The weapon pressed into her palm.

 

Could she take one of them out, right now, at this very moment?

 

It would be her end, without a doubt. If she wasn’t killed instantly, she would be captured and imprisoned for life.

 

But still—the possibility was there. The potential.

 

If not now, if not today, then soon. An opportunity would arise, and she would be ready for it.

 

With a painful swallow, she forced her hand to release its grip on the pen, just as the two Council members turned into a hallway and disappeared.

 

“I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

 

Disoriented, Nova spun back to Sampson Cartwright, who was watching her with a knowing, serious look. Her heart stuttered and that sense of vulnerability returned. Was her hatred written so plainly on her face? Were her thoughts so easily deciphered?

 

Or … worse …

 

Her breaths stuttered as she leaned toward Sampson. “Are you a telepath?”

 

Sampson stared at her, speechless for a moment, then released a hearty laugh. “I wish! I’m not even a prodigy. But, come on … everyone gets a little star struck the first time they see the Council up close.” He gestured at the pen clipped to her belt. “You can ask for an autograph next time. Don’t worry. They get it all the time, and they’re actually really nice about it.”

 

Nova sank back, relieved that this stranger hadn’t been reading her mind while she stood there plotting against his precious Council, but also dismayed that he had so utterly misinterpreted her expression.

 

She was saved from the ireful response that rose up within her by her name echoing across the lobby.

 

“Nova!”

 

She turned. Smokescreen and Red Assassin were striding toward her. That same flash of adrenaline she’d felt at the arena coursed through her system at the sight of them, but it was quelled by their open smiles. For once, there was no grayish haze drifting around Smokescreen’s ankles, and Red Assassin’s gem hung innocently from the wire around her wrist. She was also carrying a bundle of gray cloth.

 

“Nova McLain,” said Smokescreen, planting his cane on the tile while he gestured around at the massive lobby with his free arm. “Welcome to HQ. You find the place all right?”

 

Nova blinked. “It’s the tallest building in the city.”

 

“He’s being witty,” said Red Assassin. She shifted the bundle of cloth to one arm and held out her hand. Ungloved. “I’m Ruby, by the way. This is Oscar.”

 

Ruby. Oscar.

 

Normal names. Normal people.

 

This time, Nova took the offered hand. Her power sparked inside her at the touch, but she smothered it with what she hoped was a friendly smile. “Nova.”

 

Rather than shaking her hand, Oscar threw an arm around her shoulders and started leading her across the lobby. Nova tensed at the contact, but he either didn’t notice or ignored it. “We are overjoyed to have you,” he said. “Come on, Adrian’s on his way in now. He said he’d meet us in the lounge.”

 

“Uh—hold on, one second,” said Nova as something startling occurred to her. She ducked out from beneath Oscar’s arm. He and Ruby stared after Nova as she darted back to the information desk. Leaning over the counter toward Sampson, she whispered, “Hey, could you tell me if there are any mind readers in the Renegades?”

 

Sampson’s eyes darted once toward Ruby and Oscar, then back to Nova. “Um. No? Not currently. We had one a few years back but she was transferred to one of our foreign embassies.”

 

Nova beamed. “Okay, great. Thanks. I was just curious.”

 

Waving, she jogged back to the others.

 

“Everything all right?” asked Ruby.

 

“Excellent,” said Nova, drawing on every reserve of enthusiasm she could find. “That guy was really helpful.”

 

“Sampson is good people,” said Oscar, nodding toward a bank of elevators. “Come on, let’s get you changed.”

 

“Changed?”

 

Trekking beside her, Ruby waggled the cloth bundle. “Say hello to your new uniform! I grabbed the size I thought would fit, but the pants might be a little long on you.” She glanced at Nova’s feet. “We have an alterations team on staff. They’ll want to fit you for a pair of boots before you leave today. You can keep your own shoes for now, but hopefully you’ll have official footwear in the next day or so. They’re sticklers for proper attire around here.”

