Supernova, p.7
Supernova, page 7
No. That didn’t make sense. Did it?
Her thoughts churned and she shook her head, trying to sort them. “What are you doing here?” she asked, holstering the gun.
He flexed his toes, rubbing the arch of his foot as he did. “I’ve been down here a few times since the raid, seeing if there were any clues left behind. I mean, the cleanup crews are good, but you never know.” He started to put his shoe back on. “I’m really sorry for grabbing you like that. I saw the flashlight, and in the dark, you sort of looked…”
“It’s okay. That’s what I get for creeping around dark tunnels, I guess.” She nudged the door closed behind her, hoping Adrian wouldn’t bother to go inside. She wasn’t sure how she would explain what she was doing with the forged helmet down here, of all the random places, or why she was leaving it behind.
“So what are you doing down here?” said Adrian.
“Same thing as you. After our meeting the other day, I’ve been thinking a lot about whether or not Nightmare could really be posing as one of us. I wondered if maybe there would be something down here that would indicate … you know, one way or the other.”
Adrian climbed back to his feet. “Actually, there is something the cleanup crew missed.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure how much it helps us at this point, but come on. I’ll show you.”
He pulled a flashlight out of his back pocket and, to Nova’s relief, led her away from Honey’s room, toward an intersection of the tunnels where her train car stood against a wall. There were sheets of paper taped around the tunnel and on the windows of the car, “exhibits” left behind by the Renegades, indicating anything that might have seemed noteworthy at the time.
To her surprise, Adrian didn’t head for Nightmare’s car, but rather into the adjacent tunnel. The beam of his flashlight danced over a wall of old advertisement posters lined up side by side, each one taller than Nova. Her lungs squeezed when she realized what he’d discovered.
Approaching the last poster, an ad for a thriller novel, Adrian dug his fingers beneath the corner of the frame. The poster swung outward toward them, as it had swung toward Nova hundreds of times when she’d gone to visit Ace.
“Wow,” she mused, stepping forward as she pretended to examine it. She shone her flashlight into the narrow tunnel, the sides showing scrapes and scratches where she and the other Anarchists had passed. “Where does it go?”
“To the catacombs under the cathedral,” said Adrian.
“Really? That has to be at least a mile away.”
“Only about two-thirds of a mile,” he said. “The tunnel is a straight shot. It would take a lot longer on the surface. I think this tunnel might have been used after the Battle for Gatlon. It’s probably how the Anarchists managed to get away. And how they’ve been going back and forth, visiting Ace Anarchy and taking him food and supplies.” He shook his head. “You know, I came down here weeks ago, when I was trying to find that puppet Winston Pratt wanted? I saw this poster and … I had a feeling about it. I was so close to finding it, way back then. We could have found Ace Anarchy.”
She forced a small chuckle despite the sourness roiling in her stomach. “Good thing you didn’t. To just stumble onto Ace Anarchy like that? You would have…” She trailed off, not wanting to hurt Adrian’s feelings. But they both knew he wouldn’t have stood a chance against Ace, even if Ace was a lot weaker than he’d been ten years ago. At least, she hoped Adrian knew that. He was talented, but not that talented. “I’m shocked the Sentinel was able to capture him.”
Adrian’s mouth twisted into a frown and she could tell he wanted to say something—probably defend his own abilities—but he resisted. “Well,” he said finally, “they say Ace Anarchy was pretty weak when they found him. Without the helmet, he’s just another telepath.”
Now it was her turn to resist the urge to argue. “If you ask me, the Sentinel got lucky.”
Adrian grunted, but she didn’t think he agreed with her.
“So…,” she started, rocking on her feet. “You’ve gone to the catacombs, then?”
“Just once. But I didn’t learn anything that we didn’t already know. I’ve been down here a few times since then, though. I just keep thinking that Nightmare has to show up here again at some point, right?”
She shrugged. “Maybe not. Maybe she knows the Renegades are watching it too closely.”
“Maybe.” He fit the poster back into place. His expression changed then, the start of a teasing smile appearing at the corners of his lips. Nova immediately tensed. “Nice bracelet, by the way.”
She blinked.
Then blinked again.
She reached for her sleeve and tugged it down instinctively, but it was too late to cover the star that was inexplicably set into the prongs of her bracelet—and glowing far too obviously in these dim tunnels.
“I didn’t steal it,” she said hastily. “At least … I didn’t mean to steal it. It just kind of…”
Adrian chuckled. “I’m not mad. You can have it.” He cocked his head, eyes still twinkling behind his glasses. “I realized it was missing after you left, but you didn’t say anything, so I thought maybe I shouldn’t, either. But the curiosity is killing me.” He took her hand and gently pushed up her sleeve, revealing not just the star, but the delicate bracelet that her father had made years ago, the last thing he had ever made. “It fits the setting perfectly. Like it was made for it.” Adrian’s face was awed.
Nova was more awed by the rush of electricity at his touch. It was hardly the first time he’d touched her, so how did it still affect her this way?
“Did you know it would fit the bracelet? I mean, was the bracelet part of the dream you had?”
