Archenemies (Renegades, #2)(65)

“Don’t argue, okay? If this works, it’s going to be the best thing that’s happened in headquarters since…” Adrian trailed off, stumped.

“Since they upgraded the virtual reality simulators with flight capabilities?” suggested Max.

Adrian cocked his head. “How’d you know about that?”

Max just shrugged and went to stand where Adrian had pointed. He picked up a tiny street sign as he passed Burnside.

“Okay,” said Adrian. “You have your emergency call button?”

Max’s thick brows furrowed with suspicion, but he lifted his arm, revealing the wristband he had worn ever since he’d crashed onto the city and driven the glass spire through his palm. He’d had it before, but until that night it never seemed important for him to wear it.

“Good. Wait there.”

“Where are you going?”

Jumpy with anticipation, and a bit of pride at his own intrepidness, Adrian headed toward the antechambers that separated the quarantine from the laboratories where Max’s blood and DNA had been studied, tested, and altered to make Agent N.

Through the glass, he noticed Max frowning. Adrian flashed him a thumbs-up that went unreturned, then pulled the door open to the tertiary chamber. In the next room, he bypassed the racks hung with protective suits, each one outfitted with chromium cuffs to offer some protection to the prodigy scientists and researchers who had to get close to Max on a regular basis.

Adrian approached the sealed door to the quarantine, where new signage had been added since the fiasco when Nova entered the quarantine in an attempt to help Max, the placards warning prodigies to stay away unless they had followed all required security measures. Adrian took a moment to reflect on whether or not this was a horrible idea. He was hopeful, but it was still a risk. A huge risk, if he was being honest.

What if the nature of Max’s power rendered prodigy artifacts useless?

Lifting a hand, Adrian pressed his fingers over the charm, tracing the symbol of the open palm and the curled serpent.

“Please let this work,” he whispered, then yanked open the door.

Max’s eyes went wide. He pushed himself off the wall, as if he were preparing to dive out of Adrian’s path, but there was nowhere for him to go that wouldn’t bring them closer together.

“What are you doing?” he yelled. “Get out of here!”

“Trust me,” said Adrian, taking a cautious step. Then another over the Scatter Creek bus terminal, which set him on a straight path down Drury Avenue. “I’m testing a theory.”

“A theory?” Max barked. “What theory? That you’ve lost your mind?” He reached for the call button on his wrist.

“Hold on! Don’t push it yet. I think … I think I might be immune to your power.”

Max laughed, but it lacked amusement. He pressed his back against the glass as Adrian took another step forward. “We know you’re not immune. So, come on, get out of here. This isn’t funny.”

“No, see this?” He lifted the charm. “It was in the artifacts warehouse. I think it might protect against powers like yours.”

Max gawked at him. “What?”

Adrian was a quarter of the way into the quarantine. He tried to recall at what point he had started feeling the effects of Max’s power when he’d rushed in to rescue Nova, but that night was a blur in his memory.

He kept walking. Slow, hesitant step after slow, hesitant step. He was barely breathing, waiting for the slightest warning sign that the pendant might be failing. He distinctly remembered the numbness that had entered his hands before. The way his body had felt like it was moving through molasses. The sensation of a plug being pulled up from his navel, and all his strength draining out through it.

How close had he been to Max when it started? Surely he was closer now, and yet he felt completely normal. Twitchy and nervous, but still normal.

He was more than halfway. He passed Merchant Tower. Strode the length of City Park.

Max’s eyes narrowed, fearful, but curious too. His focus was glued to Adrian’s feet, watching him pace through the city they’d built over the years.

Adrian reached the place where Nova had collapsed. The nearby block of buildings still bore signs of the fall, though the shards of broken glass had been removed.

The forgotten street sign dropped from Max’s hand, clattering to the floor.

“If you lose your powers because of this,” Max whispered, “I’m not taking any responsibility for it.”

“You shouldn’t take responsibility for it anyway,” said Adrian. He was constantly working to dispel Max’s beliefs that he had done anything wrong. It wasn’t his fault he was this way. It wasn’t any prodigy’s fault.

Three-quarters of the way into the quarantine, Adrian began to smile.

Still petrified, Max didn’t return it.

“I feel fine,” said Adrian, unable to keep some of the disbelief from his own tone.

He came to a stop three paces away from Max. Close enough that he could reach out and put his hands on his shoulders.

And so he did.

Max flinched, at first ducking from the touch, but then froze. His eyes went wide.

Starting to laugh, Adrian pulled Max into a hug, crushing him in one exuberant embrace before letting go. “I feel fine!” he said again, ruffling Max’s unruly hair. “Great, even. I can’t believe it worked!” His laugh got louder. “Except … I can believe it. Because of course it worked. I totally knew it would work. By the way, you need a haircut.”