Supernova (Renegades, #3)

by Marissa Meyer

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.

the entire ordeal with Nova—no, Nightmare—had left him shaken and hollowed out and vulnerable. He’d considered transforming into the Sentinel just to feel the security of the armor on his body. The protection of anonymity. A barrier between him and the world.

For as long as Nova could remember, this had been one of Ace’s most hated phrases. That vague, altogether subjective notion of a so-called greater good. What did it even mean, he had often asked. Who got to decide what constituted that greater good, and what was worthy of the sacrifice in its favor?

“Everyone has a nightmare,” she said. “I guess I’m yours.”

Funny, he thought, how he’d been so ready to write off their relationship as nothing more than a game to her back when she’d been arrested, but now he found himself resisting the idea. Maybe, after having gone through those doubts once already, his heart was refusing to go through them again. Maybe denial was easier.

Maybe he’d been wrong yet again. Maybe Nova would kill him. Maybe that, too, would be its own sort of justice. He had trusted her so deeply. Welcomed her into the Renegades without hesitation. Begun to fall in love with her. It was, in part, due to his own blindness that she’d managed to cause so much grief.

Nova pushed herself onto her elbows and gaped at Adrian. He stared back at her, seemingly as surprised as she was. Honey Harper laughed. “What was that? Did you just save her life? Oh, darling, if you weren’t so disgustingly noble, I’d be half in love with you myself.” Adrian didn’t look away from Nova. “She saved my life once,” he said. “A few times, actually.”

Catching her breath, Nova forced herself to turn away from Adrian and all the emotions scrawled across his face. The intensity, the openness. She saved my life once …

She adjusted the gun in her hand. Put the barrel against Adrian’s skin. He was facing forward, his focus locked on the struggle below. His glasses had slipped slightly down his nose. Nova watched the dip of his lashes as he blinked. The steady rise and fall of his shoulders. Pull the trigger, Nova. The gun became heavy. The handle felt slick in her palm.

Adrian’s lips parted. His gaze shifted in her direction. He was still shirtless, his wounds still bleeding through the gauze, and she knew he must be in pain. And yet, he was so still. So steady. Just waiting. Pull the trigger.

“He’s a Renegade, Nova. He’s one of them.” “I know,” she said, her voice sounding weak even in her own head. “I know.” It was all she could think to say. Because Honey was right. And there was no way for her to explain that at this moment, she didn’t care. She couldn’t even ask Honey not to hurt him. She couldn’t suggest that they let him go, because where would he go? And what would Ace think? But still. Still.

She’d thought she could do it. She’d thought—for Ace. For the Anarchists. For her family. For this world. She could do it, if that’s what it took for Ace’s vision to come true. For the Renegades to be destroyed once and for all. For all prodigies to have freedom from tyranny. For the balance of power to tip back toward actual balance. But she’d been wrong. She couldn’t kill him. She couldn’t do

And she couldn’t stand there and watch him be killed, either. Not this boy, who had given her a quiet, dreamless sleep. Who had given her a star. Who...

Nova started to cough. She used her sleeve to wipe away the snot from her nose. She could not stop shaking. She couldn’t think of much beyond the agony working its way through her system. Her body felt like a series of open wounds that someone had dumped acid into.

NOVA RESTED HER cheek against the rough wooden floor and sobbed. She was aware of nothing but burning and stinging and throbbing. She wished she could put herself to sleep. She would rather be unconscious and vulnerable than have to endure this. She would rather be dead. Something clattered across the floor and bumped her stomach. Shuddering, Nova peeled open her swollen eyes and saw her knife. Adrian was inching toward her on his knees. When he got near enough, he lay down so their faces were inches from each other. There was so much concern written into his features that she started to cry harder.

Setting the jacket aside, he shifted her body so she could stay cradled against him while he worked on her arms.

Adrian looked away while she wriggled out of her pants, hissing and flinching the whole time. He handed her the jacket to cover herself as much as she could while he treated those wounds, though she felt the modesty was for his benefit as much as her own. She didn’t much care what he saw, so long as he made this agony go away.

The fact that they hsve been through so much together, from trying to kill each other, betrayal and heartbreak and yet here he is showing the MAN that he is and is helping her with her wounds after everything means so much to me

Distantly, she recognized the thunderous cacophony of a raging battle. Though they sounded miles away, she knew it was much closer than that.

