Anyone but a villain.
Adrian lifted his chin and reminded himself that, despite his harmless appearance now, the man before him had done despicable things. Losing his powers didn’t change that.
“However,” Adrian continued, “you did give me some really useful information regarding Nightmare.”
This, at last, provoked a twitch in Winston’s cheek.
“I don’t know how much they keep you informed around here, but we were able to track Nightmare down to her hiding spot at Cosmopolis Park.”
Winston’s eyes shifted toward him, then straight back to the ceiling.
“Have you heard about the fight that happened there between Nightmare and the Detonator?” pressed Adrian. “Did you know that they’re both dead?”
He waited, and after a long silence, Winston’s head listed to the side. He seemed to be considering Adrian.
“Both dead?” the villain said, feeling out the words. “Are you sure?”
Adrian’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t sure, of course, no matter how convinced of Nightmare’s death the rest of the world seemed to be. But Winston didn’t need to know that.
“The Detonator killed Nightmare with one of her explosives, and one of my teammates killed the Detonator. I saw it happen.”
Winston made a sound that suggested he was unconvinced by Adrian’s story.
“Here’s the thing,” said Adrian, leaning forward. “Before Nightmare was killed, she was overheard using a phrase. A … slogan, of sorts. She said, ‘One cannot be brave who has no fear.’ Do those words mean anything to you?”
Winston scowled. Then he sat up, without warning, and swung his legs over the side of the cot. He mimicked Adrian’s stance, leaning over his knees, studying him.
A chill ran down Adrian’s spine, but he refused to show his discomfort. Holding Winston’s gaze, he squeezed his hands together until one of his joints popped.
“Lady Indomitable,” Winston whispered. The name hung between them, filling up the silence, feeling like a shared secret somehow, until Winston leaned back and brought his knees up, crossing his legs on the cot. All signs of melancholy vanished and he sounded almost cheerful as he began to talk. “Did you know, she once got hold of my hot-air balloon and flew it all the way into the next county. I wasn’t in it at the time. Was busy robbing a bank or something.…” He snapped. “No, no, a warehouse, that’s right. The balloon was supposed to be our getaway vehicle. Didn’t quite work out that way, obviously. Took me almost a month to track it down. She’d left the thing in a cow pasture, can you believe that? Meddling little Renegade.” He stuck out his tongue.
Gaping at him, Adrian stammered, “She was my mother.”
“Well, clearly. You look just like her, you know.”
Adrian’s mouth opened and closed for a minute, trying to determine the importance of this story, if there was any. Unless …
Unless.
Rage flared in his chest. “Did you do it?” he barked, jumping to his feet.
Winston pushed his back against the wall, startled.
“Did you kill her? Did you murder her because … because she stole your balloon?”
“Did I…？” Winston let out a shriek of a laugh and clapped his hands to the sides of his face. “Did I kill Lady Indomitable? Goodness gracious, no.” He paused, considering. “That is, I would have, had the opportunity ever presented itself.”
Adrian snarled, his hands still clenched into fists.
“But I didn’t!” he insisted.
“But you know who did, don’t you? You know she was found with that note—those words on her. ‘One cannot be brave’—”
“‘Who has no fear,’ yakkity-yak. Trying a bit too hard to be profound, isn’t it?” Winston yawned exaggeratedly.
Adrian lowered himself back to the chair. “Who killed her? Was it an Anarchist? Are they still alive? Are they still out there?”
The look behind Winston’s eyes changed then. No longer hollow and distressed as they had been when Adrian had first arrived, nor jovial and worry-free.
Now he appeared to be considering something.
To be … calculating.
For the first time since he’d entered the room, Adrian could see the villain this man had once been. Or was still, despite what everyone wanted to believe.
“I will give you information, but I ask for something in return.”
Adrian tensed. “I’m not in a position to bargain with you.”
“I don’t ask for much. You can even run my request by that Council of yours if you’d like.”
Adrian hesitated, but Winston kept talking without waiting for a response.
“When I was a child, my father gave me my first puppet—a wooden marionette with orange hair, like mine, and a sad face. I named it Hettie. Well, the last I saw of Hettie, he was fast asleep in his little bed right next to mine—on the subway platform at Blackmire Station.” His expression turned pleading. “Bring me Hettie, Mr. Renegade, and I promise I will tell you something you want to know.”
CHAPTER TEN
“ADMIT IT. You had a bit of a thing for him.”
Nova turned her face to Honey, her jaw dropping with disgust. They were crammed into Leroy’s beloved yellow sports car, Nova straddling the center console between Honey and Leroy. “I did not.”
Honey tittered, shooing Nova’s comment away with the tips of her glossy gold nails. “Psh. What girl your age doesn’t fawn over such golden-hearted righteousness, that boldness, that sheer … heroism.” Despite her mocking tone, there was a dreaminess in her eyes as she watched the city pass by their window.
Nova gaped at her. “Gross.”
Leroy snickered. “Believe me, it isn’t the heroics that Honey finds attractive, it’s the power.”
A shrill giggle escaped Honey and she leaned forward to peer around Nova at him. “Oh, the Sentinel’s obviously not for me, all those muscles and gratuitous masculinity.” She stuck out her tongue. “But Leroy makes an excellent point. Power like that, it does make my heart pitter-patter. If you claim otherwise, you’re lying.”
Nova shook her head and peered down the line of red stoplights stretched out before them, knowing that Leroy would ignore most of them. Luckily, this neighborhood was a ghost town this time of night.
“Absolutely not. There was nothing attractive at all about that pompous, arrogant, attention-craving—”
“Renegade?”
“Wannabe.”
Honey smirked. “Your protests speak volumes. But they haven’t found the body yet, have they? Who knows, maybe your Sentinel survived.”
Nova crossed her arms over her chest, sensing that she was fighting a losing battle. “I watched him get thrown in the river. That armor sank like it was made of concrete. No way he could have gotten out of it fast enough.” She hesitated, before adding, with some annoyance, “Though he has surprised me before.”
“Shame,” Leroy mused. “I was beginning to enjoy your heated griping on his egotism and … how did you put it that one time? That his personality was as interesting as a bloated carp?”
“That might have been a little harsh, in hindsight,” said Nova, “given the whole drowning thing.”