 

“A few years ago a recruit was chasing after a purse snatcher and sprained his ankle,” said Oscar. “So now the uniform comes with boots that have ankle braces, supreme slip-resistant soles, and every other feature they could think to put into them. Great cushion too. You’ll love them.”

 

Nova forced a wan smile.

 

“Either way,” said Ruby, “this uniform will be worlds better than what you’re used to wearing, right?”

 

Nova stumbled over her own feet, picturing Nightmare’s hooded jacket and metal face mask. “Excuse me?”

 

“I’ve been to Cosmopolis Park,” said Ruby, who was practically skipping beside Nova. “Those awful uniforms, with the striped pants and those hats…” She gestured down the length of her body, and though it had been years since Nova had been to the amusement park, she could easily picture the outfit Ruby was describing, with its red-and-white-striped trousers, yellow bow tie, and straw porkpie hat.

 

She shuddered to imagine herself wearing it. “You read my application?”

 

“We wanted to get to know you a little better before you got here,” said Oscar, grinning. “Don’t worry. Your talents were completely wasted as a ride operator. You’ll be much happier here.”

 

They reached the elevators and Oscar jabbed the up button with the butt of his cane. As they stepped inside, Ruby handed the bundle to Nova, then stepped back to inspect Nova’s belt. “Are these some of your inventions?”

 

“Just a few,” Nova said. It had been difficult to decide what to bring that morning. She couldn’t bring any of her favorite weapons or gadgets, as they would all be recognized as tools Nightmare had been seen with over the past year. But she’d been asked her to bring examples of her work, so she had to pick something.

 

In the end, she’d chosen the blow-dart ink pen, a shock-wave gun that could temporarily stun an opponent up to thirty feet away, and a set of exothermic micro-flares.

 

“Cool!” said Ruby, with more fervor than Nova thought the inventions warranted. “When we’re done giving you the tour today, you should go show these down at R and D. They live for stuff like this.”

 

“Don’t tell her that!” said Oscar, as if aghast. “They’ll want to take her away from us.”

 

Ruby feigned a gasp. “Good point. Nova, you should definitely not go talk to the folks in R and D. Ever.”

 

“They’re killjoys down there, anyway,” added Oscar. “The ones that always bring the vegetable trays to the party, you know what I mean?” He gave her a knowing look.

 

“That Nightmare had better look out now that we have you on the team,” Ruby added.

 

Panic raced down Nova’s spine. “Nightmare?” she said, her voice strained. “What do you mean?”

 

“You’ve heard of her, right?” said Smokescreen. “She’s been all over the news lately.”

 

Without waiting for Nova’s answer, Ruby said, “That’s kind of her thing too. I mean, her superpower is putting people to sleep by touching them, but she also has access to some really neat weapons. There’s footage of her from a few months back scaling a building like a spider, not using any handholds. They say it has something to do with the gloves she was wearing.” She shrugged. “R and D is trying to replicate them, but I don’t think they’ve had much success so far. Still”—she tapped the shock-wave gun on Nova’s hip—“if we’d had this at the parade, she’d be history.”

 

Nova attempted an encouraging smile, not bothering to tell them that the shock-wave gun fired at a much slower velocity than a regular gun with real ammunition. She was fairly certain that Nightmare could dodge the blast just fine.

 

The elevator doors opened, and somewhat relieved to be out of the confined metal box with two of her enemies-turned-allies, Nova exhaled and followed them. They led Nova into another open space, though this one was significantly more relaxed than the lobby. More couches and TV screens, though just as many had video games being played on them as were showing the news. Vending machines lined one wall, and a number of long tables stood in front of the windows, where men and women in gray uniforms were laughing over bags of trail mix and candy clusters.

 

Nova scanned the occupants of the table, searching for hints of their abilities and weaknesses, but there was little she could discern when they were just sitting around chatting. A man with wavy black hair had a ukulele strapped to his back. A young girl had a birthmark the shape of a skeleton key along one side of her face. A woman had a small cloud of purple dust erupt from her fingers every time she snapped, evidently trying to think of a specific word that was eluding her.