Which often meant killing the one who had wronged you.
Every one of the Anarchists had countless deaths on their hands. She could remember nights when they sat around talking about their most brutal kills. Bragging about them. Laughing about them. When they’d developed the plan for Nova to take out Captain Chromium, Leroy had joked about throwing her a party afterward, to commemorate her first kill.
Her first.
Because they all assumed there would be more to follow. Even Nova had assumed it.
So why did the thought suddenly make her uneasy? Because she’d failed the mission? Or was it something else?
“Hey, guys,” said Oscar, pressing a hand against the window. “The back door’s open.”
They all sprang to their feet—even Nova, and for a moment she forgot that the last thing she wanted them to witness was suspicious activity happening in that alleyway. But when they’d all clustered around Oscar, they saw that it was only a girl taking out a garbage sack and throwing it onto a pile beside the nearest dumpster.
Nova recognized Narcissa, Gene Cronin’s granddaughter, but none of the others seemed to know who she was.
Narcissa let the dumpster lid slam shut and brushed her hands off on her pants before retreating back into the library.
Oscar grumbled. “False alarm.”
“Should we go through their garbage?” said Ruby. “Do you think they’re throwing away any incriminating evidence?”
Adrian frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe, but let’s see what tonight turns up first.”
Nova peered at him from the corner of her eye. Is that where he would place the false evidence?
“My turn,” said Ruby, nudging Oscar on the shoulder while Nova and Adrian returned to the blanket. “I’m bored.”
“Oh yeah, because this is exciting stuff,” he said, but relinquished his place at the window without argument. Lying down, he stretched out onto the pillows.
“How about you?” said Nova, turning to Adrian. “Were you challenged at the trials?”
“Nope.”
“Adrian didn’t have to try out,” said Oscar, kicking Adrian in the shin. “Cheater.”
“Oh right,” said Nova. “Because of…” She hesitated over the right words. His family? His dads? His adoptive relations, who just happened to be the most influential prodigies in the city, perhaps the whole world?
“It’s not like they bent any rules for me or anything,” said Adrian. At some point he had pulled out his fine-tip marker and he was fidgeting with it now, twisting the cap back and forth. “But I was hanging out around headquarters since they first started renovations. By the time someone thought to start hosting trials to bring in new talent, I was already … you know. A part of the team. Obviously, I would have tried out, if anyone had asked me to.”
He scowled at Oscar, and something about his defensiveness made Nova relax.
“I know you would have,” said Oscar. “And you would have kicked ass.”
“Thank you,” said Adrian, scratching his temple with the pen. “I mean, I could have drawn a hand grenade. Come on.”
“No one’s doubting you,” Oscar insisted.
“And what’s your origin story?” said Nova. “I’m guessing that marker doesn’t contain magical ink?”
Adrian’s quiet smile returned as he glanced down at the marker. “No magic. Sadly, no thrilling near-death experiences or villainous jewelry heists, either.” He sighed heavily, as though he’d been dreading this moment, though a hint of a smile remained. “Like twenty-eight percent of today’s prodigies, I was born with my power. At least, I think I was. It manifested pretty much the first time I was handed a crayon.”
“Manifested how?” said Nova.
He shrugged. “I started to scribble, and those scribbles started to come to life and squiggle around the apartment like little primary-colored worms that my mom was always trying to sweep up. Now, things got really interesting when I was … maybe two or three? My power works by intention more than anything, so back then, I was still just scribbling random lines, but in my head I was drawing dinosaurs and aliens. So then the house became overrun with tiny little squiggle lines that believed they were dinosaurs and aliens and were always trying to chomp down on people’s toes when they were walking around. Which is about the time Mom thought it would be a good idea to hire an ex–art teacher who lived a couple streets away to start giving me drawing lessons.”