been killed while trying to stop a carjacking, and an innocent woman had been shot in the arm when an enthusiastic vigilante had wrongly assumed that she was trying to break into his neighbor’s apartment. (In reality, the neighbor had asked her to dog-sit for a few days.)
The more people tried to take matters into their own hands, the more stories like that emerged.
It wasn’t that Renegades never made mistakes, but for the first time since Adrian had donned the Sentinel’s armor, he was beginning to understand why the Council placed so much importance on their code.
“Your staff knows to keep an eye out for him?” said Hugh, drawing Adrian’s attention back to their conversation.
“Just like you asked. There’s been no sign. Though … if he were to come to the hospital, we probably wouldn’t recognize him.”
“I know, but I just have a feeling he will … It’s common heroic behavior, to want to see the people you’ve rescued. I see it in Renegades all the time, how they want to maintain connections with the ones they’ve been personally involved in helping. Something tells me the Sentinel will try to see Max again.”
“Which begs the question, Captain,” said the doctor, sounding a bit hesitant. “How was he able to bring Max all the way here without being affected by the boy’s powers?”
Hugh was silent for a long time, though Adrian sensed it was more because he was debating what information to reveal, rather than mulling over the question itself. Finally, he admitted simply, “We don’t know. There are a lot of things about him that we don’t know. I guess what we do know is that in the course of one night, he managed to capture Ace Anarchy and save my son’s life. In spite of everything … how dangerous he is, how misguided … I can’t help but hope that someday I might have a chance to thank him.”
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS NOVA’S first time returning to the weapons and artifacts department since the night she’d stolen Ace’s helmet. Her insides were knotted as she rode the elevator up to the warehouse endearingly known as the vault. Her Renegade uniform felt like it was strangling her, the fabric tightening around her limbs, digging into her ribs and throat until she could barely move.
The words on the mirror were etched into her thoughts, and there was a part of her, a big part, that wondered if maybe Honey was right. Maybe it was time to give up. She didn’t really think she could save Ace, did she? Especially not before she was discovered. And now to have some unknown jerk stalking and threatening her made her wonder if it was all worth it.
Though she toyed with her own fate often enough, she loathed the idea that someone else now held her fate in their hands. That simply wouldn’t do.
She had gone over a lot of scenarios in her mind the night before, most of which ended in her discovering who the blackmailer was and dousing them with one of Leroy’s most painful concoctions. Because the idea of giving in to their demands, even if just to placate them temporarily, disgusted her. She was an Anarchist. She was one of the most feared villains of Gatlon City.
She did not placate.
And she certainly didn’t follow the orders of phantoms who broke into her bedroom and left annoying messages.
But every time her anger ran away with her, she gritted her teeth and reeled it back in. She didn’t need retribution right now. She needed time.
The elevator dinged and she squared her shoulders, dragging in a breath until it felt like her lungs would pop.
She was still holding it when the doors opened, revealing the small reception area outside the warehouse—Snapshot’s desk, as cluttered as ever, and the desk that was mostly Nova’s, as barren as ever.
Snapshot wasn’t there, and neither was Wonder Boy, as Nova had taken to calling Callum in her head.
She exhaled and moved toward the desk.
She wasn’t ready to see Callum, though she knew she would have to eventually. Not only because they worked together most days, but because she needed to pretend to pry him for information about Nightmare. It would require a careful dance. Letting him know about Adrian’s suspicions, leading him to believe that, yes, Nightmare might be a spy in their midst, one who may even have had access to the vault. All while keeping his suspicions away from her.
She wasn’t sure she could pull it off. She’d gotten good at lying, but she didn’t know if she was that good.
Maybe it wouldn’t matter today. Maybe she wouldn’t see him. Maybe she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye and force herself to smile, all the while remembering the moment when he had tried to stop her from taking the helmet and she had been forced to put him to sleep because of it.
She didn’t usually feel guilt when she used her power, especially on Renegades, but she did with Callum. He had used his power on her to make Nova see how maybe the world could be different. How maybe her life could be different, if she chose a different path. And the worst thing was knowing that it wasn’t Callum putting the thoughts into her mind; it was knowing that they’d been there all along.
And knowing that she wasn’t going to do anything about it.
When she had chosen to continue with her plan and take the helmet, it had felt like a betrayal of Callum and all his annoying goodness. It had also felt like a betrayal of some small part of herself. The part of herself that still sometimes dreamed of living a life without vengeance. A life where she and Adrian had a future. Maybe, even, a life of peace.
But that dream, she knew now as strongly as ever, would never be. The truth was closing in around her. Her lies couldn’t go on forever. Besides, peace and acceptance wouldn’t bring back the family she had lost.
No matter, she told herself, again and again. Taking the helmet was supposed to be the end of this charade. At the time, she was sure that she would never have to face Callum again—or Adrian, for that matter.
But nothing ever went according to plan, and now there were consequences. There were always consequences, and she couldn’t stop to think about it. She had to keep moving. Keep going through the motions. Lie. Steal. Betray.
Because that’s how she would free Ace.
That’s how she would destroy the Renegades.
That’s how she would end this ongoing battle in her thoughts. The war between Nightmare and Insomnia. Hero and villain. She had already made her choice.
Nova fell into the chair at her desk and woke up the computer. She opened a memorandum template and quickly typed up the note she’d already planned out in her head. She scanned the text when she was done and decided to add a small typo, because Tina, the director of the artifacts department, was always a little scatterbrained and it seemed more authentic that way.
After printing the page, Nova crossed to the second empty desk and grabbed a pen out of a coffee mug by the keyboard, one with purple ink and a giant purple daisy on its tip. She scrawled a signature across the bottom of the page.
Tina Lawrence
Snapshot
Director
Replacing the pen, she spent a moment riffling through the desk drawers, searching for the stamp Tina sometimes used for official documentation for the weapons and artifacts department.
She had gone through every drawer twice before she gave up with a growl, slamming the final drawer shut. Exhaling, she inspected the clutter on top of the desk more closely, but there was no stamp.
With the paper in one hand, she headed into the filing room. She hadn’t taken two steps inside before she spotted the stamp, left behind on a pile of empty manila folders.
“Honestly,” she muttered, marching over to the stack and slamming the stamp down on the memo beneath the forged signature. Setting it aside, she folded the sheet into crisp thirds.
“Hey, Nova.”
Heart launching into her throat, she cursed and spun around.
Callum started, too, surprised at her overreaction.
“Sweet rot, you scared me!”
“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”