Thunderbird held her gaze for a long time. “Your concerns are relevant. I’ll discuss potential consequences with the rest of the Council and we’ll make sure to have a memo distributed with our decisions.”

“A memo?” said Nova, with a guffaw. “Oh, good. Because those are always taken seriously.”

“What is this, Ethics 101?” Genissa Clark muttered, just loud enough to make sure everyone heard.

“Also,” said Thunderbird, her tone stern, “during your next training session we will discuss what factors we expect will be considered during an altercation before Agent N is administered. We do trust your judgment, but we will offer some guidelines to follow when considering whether neutralizing an opponent is the best course of action to take.” She regarded Nova, as if waiting to see if this answer was adequate.

It wasn’t, of course, but sensing Danna’s eyes on her, Nova held her tongue.

“Now then.” Thunderbird gestured to the firing range. “Everyone, please take a weapon.”

The teams started to drift toward the firing range, claiming their positions in front of an array of targets.

Everyone except Genissa Clark. Nova’s eyes narrowed as she left her group and approached Thunderbird. The tips of Thunderbird’s massive feathered wings dragged on the floor as she and Genissa peeled off toward the side of the training hall. The two tilted their heads together, and Genissa began to whisper something, gesturing occasionally at the briefcase full of Agent N.

Thunderbird was frowning, but in a way that suggested contemplation more than disapproval.

Ruby strode toward a cluster of open stands by the range and the others followed, but Nova lingered behind. Her fingers delved into the pouch on her belt and wrapped around the vial inside. Her attention latched on to the open briefcase, left unattended.

The Renegades were focused on their new weapons and the targets before them.

Lifting her chin, she sauntered toward the drinking fountain on the far side of the hall. She bent over it, taking a long draft of water. When she turned back she saw Genissa and Thunderbird still deep in conversation, and the rest of the patrol units focused on their training.

She made her way to the target range. As she brushed past the case, her hand darted out and snatched a single vial from the case, just as quickly replacing it with the decoy.

Her pulse thrummed as the sample of Agent N disappeared into the pouch on her belt.

Nova smiled, and in that moment, Adrian glanced around at her. He noticed her expression and smiled back.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ADRIAN INSPECTED THE GUN, turning it over in his palm. He wasn’t a total ignoramus when it came to projectile weaponry, but for all the time he’d spent training and even drawing his fair share of pistols, he had never been comfortable holding one in his hand.

It hadn’t bothered him until recently. Maybe his frustration had started at the carnival, when Nova had killed the Detonator with a single shot to the head, while he had hesitated. Or maybe it was because now, with Agent N becoming a part of their regular practices, patrol units would be expected to be accomplished shooters, and he knew he was far behind the curve on that particular skill.

Not that he was the only prodigy who was less than impressive when it came to modern weaponry. Lots of Renegades preferred to use their own powers in lieu of handheld weapons. He knew plenty of patrol members who had never fired a gun. So he couldn’t be that terrible, he told himself. He couldn’t be the worst.

But then Nova appeared at the station next to him and he couldn’t help sneaking glimpses at her while she checked the cartridge and the safety mechanism as efficiently as if she used tranquilizer guns every day.

Once she was finished with her inspection, Nova raised the gun, gripping it in both hands, and fired. It was so fast Adrian wondered if she’d even bothered to take aim at anything, but a glance at the targets showed her dart dead center in a distant bull’s-eye.

On Nova’s other side, Danna gave a low whistle. “Nice one, Insomnia. I sure am glad you’re on our side.”

Nova seemed to tense at the comment, but didn’t respond.

Exhaling, Adrian lifted his own gun and assessed the range before him. There were bull’s-eyes of all sizes, some near and some far. And there were other targets, too—from cardboard cutouts of known villains from the Age of Anarchy to an assortment of bottles, cans, and ceramic pots. He noticed that there was even a framed WANTED poster of Hawthorn.

Bracing for the recoil, he aimed at the poster and fired.

His dart sailed over the poster and struck the distant wall.

“Psst, Nova.”

Adrian turned. Oscar was peering around at Nova from the last station.

Nova fired another dart, knocking down a glass bottle, then lowered her gun. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could make me a cane gun, like one those fancy gentlemen in the Victorian era had? Because I’m thinking, if we’re all going to be carrying guns now, I might as well keep it classy, right?”

