“They don’t really do field work anymore. The Council wants to find her as much as anyone, but that’s part of why they built the Renegades. They can’t do everything themselves. Either way, finding Nightmare is a priority for everyone.” Adrian looked down, fidgeting with the marker. “It’s been years since such a blatant attack was made. In broad daylight, surrounded by both civilians and Renegades. Plus, as far as I know, no one’s ever come that close to actually killing the Captain. It shows that she’s not to be underestimated.”
Nova’s chest tightened. In a way, she felt a surge of pride to think she’d gotten closer than anyone. But at the same time, it served as a reminder that close was not success. She had failed, and now she had every superhero in the city searching for her.
And Adrian … if he knew … if he ever found out …
The spark of pride quickly extinguished.
“So…，” said Adrian, his tone brightening a bit. “About the carnival. What do you think?”
She pondered, but could think of no reason to reject the idea. If anything, going to Cosmopolis Park might serve to lead Adrian and the Renegades further away from the truth of her identity and whereabouts.
At least, she didn’t think there was any harm to it. Even if her paperwork said that she, Nova McLain, had worked there, Nightmare still had no real connection to the place.
“Sure. Okay.”
“Cool. Great. Uh … we can meet, say … tomorrow? At noon? If,” he amended, “I can get a release from the medical wing by then.”
Nova rolled her eyes. “Just let them try to keep me back.”
Adrian smiled, and Nova’s heartbeat skipped to see the hint of dimples that were usually kept hidden. “Well, I guess I should let you … rest.” His brow knitted. “Or whatever it is you’re doing.”
He did not move, though, and Nova had the distinct impression he was looking for an invitation. Some reason to linger.
She refused to give him one.
“Thanks for the flowers,” she said, ushering him back toward the front door. “And for checking up on me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Oh, hey,” he said, stopping halfway out the door. “Are you planning to come back to headquarters tonight? Because I could, um, try bringing in some sandwiches again.”
Her chest fluttered and Nova felt almost sad as she shook her head. “I think I might take the night off.”
“Yeah. Of course. That’s definitely the right plan.”
He hesitated a moment more, then lifted a hand in a salute and stepped off the porch. Nova waited until his foot hit the sidewalk before closing the door.
She dropped her forehead against it with a groan, letting all the built-up frantic energy drain out of her.
“So that’s the Everhart boy?”
Nova spun around. Honey and Leroy were both peering around the curve of the staircase’s banner.
She waved her arms at them. “You couldn’t stay hidden until he was at least off our street?”
Honey giggled. “We were just curious,” she said. “It’s a terrible shame he’s a Renegade, isn’t it? Otherwise, you could have asked him to stay for dinner.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
THE ENTRANCE TO COSMOPOLIS PARK was an enormous concrete archway molded into the shape of a giant carousel pony that seemed to stand guard over the old amusement park. The sculpture had once been painted in pretty peach and pearl white, but the paint had faded and chipped over the years. The proud beast had also lost one side of his face, probably due to vandalism during the Age of Anarchy, and no one had yet seen fit to repair it.
Nevertheless, the park was one of the many businesses in Gatlon City that had seen a resurgence since the Day of Triumph. It had never been out of operation, exactly, but under Anarchist rule, some villains had incurred a sizable fortune by turning the place into a haven for drug dealing, gambling, and brutal dogfights. Everyone knew the park was the domain of the Puppeteer, but he never bothered putting on any restrictions, so long as he was paid for using his space—whether in money or candy, as Nova had once heard.
When the Renegades reclaimed the city, it was one of the first areas they saw fit to revive—tearing down many of the ancient, weatherworn rides and constructing a fantasy land in its place, with a roller coaster, a Ferris wheel, and a vintage carousel surrounded by games of skill and chance and more than a few vendors of corn dogs and cotton candy. Yet, like so many of the Council’s ongoing projects, they had stopped when the property was just shy of complete, leaving enough details lying around that one could easily recall what it had been, not all that long ago. The back few acres of the park remained fenced off and labeled with warning signs, informing visitors that this area was still under construction. Beyond the chain-link fence, guests could see a deteriorating fun house, grounded boats from the decrepit tunnel of love, and an entire row of carnival games left in shambles, their walls still hung with dozens of purple teddy bears that had been left to sag and grow mildew, abandoned to the elements.