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“Negligible?” said Oscar, holding up his forearm, which was wrapped in white bandages. “Their getaway driver scratched me when I was getting out the handcuffs. What if the guy had rabies or something? This could be a mortal wound here.”
“Have you checked him for an overinflated ego yet?” teased Ruby. “I’d hate for him to float away on us.”
“You two are impossible,” she muttered. “In fact, all four of you are driving me nuts.”
His dads would call it denial. His team would call it his typical, uncanny optimism. But Adrian couldn’t help it. The truth was, he did not believe that Nightmare was dead.
Her aversion was immediately replaced with an amused smile. “Well, in that case…” She met Adrian’s gaze, and for the briefest of moments all he could think about was how her blue eyes were brighter than usual, from the morning air or the exercise or maybe there was just really good lighting on this floor, and …
“And once they”—she paused—“once we have total power, what’s to keep us from becoming villains ourselves?”
He hadn’t made any attempts to kiss her since. He hadn’t asked her on any more semi-dates. He hadn’t tried to get her alone or bring her sandwiches in the middle of the night or stop by her house to see if she was okay. All those things that had seemed like such a nuisance before, but now … Much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she missed him.
“You are afraid…,” Phobia rasped. “Afraid to feel too deeply, afraid that the truth will—”
It was obviously a compliment and Nova felt her neck warming. “Oh yeah, stubbornness is definitely a family trait.”
Sweet rot. She had tried to kiss him and … he had rejected her.
Here she was, dwelling on an almost-kiss, and Adrian wanted to talk about the time she’d killed someone.
“You told me that you watched the Detonator kill Nightmare,” said Winston. “That you were there. But … I’m afraid, young Master Everhart, you were mistaken.” His eyes twinkled. “Our precious little Nightmare is very much alive.”
Hugh sighed. “Fifteen minutes ago you were ready to lead a full-scale manhunt for Nightmare, and now you’re painting a room?
“Nova’s a friend,” Adrian said quickly, to get it over with. “We’re fine. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Like this,” Nova said, lifting his arms so they were parallel to the floor. Her cheek was against his shoulder now. “And widen your stance. You want strong, stable legs.” He planted his feet, though his legs didn’t feel strong and stable. If anything, the closer she was, the weaker his limbs became.
He turned his head enough that he could meet her eyes again. “You want me to ignore everything else?” She held his gaze, but her confidence was swept away. He watched as color bloomed across her cheeks. Great skies, she was beautiful.
What was wrong with Adrian? She was doing her best to flirt with him, and making a complete fool of herself in the process. She couldn’t possibly be any more obvious. But either Adrian was the most oblivious boy this side of the Stockton Bridge, or— Her teeth gritted. She really hated that or, and she found herself growing more livid every time she thought of it.
Her annoyance had nothing to do with the sting she felt in her chest every time Adrian proved that what he’d once felt for her was over.
“A true queen is made not in times of prosperity, but in times of hardship.”
Electrolysis. The idea had struck her like one of the Sentinel’s laser beams. It was the process that was used for metal plating, and chromium was used to plate other metals all the time. Using a battery, she could alter the charge of the neutral atoms at the box’s base. The atoms would lose electrons, turning them into positively charged ions, which would dissolve right off the box.
He was sure … well, pretty sure … a solid 83% sure that Nova had been flirting with him in the training hall. And at the park too. A dozen small moments kept flashing through his memory. A smile that was a bit too bright. Eyes lingering on his a second too long. The way she sat just a little closer to him than she had to. The way her fingers brushed against his back when she’d been teaching him how to shoot.
And flirting meant interest. Didn’t it? But then he remembered the carnival, and how she had pulled away so hastily when he’d tried to kiss her, and how everything had been awkward between them since, and he figured he had to be imagining things.
This attraction had to stop. She was an Anarchist. She was Nightmare.
“The gala. If you’re going and I’m going and … Would you like to go together? As a date, I mean. Officially, this time.”
The air left him. Every doubt evaporated at once. He was just kidding. A real relationship could totally work. He would make it work.
Only once he’d taken her into his arms and they were surrounded by the upbeat notes of the band did Nova remember that she didn’t know how to do this. She had been trained to fight. To kill. What did she know about dancing?
“For the record,” said Adrian, quieter now, so that she had to strain to hear him, “just in case there’s any … confusion. I really like you, Nova.”
He considered this. “She’s not not funny. I mean, I’ll obviously be the funny one in the relationship. If … when … well, you know what I mean. But still, she’s got a great sense of humor.”
“How intriguing,” Ace said, eyes narrowed in quiet contemplation. “I do believe you know my niece.” Then he grinned, that same cruel grin, and raised his arms overhead.
“What did you mean, when you said I know your niece?” Ace became calm, his expression almost gloating. “I believe you know her as Nightmare.” His mouth stretched wide. “Among other things.” Adrian’s jaw twitched. “Then I’m sorry for your loss.” “No, I don’t think you are.” Adrian lifted his palm toward the villain and fired.
