“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.

“Where are the others?” said Leroy.

Nova surveyed the catacombs and the black stairwell, but could see no sign of more. “She must have only sent one to spy on us.” Or me, she thought.

Nova shivered, spooked by what a close call it was. She wondered how Danna had found them here, but her mind immediately supplied the answer.

Danna had been following her. For how long? What else had she seen?

“Well,” said Ace, “it seems easy enough to kill.”

He lifted one hand, and the pillowcase floated into the air, nearing the candle flame.

“No, wait!”

Ace peered at her.

Killing one butterfly wouldn’t have much of an effect on Danna. The Sentinel had obliterated dozens of them at the parade, and she’d emerged with horrendous burn marks on one side of her body. But to kill just one would be no more devastating to her than a paper cut.

But—to trap one was a different story. It was her greatest weakness. To return to her human form, Danna needed all of her living lepidopterans to unite. If even one was kept separate, she would be trapped in swarm mode until it could merge with the others.

Nova could only guess how many of her secrets the Renegade had discovered by now. Her true identity would be revealed. Ace would be found. They would be ruined.

She could not allow Danna to reform.

“We need to keep it alive,” she said, and did her best to explain Danna’s power, her weaknesses, and the risks.

Ace held Nova’s gaze for a long moment, then acquiesced. “As you say.” The candle returned to its stand and the pillowcase, with the butterfly trapped inside, dropped into Leroy’s hands. The butterfly seemed to have gone still inside.

“How many more are in her swarm?” said Leroy.

“Hundreds,” said Nova. “Maybe a thousand. And she can be sneaky with them.” She peered around again, feeling watched. The creatures were so small. They could fit into such tiny nooks, and so long as they held still, it would be nearly impossible in this darkness to spot them. “But as long as that one doesn’t get away, she shouldn’t be a threat.”

“Oh, good,” said Honey, wiggling her fingers. “A pretty new pet.”

Nova smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t find the strength to believe her own words.

Danna was a Renegade, and a good one.

She was definitely still a threat.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

THE GALA WAS BEING HELD in an old, stately building that had once been a train depot, all brick and domed glass ceilings and high windows, though for years the station had sat abandoned. Once the Renegades had claimed power over Gatlon City, they had made the building one of their first “community projects.” Blacklight, in particular, had insisted that if they were going to get involved in the world of international politics, they would need a place to entertain visiting dignitaries, and Renegade Headquarters wasn’t going to suffice.

Besides, he’d argued, it was one piece of the city’s history that could be brought back to life with relative ease. The Renegades hoped to restore the city to what it had been before the days of Ace Anarchy—no, they wanted to make it grander than it ever had been before—and this was as good a place to start as any.

Adrian had arrived early, along with his dads, to do what he could to help set up. Mostly he had spent the afternoon drawing lavish flower bouquets for the table centerpieces, and he was just beginning to feel like he would be happy to never draw another calla lily again when Tsunami told him to go get changed. He was grateful for the work, though. It had kept his mind preoccupied, at least in part, when he couldn’t stop thinking about the night before.

His skin warmed every time he remembered the feeling of Nova’s lips against his and her hand on the back of his neck and the weight of her body in his arms. And then … and then …

Nothing.

Because he’d fallen asleep.

During the kiss? Or after? It was all a blur. He’d been electrified, overcome with sensation. Then he’d been blinking himself awake while movie credits scrolled and Nova smiled at him as if nothing unusual had happened at all.

She’d been so cool about it, like it was no big deal, like it happened all the time, and he appreciated how gracious she was. But still. Still.

He must have the timeline wrong. He couldn’t have fallen asleep during the kiss. They must have gone back to watching the movie at some point, and then—and only then—did he drift off.

That, at least, was a little less mortifying.

If only a little.

But his memory was unreliable. Nova—kissing—and … credits.

He must have been more tired than he’d realized after the fight with Frostbite’s team, on top of so many late nights spent working on the mural.

At least she was still going to be his date to the gala. He hadn’t ruined it—whatever it was. This new terrifying, wonderful thing.

Standing before a mirror in the restroom, his dress shirt left unbuttoned, Adrian peeled the bandaging from his chest to check on the newest tattoo. It was still weeping spots of blood and there was mottled bruising staggered across the left side of his chest. He was becoming used to the healing process and knew that it would get worse before it got better. Soon, the tattoo would enter the scabby peeling stage, complete with a relentless itch that would make him want to attack it with sandpaper. That was always the worst part. At least the tattooing itself—the constant pricks of the needle into his skin—only lasted about an hour. The itching went on for days.

He started to bend over the sink to wash away the spots of blood, but the movement sent a jolt of pain through his side. He flinched and pressed his hand to the place beneath his ribs where he’d been punctured by one of Genissa’s ice spears. The wound wasn’t deep—his armor had taken the brunt of it—but without the aid of the Renegade healers he knew it would be sore for a while. He had done the best he could to dress the wound, drawing in his own stitches and regularly applying ointment to fend off infection.