“No,” she said. “I had no idea it was going to…” She peered at the star, not sure how to explain what had happened. “I went back into the room to see it, after you fell asleep. I just wanted to touch it, to see if it would do anything. And it … flashed, sort of? And the next thing I knew, it was there, in my bracelet.” She grimaced apologetically. “I probably should have told you, it’s just … it was in your house. It felt a little bit like stealing.”
“As far as I’m concerned, that room was made for you,” said Adrian. “You’re welcome to anything in it. The parrots, the wildflowers, the noise-canceling headphones…”
She flushed, remembering all too well the muted sound of their heartbeats falling into sync as she drifted off to sleep for the first time in ten years. It was quite possibly the most magical moment of her life. There were still times when she wondered if she’d imagined it all, sure that it had been too fantastical, too surreal, to have actually happened.
But Adrian was here, his fingers laced with hers, their toes practically touching, and it had happened.
“Well, thank you,” she said, inching just a bit closer to him. “I have become a little attached to the star, and … it really does seem like it was made for this bracelet.”
“I’m glad you like it. It was my first time giving a girl jewelry, which is sort of a big deal, so…”
She squinted one eye at him. “You didn’t give me jewelry. You gave me a jungle.”
He laughed. “That, and almost a full day of blissful sleep.”
“Okay, stop fishing for compliments. I admit, you’re a pretty good gift giver.” She leaned forward, lifting up onto her toes.
“I’m trying,” Adrian said, bending down to meet her.
The kiss was everything she remembered. Warmth tingling through her limbs. Shooting stars glinting behind her eyelids. Somehow being so perfectly content, while still yearning for more.
A crash startled them both—something heavy falling to the hard floor. They jumped apart and spun toward the darkened subway tunnels where they had come from.
Nova’s pulse raced beneath her skin, and she knew that it had been the helmet. Had the blackmailer realized it was a fake? Had they thrown it?
“Just a rat, probably,” she said, breathless for more reason than one.
“I don’t think that was a rat.” Still holding her hand, Adrian started back toward Honey’s room.
Nova dug in her heels. The last thing she needed was a run-in with someone who knew her secrets and wouldn’t hesitate to give them up, especially to Adrian Everhart himself. “Hold on! What if it’s … what if it’s Nightmare? Or another Anarchist? Shouldn’t we call for backup?”
Adrian shot her a baffled look, and even in the dim lighting she could see his confusion. “You want to wait for backup?”
He was right. It didn’t sound like her at all.
“It’s just…” She swept her other hand toward him. “You’re not wearing your uniform!”
His head shifted to one side, briefly, then he shook it and started dragging her again. “Come on.”
She cursed inwardly and followed. She would play dumb. She would deny anything the blackmailer said. If she had to, she would take desperate measures, silencing him or her before anything could be given away.
Or maybe she could knock Adrian out, right now, before he saw them and had a chance to learn anything. She eyed the bare flesh at the back of his neck. She could make up a story—say that it was Nightmare in the tunnels, and she jumped out from the shadows and put them both to sleep before Nova could stop her.
Yeah … that might work …
Her fingers twitched. They were nearly to the maintenance closet where she’d left the helmet. Adrian was rounding the corner. There was no sign of anyone yet, not even the beam of a flashlight or the thud of footsteps running away. Just the scuffle of their own feet along the tracks.
Was the blackmailer still in Honey’s room?
The door was still closed, just as Nova had left it. Adrian nudged it open, gripping his marker in one hand. Nova hadn’t seen him take it out.
Biting down on her lower lip, she reached for the back of his neck. But something made her stop. A movement in the room. A shadow moving toward them.
Adrian ducked, then flew forward, sending his fist at the attacker.
A crash reverberated through the room. Adrian let out a stream of curses. Nova shone the flashlight toward him.
There was no attacker, no blackmailer. Their assailant had been Adrian’s own reflection in the dresser mirror, which had shattered from the punch.
“Okay,” he grunted, cradling his hand against his chest, face twisted with pain. “I’m officially done attacking people before I get a good look at them.”
“That might be for the best,” said Nova, but her words were distracted.
Her attention had snagged on the top of the dresser, where a few chunks of broken mirror had fallen to the surface.
The helmet was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ADRIAN PACED AROUND the waiting room. Simon was sitting at the edge of one of the sofas, his hands clasped and his fingers twitching against his knuckles. They hadn’t spoken much since their arrival at the hospital. Hugh had gone ahead to see Max, as the only one who was immune to him. The only one who was supposed to be immune to him. Adrian’s confession had been on the tip of his tongue ever since.
It was so frustrating to be out here when there was no reason that he couldn’t be in the room with Max right now. His tattoo would protect him. All he needed to do was tell his dads about the tattoos, explain that, actually, he was immune to Max’s power, too, and he could be back there with his brother.
But the words wouldn’t come. There would be too many questions. Explanations he wasn’t ready to give.
So instead he paced. Back and forth. Past the fake potted plants. The tables full of fashion and celebrity magazines—one, he noticed, had his dads’ faces in a small box on the cover, but Adrian didn’t read the headline. Nothing mattered right now except Max.
Sweet rot, why wasn’t he back there with him?
