But it was too late now to change direction. What would an experienced team do in this situation, to make up for the mistakes he’d already made? Should they threaten Cronin if he didn’t give up the Detonator’s location? Arrest him? Start punching holes in the walls, looking for secret alcoves that held illegal contraband?
“So,” said the Librarian, heading back toward the stairwell, “if you’d like, we can continue the tour upstairs. We have a marvelous collection of rare books and first editions on the second floor—”
A loud clunk made him freeze.
Adrian spun, glancing at the wall the sound had come from. It was yet another wall sporting floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, no different from the others. But as he stared, the books began to tremble, and the wall began to move outward, scraping loudly against the floor.
“No…，” Cronin murmured. “What is she … no!”
Adrian took a step toward the bookshelf. Ruby twisted her wrist, unraveling the wire that held her bloodstone. Nova settled a hand on her belt.
The wall of books swung outward, though what lay beyond was too dark for Adrian to see. Then there was a quiet click, and a single desk lamp flooded the space with dim, green-tinted light.
They were staring into a room not much bigger than the office cubicle they had spent the night in. There was a single desk in the room’s center, holding nothing on it but the lamp. A woman sat in the rolling chair behind the desk, her boots kicked up on its surface as she tipped back in the seat.
Ingrid Thompson. The Detonator.
But this was not an office.
This was an armory.
The three surrounding walls were lined with shelves and display cases and neatly labeled cabinets, only this room was not full of books, but weapons. Boxes of bullets and cartridges. Rifles, shotguns, handguns, pistols, bandoliers stocked with ammunition, lethal-looking darts, crossbows, hunting knives, and what he suspected was a box of hand grenades.
“Oh, for all the diabolical schemes,” Nova murmured from behind him. “This is why we can never win.”
The Detonator smirked. “Took you long enough, Renegades. I was beginning to think I’d have to come find you myself.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
INGRID SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN THERE.
The guns shouldn’t have been there.
Nova took in Ingrid’s haughty expression, her mind buzzing with disbelief, with irritation, with … betrayal. They’d had a plan. They’d had a good plan. What was Ingrid doing?
“Adrian Everhart,” said Ingrid. She pulled one hand out from beneath the desk, gripping a handgun. She tapped the handle against the desk. “What a sweet surprise.”
“That girl told you we were here,” said Adrian, his expression oddly neutral for having a gun aimed at him. “The mirror walker.”
Nova swallowed. It was as good a guess as any, and Ingrid didn’t seem inclined to correct him as her lips drew into a haughty smile.
“The best part of all this,” she said, “is that I’m going to kill you, and no one will know it was me, because no one will be alive to tell them. Except”—her eyes narrowed as she scanned Adrian and Ruby, the Librarian, and finally Nova—“you’re missing one.”
“And you’re missing some brain cells!” yelled Ruby. She threw her bloodstone at one of the tall shelving units beside Ingrid. The wire spun around a shelf bracket, hooking tight, and Ruby yanked back, bringing the enormous structure toppling down. Ingrid screamed as a shower of guns and ammunition crashed onto her head. The heavy shelves landed on her shoulders. The desk chair rolled out from beneath her and Ingrid collapsed onto the floor—the descent of the shelves caught by the top of the desk.
Growling, Ingrid crawled beneath the desk and lifted the gun.
Adrian turned and threw himself at Ruby in the same moment Ingrid pulled the trigger. The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space, the bullet lodging itself in a thick encyclopedia as Adrian and Ruby tumbled to the ground. They rolled behind a bookshelf.
With a terrified cry, Gene Cronin turned and started for the stairs, but Nova reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt. She slammed him into a corner behind another teetering shelf. “This wasn’t the plan,” she whispered. “What’s going on?”
“You tell me!” he spat back, his eyes wide with horror. “Ingrid said she was here for new bombshells, but I have the distinct impression I’ve been set up!”
Nova frowned. “What did she tell you yesterday?”
“Yesterday? I didn’t see her yesterday!”