Archenemies (Renegades, #2)(128)

A destroyed city. A few smashed light fixtures. A floor caved in.

As the dust settled, she heard a tiny cry coming from the rubble. It took a moment for her to spot the creature skidding across the ground. Nova watched, nonplussed, thinking at first that it was some sort of baby lizard.

The velociraptor, she realized with a start. The dinosaur Adrian had once drawn into the palm of her hand.

Heart racing, she crouched and held the flat end of the pike toward the creature, giving it something to climb on so she could lift it to safety.

It squealed and dived into the shelter of a collapsed floor joist instead.

The pile of rubble began to shift. A few chunks of plaster skittered and slipped, almost as if being nudged to the side, but still there was no sign of Max.

Her brow furrowed.

A few more pieces of glass clinked together, and the steeple of a church was suddenly crushed beneath some unseen weight.

Nova heard a gasp, and then Max flickered into view. He squeaked in surprise, then he scrunched his face up with concentration and flickered out again.

“Invisibility,” Nova whispered. He had invisibility. From the Dread Warden. Of course.

A stream of ice struck Nova’s foot, wrapping around her leg. She growled and swung the pike, shattering the ice before it could take hold. No sooner had she pried her foot free than the earth trembled, knocking her off balance. Nova’s hip smacked the ground and her wounded thigh screamed at her. Only a few feet away, an avalanche of glass pieces tumbled into the enormous crack running through the tiled floor, clinking whimsically as they fell. Aftershock stood on the other side, glowering at her.

Nova’s knuckles whitened, one hand on the helmet, the other on the chromium pike. Her eyes skipped across the destruction. Still no sign of Max and now she couldn’t see Frostbite either. Gargoyle had not moved. No, not Gargoyle. He was just Trevor Dunn now, a bully and a coward. His body—large, but no longer larger than life—was kneeling dejectedly where Nova had left him. Nova snarled, disgusted at his self-pity. To just collapse like that. To just give up.

He had never had the makings of a hero.

Nova was grateful for the immunity pendant around her throat, protecting her from Max’s power. But even if she did have her power stripped away, as she almost had once, she liked to think she would handle it with a lot more dignity.

Aftershock roared, pulling her attention back to him. He dropped to one knee and prepared to slam both palms to the ground.

With a scream of her own, Nova hefted the pike over her shoulder and threw it as hard as she could.

Aftershock’s instincts kicked in and he dodged the pike. It sailed over his head and speared into the INFORMATION sign on the central desk. Aftershock blinked at Nova. He froze, but only briefly, before his face split into an amused grin.

Nova held one of her own inventions in her hand. A blow-dart gun … disguised as an innocent fountain pen.

Aftershock chuckled. “You gonna compose a love letter for me?”

“A eulogy, maybe.”

Lifting the pen to her mouth, she blew. The dart struck him in the chest, square over the heart, just where Frostbite had driven the dart into her. Aftershock looked down, horrified, as the green liquid was driven into his flesh.

“Rest in peace, Aftershock,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “His abilities might have been a seven on the Richter scale … but his personality was barely a two.”

Not waiting to see his reaction, Nova took off running again, her feet sliding and tripping over the mess of glass and plaster.

She was nearly to the base of the steps that had once led to the quarantine when one of the great steel beams that had been loosened in the destruction swung downward and smashed against her side. The blow sent her flying into a wall and Nova collapsed, her head ringing. She opened her bleary eyes and saw the helmet lying a few feet away. Though her vision was blurred and her bones were still vibrating from the collision with the beam, she forced herself to push off the wall. Her fingers stretched for the helmet.

It was swept away from her and sent volleying through the air. Nova screamed and lurched for it, but too late.

Max cried out in sudden pain and the helmet dropped, landing amid the remains of the shattered quarantine. Max reappeared and collapsed to his knees not far away from it. His body was covered in nicks and cuts, his pajamas shredded. Nova’s insides clenched as she watched him pull a glass shard from the sole of his bare foot.

He tossed the bloodied shard away with a hiss, then held out his hand again. The helmet completed its journey, soaring into his waiting arms.

He flashed into nothingness again. This time, the helmet disappeared too.

Nova gawked at the place where he had stood, shocked to realize that Max was the one who had sent the steel beam into her. And now he had taken the helmet.

He wasn’t trying to get away. He was trying to fight her.

But invisibility wasn’t infallible in a room filled with debris, and soon she could detect Max’s path as he moved toward the nearest emergency exit. He was trying to be careful, but in his haste Nova spotted the shift of rubble, the disturbed glass in the chaos, smears of blood on the tile.

Pushing herself off the wall, she ran for him. She had no need to be careful, and upon her approach, he started to move faster. She could even hear him panting now, his panic rising as she closed in on him.

She dived, her hands curled into the air.

They found fabric and gripped tight.