“Naturally,” said Leroy.
“And someone will have to take my wristband back to the house after I leave the gala, so if they track it later I’ll have an alibi.”
Honey sneered with disinterest, but then rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“Thanks,” Nova deadpanned. “Couldn’t do it without you. Phobia, at first I was thinking you could act as emergency backup for me, in case something goes wrong, but now…” She considered the wall of skulls dividing them from Ace. “Maybe it’s best if someone stays here?”
“I could be your emergency backup,” said Honey.
Nova cringed. “Well … thanks, but … I’m sort of going for stealth and subtlety?”
Honey stared at her, and for a moment Nova expected her to be insulted, but then she said, “You’re right, that won’t work for me.”
“But,” said Nova, swallowing, “there is one other thing I could use your help with. I … I’m going to need a dress.”
Finally, Honey brightened.
“Something practical,” Nova added quickly.
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m a supervillain. I am nothing if not practical.” She winked.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that,” Nova muttered.
“We’ll pick out something when we get back to the house,” said Honey, bobbing her toes. “I have a sexy little sequined number that might work—”
“Not sexy,” said Nova.
Honey scoffed. “Not sexy is not an option.”
Her nose curled. “Well … not … not too sexy, then.”
“We’ll see,” said Honey, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug. “You know, I used to be invited to galas and parties every week. Oh, the cocktails, and the dancing…” She sighed longingly. “The Harbingers, you know. They always threw the best parties. Anyone who was anyone would be there.”
Nova peered at Phobia, who was as still as one of the creepy saint statues in the corner. “Let me guess—Honey has an acute fear of missing out?”
Leroy chuckled and even Phobia made a hissing sound that might have been a laugh.
“Among other devastating insecurities,” Phobia said.
“What?” Honey barked. “I am not insecure!” She grabbed a stray skull and threw it at Phobia, who blocked it with a swipe of his scythe. The skull clunked against the floor and Nova flinched, unable to ignore that it had once belonged to a real person.
Phobia upturned his scythe and stuck the tip of the blade through one of the skull’s eye sockets, lifting it from the floor. He took hold of the cranium with his own bony fingers and set it neatly, almost tenderly, back on one of the stone shelves that lined the catacombs.
“You just wait,” said Honey, drawing Nova’s attention back to her. “You’re going to enjoy yourself tonight. Undermining those arrogant tyrants. Risking everything to achieve your goals. Taking back what’s rightfully ours. Trust me, darling. It will be fun.” She nudged Leroy with the toe of her pointed shoe. “Don’t you agree?”
“All this planning does bring back memories,” said Leroy, though the look he shot Nova was more mocking of Honey than agreeing with her.
Nova didn’t respond to either of them. She wasn’t excited for tonight. Eager to have it over and done with, perhaps. Determined not to fail. But there was also dread churning in her gut, and she couldn’t quite pinpoint what was causing it.
Though she was sure it had a lot to do with Adrian.
“I’ll be glad when the gala is over,” she said. “I’ll only be there for an hour—two at the most. And then—”
Honey grinned wickedly. “And then.”
Nova’s eye caught a flutter of movement over Honey’s shoulder, and she frowned. At first she thought it was one of the wasps, but …
She stepped closer. Honey glanced around.
A butterfly, its wings splattered in orange and black, shot out from one of the skulls. It sped straight for the stairwell at the end of the catacombs.
Nova gasped. “No! Catch it!”
Phobia vanished in a drift of black smoke and reappeared, blocking the doorway. The butterfly turned, narrowly avoiding his chest, and dived toward the crate that hid the entrance to the subway tunnels. Honey jumped, having removed one of her shoes, and swung it at the creature.
Nova and Leroy launched forward at the same time, both slamming into the crate and shoving it against the wall. The butterfly smacked into its side, then soared frantically upward. Leroy jumped onto the crate, swiping at the creature with his palm.
“Don’t hurt it!” Nova cried, her pulse thundering.
“Why ever not?” said Honey.
The butterfly darted around the ceiling, searching for another escape. But there was nowhere else for it to go.
It alighted on a marble tomb, and Nova could picture Danna trying to catch her breath. Its wings stilled, folding together to reveal their intricate pattern, like a golden stained-glass window.
“Just trust me,” said Nova. “We need to catch it in something.”
Nova had learned enough about her allies, and their weaknesses, to know how Danna operated. If they captured the butterfly, then Danna would be stuck in swarm mode. But if it got away …
Danna would know everything.
Spotting a wineglass on the floor, Nova leaped for it, at the same moment the butterfly took off again. No longer fluttering aimlessly, the creature shot forward, heading straight for—
Nova’s heart stopped.
The candles.
It was going to burn itself up. Sacrifice itself rather than be trapped down here. Sacrifice itself so the rest of the swarm could converge.
“No!” Forgetting the wineglass, Nova ran, then dropped to the ground and slid, her leg outstretched, preparing to kick the base of the candelabra.
But just before the butterfly reached one of the orange flames, a white pillowcase fell from the air and scooped the creature from its path.
Nova, however, kept sliding. Her heel struck the base of the stand and the candelabra toppled to the ground. A few of the candles extinguished in the fall, while the others rolled, still burning, across the stone floor.
Panting, Nova watched as the corners of the pillowcase tied themselves together, then the whole thing drifted to the ground. The fabric drooped until she could barely make out the twitching insect inside.
“All this racket,” came Ace’s exhausted voice, “over a butterfly?”
“M-Monarch,” said Nova, panting, though as much from the terror of Danna discovering Ace’s hideout and going back to tell the others as from her exertion.
“A Renegade,” added Honey, her voice dripping disdain.
Ace strode out from where the curtain of bones had parted and let them clatter shut behind him. He stood over the pillowcase. He was still pale, but the bit of excitement had brought a rare gleam to his eye. “Not a particularly menacing shape for a superhero.”
“It isn’t just one,” said Nova, standing on her shaky legs. “She transforms into a whole swarm of them.” She stood up the candelabra and returned each of the candles to its holder, but as she was about to set in the last candle, it was lifted from her hands. Still burning, it drifted in the air toward Ace.