It felt like hours before finally, finally, Hugh emerged through the swinging double doors, a smile plastered across his face. Hope surged through Adrian’s veins. Simon launched to his feet.
“He’s going to be okay,” said Hugh.
It was all he managed to say before they were embracing one another. Hugh pulled Adrian against him, squeezing tight around his shoulders, and then Simon had his arms around them both. Adrian fought to hold back the tears of relief that threatened to spill over. He ducked away, letting his dads hold each other a moment longer while he gathered himself.
“The doctor says he’s been through the worst now,” Hugh continued, his voice rough with emotion. “They expect a full recovery, though there will be a scar that I’m sure he’ll be proud to show off for the rest of his life. And Max is … He’s good. Weak still, but good. He’s in high spirits. If things weren’t in such disarray at headquarters, we could probably take him back by the end of the month.”
“Headquarters?” said Adrian, spinning to face them. “He can’t go back to headquarters.”
“Not anytime soon, obviously,” said Hugh, running a hand through his blond hair. “It will take a while to rebuild the quarantine. He’ll just have to stay put until then, but I know the staff here is going to keep him comfortable. They say he’ll be able to move to a new room in a few days, one that’s intended for longer-care patients.”
“Hold on,” said Adrian. “The quarantine? You’re going to rebuild the quarantine?”
Hugh and Simon stared at him, baffled. “Well … of course we are,” said Simon. “He can’t stay at the hospital forever.”
Adrian shook his head. “No. You can’t!”
“What are you talking about?” said Hugh. “What did you think would happen?”
Adrian stepped back. “I just thought…”
What had he thought would happen once Max was able to leave the hospital? That he could come home to the mansion? That he could share the basement with Adrian, be brothers for real?
That wasn’t possible. Not with Simon living under the same roof.
But to go back to the quarantine?
“This can’t be the only option. He hates the quarantine. And now that we don’t need him for Agent N—”
“We still need to protect him,” said Simon. “He’s a threat to prodigies everywhere, which means he can be targeted anytime.”
“Or weaponized against us,” added Hugh. “And it’s dangerous for him to be out in the world. You’ve seen the trouble we’ve had to go through just to make sure no prodigy healers accidentally wander past his room while he’s here. No. It’s safer for him at headquarters, where we can keep an eye on him.”
Adrian’s heart thumped, as if reminding him of the immunity tattoo inked onto his chest. He swallowed hard. His dads still didn’t know about the tattoos. They would ask questions, demand to know more—and all those questions and demands could tread too closely to the truth of his alter ego.
But an idea had been brewing in his thoughts for months now and was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. What if he could tattoo other prodigies? What if he could give Simon immunity against Max? Not just Simon, but his friends. Nova, Ruby, Oscar, Danna …
He didn’t know if it would work, but there was a chance. Didn’t he owe it to Max to find out?
Just considering it made his pulse drum faster. Because what if his dads discovered his secret? What would they do if they knew he was the Sentinel?
He felt sick to his stomach at his own selfishness, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell them.
I will, he thought. If there’s no other way to keep Max out of that quarantine, then I’ll tell them.
“It might be safer at headquarters,” Adrian admitted, “but it’s not better. He’s a ten-year-old kid. He deserves to have a life.”
Simon sighed, while Hugh started to rub his temple. “I’m sorry this is so upsetting to you, but I don’t know what else you expect us to do. And honestly, Adrian, we’ve already made our decision.”
“He’s my brother! I deserve to be a part of this conversation. Hell, he deserves to be a part of this conversation.”
“You’re both too young to understand everything at stake here,” said Hugh.
“But we’re not too young to risk our lives fighting crime every day? Max wasn’t too young to be taken into battle against Ace Anarchy when he was a year old? You’ve been controlling him for his entire life, and this is … You can’t do this to him again.”
“We love him, too, you know,” said Simon, looking weary. “We’re trying to do what’s best for him. Do you have any idea how many people want to hurt him? Or use him? This is for his own good.”
“Besides, he’s still the same Max,” added Hugh. “He might seem weak and fragile these days, but he’s still … dangerous.”
Adrian jaw clenched, but he nodded, pretending that he understood.
Slumping into the sofa again, Simon turned to Hugh. “Tell me everything the doctor said. Word for word.”
“I’m going for a walk,” said Adrian, before Hugh could launch into any medical speak. “I’ll see you at home later.”
They didn’t try to stop him. Adrian pushed his way back out through the swinging doors and left the hospital through a side entrance, as the main sliding glass doors to the ER were still boarded up since the Sentinel had burst through them when he brought in Max.
Within minutes Adrian was springing up to the adjacent rooftop, hurtling over the alleyway toward the fifth floor, and after checking that no one else was inside, sliding open the window to Max’s room.
Max was seated up in the adjustable bed, propped against white pillows. When he spotted Adrian climbing in through the window, he yelped and sent a plastic food tray clattering to the floor. “Adrian! What on—”
Adrian shushed him and ducked against the side of the bed, just in case someone in the hallway had heard Max’s commotion. He waited three whole breaths before picking up the food tray and piling the fallen dishes of macaroni and cheese, apple slices, and a chocolate brownie back on top of it.