Nova found herself hoping that the Renegades never made it inside. She couldn’t stomach the thought of another battle that nobody would win.

By the time Adrian was finished, the pain had become a distant, dull thrum throughout her body. Again, Adrian allowed her privacy while she stood and pulled her pants back on, busying himself with finally addressing his own wounds.

“Thank you,” she murmured, and felt tears welling up again. Tears of gratitude, but also tears of guilt. A part of her wanted to lie down on this dirty, ancient floor and do nothing b...

It was all she could do to stay standing. “You didn’t have to … after everything…” She buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t know what’s right or wrong or—” “Nova, stop. Listen to me.” Adrian took her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. “I can only begin to imagine what your life has been like, but none of that matters right now. What matters is that you are good and strong and brave and willing to fight for the people yo...

“Help me,” said Adrian. “Ace Anarchy wants us all dead. Please, help me stop him.” “He’s my uncle,” she whispered. “He’s an Anarchist.” “I’m an Anarchist.” “No. You’re a Renegade.” She grimaced. “Adrian—” “You are, Nova. If you don’t believe it, you’re just going to have to trust me.”

His words reminded her of what Ace had said, what felt like eons ago. You cannot trust them, Nova. You are not one of them, much as you might wish otherwise. But she did trust Adrian. She always had. Even if he was a Renegade. Even if he hadn’t told her about the Sentinel. She trusted him.

“Adrian, I need you to know that I really am sorry. For everything. It wasn’t all a lie. My feelings for you—” Adrian cupped her face in his hands. “I know. And when this is all over, we are going to have a serious talk about keeping secrets from each other.”

She laughed, though it was a nervous sound. “How can you still trust me? After everything?” “We’ve got nothing else to lie about, right? You’re Nightmare. I’m the Sentinel. Ace Anarchy is your uncle. You and I might be archenemies. And yet…” He shrugged, a little hapless. “Somehow, I still want to kiss you.” Her skin tingled. “You do?” “As much as ever.” And then, he did.

The kiss was more tender than the passionate kisses they’d shared before, full of hunger and urgency. This was more patient. More knowing. Utterly devoid of secrets. He started to pull away, but Nova stopped him, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling his lips down to hers again. She melted against him. A kiss full of far more words than they had the time to say.

I live for mid battle kisses, like a battle is raging around you but all you can think about is *her*

She couldn’t keep the overwhelming emotion from her voice when they separated, the disbelief and hope that coursed through her. “I was sure you would hate me when you found out the truth.” Adrian grimaced. “I tried to, at first. But it’s like you said. Everyone has a nightmare.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Maybe I want you to be mine.” Her heart swelled, but she still couldn’t help a teasing smile as she leaned back. “You’ve been holding on to that one for a while, haven’t you?” “Just a few hours.” He beamed. “But I sure am glad I got a chance to use it.”

She laughed and pushed her bangs back from her brow. “No,” she said. “Leroy’s been like a second father to me.” She hesitated, before adding, “Him and Ace both.” Adrian stared at her. “I don’t want to sound mean, but I think we need to get you new role models.” She scowled. “Your dads aren’t perfect, either.” “I know they aren’t, but come on.” He gestured at Leroy’s slumped body.

“Nova,” said Adrian, “we have to stop him. You know that, right?” Her mouth ran dry. It was impossible. Them? Stop Ace Anarchy? And yet, she knew he was right. No more heroes. No more villains. Inhaling a shaky breath, she met his gaze and nodded. “I know.”

A man. A mammoth of a man, towering over Nova’s small frame. His chin was rough with stubble. He had pale hair tied at the nape of his neck. There was a splatter of dried blood on his brow. He was holding a gun, pressing it against Nova’s forehead. A hatred like Adrian had never known surged inside him and the next thing he knew, he had crashed into the man’s side.

“We may not be prodigies anymore,” Danna said, casting a glare toward Nova, “but we’re still superheroes.”

“You want to know fear?” said Phobia, his voice bellowing from all directions. His form engulfed them, blacking out the rest of the world. “Fear of the dark. Fear of being trapped. Fear of death. I am master of them all.” As the sanctuary succumbed to impenetrable darkness, Adrian and the others were forced together, crowding against the altar. “I’m not afraid of you,” said Adrian, daring to step forward into the shadows. His heavy boots clanged on the stone floor. “Actually, you are,” said Phobia, with a low, sinister laugh. “But you are even more afraid to know the truth.”

