She shook her head. “I’ll call a cab. But thanks.”
He didn’t argue with her, and she wondered if it was because he knew she could take care of herself, or because he had seen her “home” once and didn’t want to embarrass her further by seeing it again.
“I hope he’s okay,” said Adrian. “I’ll see you at headquarters tomorrow?”
“Yeah, of course.”
There was a moment—the briefest of moments—when Nova thought he might bend down and kiss her. Here, in front of everyone.
And in that breath of a moment, she longed for that kiss. Just once more.
But he hesitated too long, and Nova forced a smile as she turned away.
Adrian caught her by the wrist and tugged her back. Nova’s heart jumped and then he was leaning toward her, pressing a single kiss against her lips.
He pulled away, a little sheepish. “Good night.”
Nova’s body tingled and, for an eternity trapped inside a heartbeat, she considered staying.
But the moment passed and she pulled herself away. “Good night.”
She moved through the sea of tables in a daze, her mouth burning, her legs like jellyfish. Finally, she shoved through the exit doors and as soon as the chilly night air struck her, her addled thoughts began to clear.
Adrian was problematic. Bad for her conviction. Bad for her loyalties.
Her head would be a lot clearer after tonight.
Because she would no longer be a Renegade. This charade would be over, and with it … any ties she had to Adrian Everhart.
“Good-bye, Adrian,” she whispered into the night air.
She allowed herself to be the tiniest bit sad as she walked the three blocks to the parking lot where she had agreed to meet Leroy and Honey. The sports car was there, sickly yellow and mottled with dents and scratches. Honey Harper was perched on the hood, buffing her nails. Leroy was in the driver’s seat, his elbow draped outside the window.
“How was it?” said Honey, jogging her leg.
“Dandy,” said Nova, tearing off her wristband. She handed it to Honey, who peered at the high-tech device with vague distrust. “This will need to be taken back to the house.”
“Do you think I wasn’t paying attention to all that plotting we did earlier? Don’t worry about your precious alibi. I have money for a cab, and I even prepared a disguise.” She pulled out a pair of oversize sunglasses and slipped them on.
“In the middle of the night,” Nova said, nodding. “Not suspicious at all.”
“Not suspicious—mysterious.”
“Fine. Just make sure you go straight back to the house. No detours.”
Honey flicked her fingers through the air, a gesture that only increased Nova’s nerves. Maybe she should have given this job to Phobia. Tracking the wristband would provide her with an alibi if anything went wrong. She didn’t expect it to happen that way. She had every reason to believe that her lies were at an end.
She would not fail.
It was too late to change the plan now, anyway.
“Did you say your good-byes?” asked Honey, her gaze suddenly piercing as she stood. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
Nova’s jaw clenched. “It wasn’t that hard, either,” she muttered.
She made to move around Honey toward the passenger’s side of the car, but Honey sidestepped, blocking her. Her mouth was still smiling, her eyes remained hidden behind the glasses. “You’ve seemed distant today, little Nightmare. I’m worried about you.”
Nova stared at her. “I’ve had a lot on my mind, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Honey made a disinterested sound in her throat.
“What’s wrong?” said Leroy, opening his car door and climbing out.
“You know,” Honey continued, ignoring him, “you’re probably too young to remember, but we were feared once. Feared and respected. And now … we’re this.” She swirled her glossy finger toward the car, with all its rust and dings.
Leroy puffed his chest. “Uncalled for, Honey Harper.”
“Queen Bee,” said Honey, her voice hardening. “And the car is fine, but there was a time when it was the envy of the gangs. When we had jewels and champagne and power … and now we’re scurrying through a parking garage in the dead of night, afraid to show our faces in public. And all because of the Renegades.”
Nova spun the bracelet on her wrist. “I’m well aware of that, Honey. They took everything from me, too.”
“That’s right. They did.” Honey lowered the glasses to the tip of her nose, her smoky gaze burning into Nova. “They can offer you notoriety and a fancy pair of boots. They might even give you pretty gems like that bauble on your wrist.”
Nova’s heart lurched and her hand automatically clapped over the hidden star.
Honey chuckled. “I noticed it when you were trying on dresses earlier. You think I could have missed it?”
“It’s nothing,” said Nova.
“I don’t care what it is. My point, Nova, is that the Renegades can offer you a lot, but they can never offer you revenge.”
“Your Majesty,” said Leroy, with more than a tinge of irony, “have you forgotten that all of this is Nightmare’s doing? Her reconnaissance, her plan. She’s risking her life for this mission.”
Honey smiled sweetly. “I haven’t forgotten, Cyanide. I just want to ensure that she doesn’t forget, either.”
“I won’t,” said Nova through gritted teeth.
“Good.” Honey cupped Nova’s cheek in one hand, and it took all her willpower not to recoil from the touch. “Make us proud.” Pulling her hand away, she tucked Nova’s wristband into her dress and sauntered away into the night.
Nova swallowed, hard. Though the star on her wrist was weightless, she felt its presence like a ball and chain.
Leroy scrutinized her. “Nova, are you—”
“Fine,” she spat. Without looking at him, she yanked open the door to the car. “I’m ready. Let’s bring them down.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
LEROY PULLED INTO A SPACE in an empty parking garage one block from headquarters. They had hardly spoken for the duration of the ride.
“Pop the trunk,” said Nova, relieved to stumble out of the passenger door.
“When did you become so bossy?” Leroy teased. “This little group doesn’t need two Queen Bees, you know.”
Nova said nothing. She wasn’t in the mood for teasing.
Her shoes echoed on the concrete as she rounded the back of the sports car. In the shadows, she saw a familiar black jacket, her beloved weaponry belt, and on top of the pile—a metal mask, curved to the shape of her face.
Reaching behind her neck, she pulled down the zipper on the dress. She wriggled out of it, then stepped into her dark pants and pulled on the tank top and jacket, the mask, and finally the gloves that she had designed herself. It was always a little disconcerting putting them on and cutting off the most convenient source of her power—if she ran into trouble, she would want her fingers free—but she would need the gloves tonight.
The clothes felt confining compared to the Renegade uniform she’d gotten used to, but once the ensemble was complete, Nova felt … strong. Powerful. Almost invincible.