Archenemies (Renegades, #2)(72)

He didn’t regret anything he had done while wearing the armored suit, and he couldn’t comprehend why the Council and the Renegades were so determined to stop him, even after all the criminals he’d captured, all the people he’d helped. They were so focused on their code, they couldn’t appreciate the good that could be accomplished when someone stepped outside of their rules.

But regrets or not, the Sentinel was considered an enemy of the Renegades, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of having to explain his secret identity to his dads, or the rest of his team. Including Nova. Especially Nova. The best way to keep his secret was to keep distance between them.

Even if she had been flirting.

Which she most definitely had been.

He knew, with a solid 87% certainty.

His thoughts spiraled.

With the tattoo finished, he needed another distraction.

Stretching the kinks from his shoulders, he went into his art studio. What had started out as a flash of random inspiration had grown into something … well, kind of spectacular, if Adrian did say so himself. What before had been a dark, windowless room, with drab white walls and concrete floors, was now a sight that would have stolen anyone’s breath.

The painting, inspired by the dream Nova had told him about from her childhood, had become a tropical paradise, spanning every wall from floor to ceiling. As the kapok trees had grown, their branches stretched outward into a tangle of leaves and vines, forming a jungle canopy that devoured every inch of the ceiling above. Down below, the floor had been overtaken with thick, tangled roots, stones and ferns, and patches of bright-colored flowers. There were also remnants of the abandoned ruins Nova had described, including a series of steps leading toward the corner where the statue could be seen, surrounded by a crumbling stone wall and encroaching plants. The statue itself was turned away, so that its hooded face and outstretched hands could not be seen, adding an air of mystery to the image. Spotted with moss and chipped with age, the statue was a lone, steadfast figure, the last remnant of a lost civilization.

It was just paint, but Adrian couldn’t recall ever being so proud of any of his art. When he stepped into the room, he imagined he could smell the heady fragrance of wildflowers. He could hear the squawks of native birds and the thrum of a thousand insects. He could feel the humidity on his skin.

He had just opened a can of paint, intending to finish some of the highlights on a cluster of ferns, when a brusque voice echoed through the house.

“ADRIAN!”

He froze.

It had been a long, long time since he’d heard Hugh yell like that.

Setting down his paintbrush, he made his way hesitantly up the stairs.

He found his dads in their office on the second floor, huddled around a shared tablet on the large mahogany desk.

“You called?”

They both looked up at him, momentarily speechless.

Hugh launched to his feet and jabbed a finger at the tablet. “What were you thinking?”

Adrian took a step back. “Excuse me?”

Simon held up the tablet for Adrian to see. “Would you care to explain this to us?”

Adrian approached them hesitantly, watching the screen. It was security footage of Max’s quarantine, and—

“I … was going to tell you about that.”

“I should hope so,” said Hugh, still on the verge of yelling. He spread his arms wide, a gesture of frustration that Adrian hadn’t seen from him in a long time. “How could you just…? Why would you … What were you thinking?”

“Adrian,” said Simon, with much more patience, “did you…” He trailed off. Squared his shoulders. Started again. “Did you sacrifice your powers … so you could be closer to Max?”

Adrian gaped at him. The way he said it, Adrian could tell that he thought the idea was both ludicrous and also enviable. Like maybe he’d considered doing exactly that more times than he would admit.

“No,” Adrian said. “I didn’t sacrifice my powers.”

“Then what is happening in this video?” said Hugh. “The poor security guard on duty nearly had a heart attack when he saw this.”

Adrian rubbed a hand over his hair. “I’m sorry. I … I was going to talk to you about that—”

“We’re talking about it now,” snapped Hugh.

“Would you stop yelling?” Adrian said.

Hugh glowered, but then deflated, at least a little. “Sorry.”

Adrian sighed. “I … figured out a way to be immune to Max.”

“No one is immune to Max,” said Hugh.

Adrian frowned. “You’re immune to Max.”

His voice rose again. “And I’m the only one. Now, try again. The truth this time.”

“I found this thing in the vaults,” Adrian said, more forcefully now. “It’s called the Vitality Charm. It’s this old medallion that’s said to protect against pretty much anything that weakens a person, like poison or disease. And I thought … well, maybe it would work against Max’s powers too. And it did. It does.”

Hugh and Simon exchanged doubtful looks.

“It’s the truth.” He gestured at the tablet. “I’m wearing the charm in the video. You can see it.”

“What do you mean you found it?” said Simon.