Before Nova could answer, Thunderbird came by, pacing behind the line of firing stations. “While you’re familiarizing yourselves with your weapons, I want each of you to consider how you and your teammates can make use of your unique abilities in conjunction with the Agent N projectiles. Being able to think fast on your feet and use the resources available to you during an altercation is often what separates the victorious from the defeated.”

The sounds of darts peppering the targets thumped in Adrian’s ears.

“Try to think outside the box. How can your abilities make more efficient use of Agent N?”

“I could dip my tail in the serum,” said a nasally voice. Raymond Stern, or Stingray—one of Genissa’s team members. “It would pierce an enemy as easily as a dart would.”

“Good, good,” said Thunderbird. “That’s an excellent point. Though I think it will be most prudent to stick with the darts for now as, of course, if you happened to have even a small cut on your tail it could become infected with the serum, and we wouldn’t want that.”

“Wouldn’t we?” Nova muttered.

Adrian shot her a knowing smile.

“Anyone else have any thoughts on using Agent N cohesively with your powers?”

“I could tip an ice spear with it,” said Frostbite. She pulled her gun’s trigger and sent a projectile into the face of the Rat—a long-dead Anarchist. “Or freeze an enemy’s feet to the floor, holding them immobile while we administer the shot.”

“Very good,” said Thunderbird.

Nova lowered her gun and spun away from the targets. “Except,” she said, practically yelling, “if you can freeze someone’s feet to the floor and render them immobile, then they’re no longer a threat and there’s no longer any need to administer Agent N. In that case, the prodigy should be arrested and put under trial.” She turned fiery eyes on the Councilwoman. “Right?”

Thunderbird nodded calmly, unfazed. “You are correct, Insomnia. But for the purposes of this exercise, I only want ideas for how one might use their powers with relation to this new tool. I would rather not edit our suggestions quite yet.”

“And how will your power be utilized?” said Frostbite, smirking at Nova. “Maybe you can invite your opponent over for a slumber party and wait for them to fall asleep before injecting them? It’s a bit time-consuming, but we all have to play to our strengths.”

Beside her, Trevor snickered. “Maybe her boyfriend can draw her a slingshot.”

“Good idea,” snapped Ruby. “That way we can all watch Nova slingshot one of the darts straight into your eye.”

“That’s enough,” said Thunderbird, her glare slicing through them. “I want each of you to spend the next few days considering the question, and we’ll discuss it further at the next session. In the meantime, let’s keep practicing with the targets.”

As the teams returned their attention to the shooting range, Adrian stared at Genissa’s group, puzzled. He knew they were just trying to get a reaction out of Nova, who had humiliated Trevor during the trials, but still. Everyone here knew that Nova was one of the best shots of all the patrol units. Her talent with weaponry was unmatched, and her inventions had helped them time and again. Hell, she’d been the one to take out the Detonator! Were they really still under the impression that Nova, of all people, wasn’t worthy of being a Renegade?

Shaking his head, he lifted his gun and again focused on the poster of Hawthorn. He tried to call on his angry feelings—how frustrated he had been when she got away with those drugs, how embarrassed he’d felt when she dumped him into the river, and right in front of Nova too.

Not that Nova knew it was him. But a small part of him still hoped that someday he would be able to tell her the truth.

He was imagining Hawthorn’s smug face and preparing to pull the trigger when a dart struck the board just above Hawthorn’s shoulder.

Ruby huffed. “So close.”

Adrian smiled. Clearly he wasn’t the only one holding a grudge.

“Hey, you guys know about that gala that’s coming up?” said Oscar. He was perched on the short wall that divided the range from the shooters, passing the handgun from palm to palm, apparently uninterested in actually shooting it.

“Of course,” said Ruby, without lowering her gun. She took another shot. “It’s like the whole organization is going.”

Oscar scratched his ear. “Yeah, I heard it’s turning out to be this real swanky affair. And now, with the fund-raiser auction, it’s like … for a good cause and stuff.” Oscar took out the magazine from his gun, flipped it over a few times, then clipped it back in. “I was thinking it might be fun if we all went together. I heard we can bring family, too, so I thought I’d mention it to my mom, and…” He glanced up, quickly, then back down. Ruby’s attention was glued to the targets, but Adrian caught the look. The fidgeting, the nerves. “I thought maybe you could bring your brothers too, Ruby.”