“I used to worry that they would fade as you got older, but I needn’t have bothered. Fears might change, but they never go away. You once feared losing your mother above all else, but once that nightmare came to pass … there was another lurking to take its place. Fear that you would lose your new family. Fear that the Renegades would collapse. Fear that Ace Anarchy would win. Fear that you would always be in your fathers’ shadows. Fear that you would lose more loved ones. Fear that you would be weak and helpless when it mattered the most.” He cackled, almost delightedly. “There is no end to your fears, Master Everhart, and there is no end to the life they give me.” Adrian tried to swallow, but it was like swallowing a mouthful of sand. He started to choke. The refrain persisted in the back of his thoughts—impossible—but he knew that was only because Phobia was right. He was terrified of this truth.

Because if he had created this monster, that meant he had created his mother’s murderer. But instead of the anger that had propelled him in his search for the killer, all he felt now was a deep, weary distress. He had created this thing. On some level, he was responsible for every unspeakable act Phobia had ever committed. His imagination had rendered a soulless creature and set it loose on the world. He had made him to be a villain, a killer, everything Adrian loathed.

“But don’t overindulge your self-sacrificial fantasies just yet. I’m not going to kill you.” The enormous scythe swung lazily overhead, a shard of silver light glinting in the blackness. “I’m going to kill them, while you watch, and know that you can do nothing to stop me.” “No!” Adrian jerked forward, but collapsed to one knee. The darkness had thickened to something tangible, rendering him trapped. He could barely make out the stricken faces of his friends through the shadows. “No … you can’t…”

“Your courage is remarkable, for such insignificant creatures. But you know what they say about courage. One cannot—” “—be brave who has no fear, yakkity-yak,” said Adrian, remembering how Winston Pratt had once mocked Phobia’s favorite saying. “But do you know what they say about fear?” The hood fluttered around Phobia’s obscured face. Adrian pressed his hand into the book and pulled his drawing from the brittle pages. A narrow rod, the length of his forearm, with a flat cross at one end. It glowed like a lit ember in the darkness. His hand started to shake. “Adrian,” Nova croaked. “Is that a firebrand?” Adrian ignored her, facing off against the shadows. “One cannot be afraid,” he said, “when they have nothing left to lose.”

Nova sat back on her heels, staring at him with something like awe. It wasn’t the first time she’d looked at him that way, with something more than admiration, more than respect. With something akin to amazement. He would do just about anything to keep her looking at him like that.

He was glad Oscar was there. He, at least, had actually bothered to spend time lifting weights in the training halls. Unlike Adrian, who had just gotten really good at drawing weighted barbells.

Cyanide flashed him a lopsided smirk that showed a few missing teeth. He peeled himself out of the bell and limped toward Adrian, then settled a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “Just remember. If Nightmare gets killed out there today, I will find you, and I will douse your extremities in an acid that will eat away at your flesh until all that’s left is those fine pearly teeth of yours.” Adrian pressed his lips together, not so much from fear, but rather to keep from smiling. Funny how a threat could suddenly make him like a guy. “Duly noted.”

Nova struggled to breathe, but her lungs wouldn’t expand. Nova! The scream was muddled in her head, eclipsed by mounting panic and throbbing pain. “Adrian! You’re alive!” yelled Captain Chromium. She peeled her eyes open, wincing from the effort. A figure was sprinting toward her. Tall and broad-shouldered. Dark skin and thick glasses and a metal pike gripped in one hand. Sweet rot, but he was the most handsomely heroic vision she’d ever seen, and Nova was filled with abject terror that he was there. Ace would destroy him.

A strange sense of déjà vu flickered through Nova’s memory, and she thought of the night she had caught Max practicing his telekinesis in the quarantine. She had seen him lift up the miniature glass buildings of his miniature glass city, letting them hover weightless in the air around him, almost exactly as Ace was doing now.

The Anarchists believed in sacrifices. The Renegades believed in a greater good. Nova wasn’t sure what she believed in anymore, but she knew she believed in Max. And Adrian. And herself. She couldn’t let this happen.

Nova smiled, hoping that Hugh was right. Maybe there were no villains. But watching Adrian and Max, she knew there were heroes. She was beginning to wonder if she might be one of them.