Page 83 of Renegades

Nova’s eyes widened.

“Once in my arm,” said Ruby, glancing down at her bandaged arm. “Twice in my chest. Once right here.” She pointed at a spot near her stomach. “I knew he was going to kill me. But then… well, here.” She unclipped the end of the bandage and began to unwrap it from her arm, uncovering her flesh just enough that Nova could see a deep and, apparently, very recent wound. It began to bleed as soon as the bandage was removed, the red blood dripping down into the crease of her elbow, trickling toward her fingers.

Until…

Nova’s lips parted and she leaned closer, mesmerized, as the blood began to harden into sharp, symmetrical formations that jutted upward from the wound.

“I didn’t know what was happening,” said Ruby, “but I started to fight back. I ripped off the Jackal’s mask and stabbed him in the eye.”

Nova’s jaw dropped even more.

“Which sounds really brave in hindsight,” added Ruby, “but all I remember is how terrified I was. It was more instinct than anything else. But it worked—the Jackals ran off after that and they never came back.”

Ruby swiped her other hand across the gash, snapping the crystals off at their base with a quietcrack.She tossed them into the corner, where they shattered amid the piles of paper and debris.

“I’ve bled rubies ever since. They’ll form on new wounds for a little while, but those tend to heal pretty fast. Whereas the places where he stabbed me…” She started to wrap the bandage around her arm again, securing it tight. “They never stop bleeding. They never healed.”

Nova stared at the glistening gems on the floor, then back at Ruby. “What about the alias?” she asked. “Smokescreen and Sketch make perfect sense, and I get the Red part, but… Assassin?”

Ruby’s whole face brightened. “Actually, my brothers came up with it. It was kind of an inside joke. We used to pretend we were superheroes when we were kids—like everyone does, right?”

Nova didn’t answer.

“So they made up names for all of us. Jade was the Green Machine, Sterling was the Silver Snake, and I became Red Assassin.”

Nova looked at the stone dangling from Ruby’s wrist. She could still distinctly recall the feel of her ruby dagger pressed against her throat. “So… you’ve never…?”

“What? Killed someone?” Ruby guffawed. “Not so far.” Then she grew suddenly serious. “I mean, Iwouldkill someone. If I had to.”

“But it’s always a last resort,” added Adrian.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” said Nova, knowing she wasn’t, “but didn’t Renegades used to kill people all the time? Back during the Age of Anarchy, there were always stories about them taking out members of the villain gangs.”

“New rules,” said Adrian, “new regulations. We’re always supposed to bring them in to custody as peacefully as we can, and avoid unnecessary violence whenever possible.”

Nova gaped at him. It felt so… so silly, in comparison to what she had been taught all her life. The strong over the weak. An eye for an eye. If someone wronged you or yours, then you did what you had to do to ensure it didn’t happen again.

Which often meant killing the one who had wronged you.

Every one of the Anarchists had countless deaths on their hands. She could remember nights when they sat around talking about their most brutal kills. Bragging about them. Laughing about them. When they’d developed the plan for Nova to take out Captain Chromium, Leroy had joked about throwing her a party afterward, to commemorate her first kill.

Her first.

Because they all assumed there would be more to follow. Even Nova had assumed it.

So why did the thought suddenly make her uneasy? Because she’d failed the mission? Or was it something else?

“Hey, guys,” said Oscar, pressing a hand against the window. “The back door’s open.”

They all sprang to their feet—even Nova, and for a moment she forgot that the last thing she wanted them to witness was suspicious activity happening in that alleyway. But when they’d all clustered around Oscar, they saw that it was only a girl taking out a garbage sack and throwing it onto a pile beside the nearest dumpster.

Nova recognized Narcissa, Gene Cronin’s granddaughter, but none of the others seemed to know who she was.

Narcissa let the dumpster lid slam shut and brushed her hands off on her pants before retreating back into the library.

Oscar grumbled. “False alarm.”

“Should we go through their garbage?” said Ruby. “Do you think they’re throwing away any incriminating evidence?”

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