“One moment, Detonator,” said Leroy, putting himself between Ingrid and the car. “I think it will be best if you find other accommodations.”
She recoiled. “Excuse me?”
“You acted rashly at the library today, and this is the result. You brought this on us, and the Renegades will focus their efforts now on finding you above all else. I’m afraid I cannot permit you to come with us.”
Her nostrils flared and she turned to Nova. “None of this would have happened if she hadn’t been confused about her loyalties.”
“Me?” yelled Nova. “If you’d just warned Cronin like you were supposed to—”
“If you’d just killed those Renegades, like you were supposed to!”
“Well maybe,” said Nova, her voice rising, “you should have bothered to tell me your plan, rather than leading me right into your stupid trap!”
“You wouldn’t have had the nerve to go through with it! You never follow through. You never pull the trigger when it counts, Nova. You might be Ace’s niece, but you are not one of us!”
“Enough,” Leroy growled, grabbing Ingrid’s arm. She snarled and turned her hate-filled gaze toward him, energy sparking around her fingertips. “You lost us the Librarian. You brought the Renegades to our door. If anyone is no longer an Anarchist, it’s you.” Without taking his focus from Ingrid, he nodded toward the car. “Nova, get in.”
“No.”
Leroy turned to her, surprised.
Pacing to the car, Nova tossed the duffel bag into the trunk and slammed it shut. “As far as any of them know, I’m a Renegade. I don’t need to run, or hide.” She shot one last glare at Ingrid, then nodded at Leroy and Honey. “See you at home.”
She walked away. It wasn’t long before she heard the squeal of tires. She glanced back in time to see the car turning the corner. Ingrid was not inside, but even as Nova scanned the street, she could find no sign of her.
Dragging in a long breath, Nova made her way back to the café where she’d buried her communication band and strapped it back to her wrist. She did not linger long on the city streets, but headed into a nearby alley and up the rickety fire escape of an apartment building, one she’d climbed hundreds of times. When she reached the top, she crossed the roof to where she could see Renegade Headquarters in the distance, the tower lit up in white and red like a beacon. Enormous spotlights around its spire shone disks of white on the clouds overhead.
Nova swung one leg over the concrete parapet and laid down, letting her foot dangle. She turned her face up to the sky and let herself breathe deeply for the first time in what seemed like weeks. Her hair and clothes stank of smoke. Her muscles were wound as tight as springs and she found it difficult to relax now that there was no one to fight, nowhere to run.
Dusk was turning fast to night. Though the sky was full of clouds, to the east those clouds were tinted deep purple and heather gray. Somewhere beyond the gloom, the sun was setting.
And she listened.
To a chorus of dogs barking at one another from building to building. To the screams of a couple who were arguing in the apartments below. To the sirens that echoed up from distant streets. Sirens meant Renegades, and she imagined some patrol unit, somewhere, rushing to help whoever needed it. Maybe even rushing to help their comrades trapped down in the subway tunnels.
She knew Adrian, Ruby, and Oscar wouldn’t have been down there, otherwise she would have been called to action, too, as part of the team. But how many Renegades had been a part of the raid? How many were hurt? How many had died?
Ingrid had set off another war today, and the Anarchists had just won their first battle. Would they be celebrating tonight, without her? Or would they be mourning the loss of their home, the loss of that little bit of independence their arrangement with the Council had afforded them … even, perhaps, the loss of Ingrid?
Nova shut her eyes and thought, if she were a villain worthy of the name, she would be with them now. Celebrating, or mourning.
And if she were a hero, she would be hurrying to help any Renegades who might be trapped and hurt beneath the rubble.
Instead, she listened to the sounds of a city in distress, and did nothing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“THE COUNCIL WILL SEE YOU NOW.”
Adrian looked up. Prism stood before them, a woman whose body was made entirely of crystal that reflected a variety of rainbows when she moved. She had been on the administration staff since Adrian was a kid, and he had one fond memory of a potluck at Blacklight’s apartment in which Prism had entertained Adrian for hours by making Blacklight’s cat chase little dots of colored light around the floor.
Today, though, she was all professionalism as she led Adrian and the others toward the elevator. Once they had piled inside, he looked around at his team. Ruby was biting her lower lip, looking almost fearful. Oscar was leaning against the wall, inspecting his fingernails. And Nova was doing what she always did—observing. Her blue eyes scouring every inch of the elevator, darting from the security camera in the ceiling to the emergency call button on the wall to the series of numbers over the door.
The elevator shot upward so fast Adrian’s stomach swooped. The back wall was made of glass and as they cleared the roof of the next building, the skyline presented itself, all the way to the Stockton Bridge. It was a clear day, and with the sun overhead the city looked almost iridescent, with golden light glinting off thousands of windows and wispy amethyst clouds gliding in from the south.
“You’ve been up here before, haven’t you, Adrian?” asked Prism, light and jovial.
“Nope,” he said.
“Really?” she said. “Not even just to visit?”
“I try not to bother them if it can be avoided.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’re never a bother.” She grinned. The sunlight off her teeth made the wall glitter with pink and yellow spots.
The doors dinged and Prism exited first, her bare feet clipping on the floor.