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.
No more convoluted loyalties. No more uncertain agendas. No more secrets, no more lies.
She was an Anarchist—a villain, if that’s what it made her.
She was Nightmare.
She slammed the trunk shut. “Give me one hour,” she called to Leroy. “Drive around until then, just in case we were followed.”
“Do you think I’m an amateur?” Cyanide smirked, one elbow hanging out of the window. “I’ll be here.”
Nova waited until he sped away, tires squealing through the garage. She tugged down her sleeve to make sure the star was covered again, and then she ran.
She stayed in the shadows and the stairwells, checking around every corner, confirming that the streets were clear, the alleys empty. Soon she was standing outside a little-used back entrance to Renegade Headquarters, where deliveries were made and foreign dignitaries were brought inside when they were worried the tourists and journalists would make too much fuss over them. There was a security camera two stories up, but it was angled at the doorway—the building’s most vulnerable entrance.
Nova would not be going in through any doors.
She lurked beside a dumpster long enough to be sure no one had seen her approach, then tilted her head up and assessed the climb. The sides of the building were smooth, but there were enough ledges around the windows that she would have footholds when necessary.
It would be difficult to scale, but nothing she couldn’t handle.
She pressed the switch on the back of the gloves, sending a jolt of electricity through the material. Suction cups emerged on her palms and fingertips. Nova reached overhead and pressed her hand against the building’s side. The gloves took her weight and she started to climb.
As she passed the third story, the fourth, the tenth, the buildings around her began to drop away. She scanned their rooftops and water towers and began to feel exposed, but she knew, logically, that she had little to worry about. The funny thing about living in a city full of skyscrapers was that no one ever looked up.
Besides, the sense of vulnerability was something she’d begun to get used to. Nova had been paranoid from the moment she’d stepped foot into the arena for the Renegade trials. She had been painfully aware of the narrow ledge she was teetering on from the start.
There was a part of her—possibly a big part—that felt more relieved than anxious as she reached the twenty-sixth floor, the first of many that remained unused, and only one floor up from the security offices. No matter what happened here tonight, she would no longer have to lie.
Planting her feet on a windowsill and securing her hand against the exterior wall, Nova reached for the window breaker hooked over her belt. She fit the cylinder into the bottom corner of the window and pressed the lever, releasing the spring-loaded spike.
The window shattered. Tiny bits of glass rained across the sill and toward the street, sounding like wind chimes as it clinked onto the concrete below. Nova used the breaker to brush away the remaining sharp edges and ducked inside.
The floor was as empty now as it had been when she’d scoped it out earlier that day after inspecting the blueprints she’d taken from Adrian’s house. There were no cameras installed here. No sensors. No alarms.
She jogged to the stairwell and slipped down to the twenty-fifth floor. The door opened on a plain beige hallway that was roped off just outside the stairwell, with a sign that read SECURITY PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.
Nova stepped over the rope and crept down the hall. It was lined with closed doors and ID tag scanners. She didn’t slow when she heard footsteps coming from the next hallway, though she was surprised when an unfamiliar woman turned the corner. Rather than the gray Renegade uniform, she was wearing a smart navy suit with an ID tag clipped to the breast pocket.
An administrator, Nova guessed. Not a prodigy.
The woman froze when she saw Nova, her eyes widening.
Nova ripped off one of the gloves and leaped for her. The woman sucked in a breath, but her scream never came. The second Nova’s fingers touched the woman’s neck, her power rushed through her. With a strangled moan, the woman slumped forward into Nova’s arms.
Nova deposited her in an alcove beneath a drinking fountain and snagged the ID tag.
She moved faster now, almost running until she came to the room that had been labeled as the security center on the blueprints. She held the woman’s tag against the scanner and it blinked green. Nova turned the handle and pushed open the door.
She was greeted by a wall of monitors showing a hundred different views of headquarters, and two empty chairs.
Nova stepped into the room.
Something whipped out from behind the door, stabbing her in the thigh. Nova cried out as the barb ripped out of her, leaving a gash in her pants. She buckled to one knee, feeling like her leg had just had a bite taken out of it. Within seconds the flesh around the wound started to burn, as a trail of blood dribbled to the floor.
“Are you messing with me?”
She looked up. Standing over her, Stingray slammed the door shut, his face twisted in disgust.
“You give Sketch and his loser friends all that trouble, and this is all you’ve got? I saw you on the cameras the second you stepped into the stairwell.” He gestured toward the bank of screens. “What a waste. Thought you were supposed to be some hotshot villain.” Sneering, he crouched at her side. “At least we’ve got a few minutes to kill before that paralysis wears off. Might as well see who we’ve got here.”
He reached for her mask. Nova ground her teeth, resisting the urge to pull away as his clammy fingers dug beneath the sides of the metal.
His fingertips brushed her jawline, and that was all she needed. Skin touching skin.