Page 125 of Supernova

His shoulders fell under the weight of the ropes that bound him.

Nova reached for Adrian’s hand, placing two fingers against his knuckle. He flinched at the touch and thought, just for a moment, he might have seen hurt flash through Nova’s eyes. But it was his imagination, because a second later her expression had hardened into something cold and impenetrable.

“Everyone has a nightmare,” she said. “I guess I’m yours.”

That was the last he remembered before darkness claimed him.

CHAPTER FORTY

“WELL, ISN’T THATclever,” said Queen Bee, inspecting the bottom of Adrian’s bare foot. He did his best to ignore her. He’d been trying to ignore the whole lot of them, the ever-revolving door of Anarchists and villains, even as they’d attempted increasingly obnoxious tactics to get a reaction from him.

His eyes stayed resolutely on Nova whenever she was in the room.

Hereyes stayed resolutely away.

“Springs,” said Queen Bee, trailing a sharp fingernail down the sole of Adrian’s foot. He did his best to stifle a twitch. “To jump farther. Isn’t that clever, sweetie?”

He was pretty suresweetie, in this case, was Nova, but it was hard to tell, as Nova seemed as determined to ignore Queen Bee as he was.

Having Honey Harper inspect the soles of his feet was the last in a long line of indignities Adrian had endured since his capture. He did not know what had become of Oscar and Danna, or wherehe was inside the cathedral. When he had come to, he was inside a small circular chapel. In comparison to the magnificence of the nave, the chapel felt like an afterthought, so dreary and insignificant that Adrian wondered if the saint it was named for might have done something that annoyed the architect in charge of honoring him. Besides a smooth black altar and a series of narrow stained-glass windows, it felt barren. Echoing stone walls, hard stone floors. The atmosphere wasn’t much improved by its moody dimness, either. Adrian had no way of knowing what time it was, as no sunlight, or moonlight for that matter, could permeate the structure Ace had erected over the cathedral, leaving them shrouded in constant darkness. Their only light came from a small gas lantern in the corner that sent their shadows flickering and shifting across the walls.

Adrian was tied up with his back against the frigid altar. One of the villains had cut away the sleeves and collar from his shirt, revealing the tattoos on his arms and chest.

Nova frequently came in and out of the chapel, dressed in full battle regalia. Her belt was strapped with two different guns, ropes, darts and ammunition, gloves, flares, a hunting knife, and those awful throwing stars Nightmare had always been so fond of. But for some reason, she had left off the metal mask, and though Adrian knew he shouldn’t assign this any significance, he couldn’t help it.

Without the mask, he still didn’t see her as Nightmare. He could only see Nova.

Nova, who had betrayed him a hundred different ways. But still Nova.

He had tried to ask her where Oscar and Danna had been taken, if they were okay, but she seemed determined to stay silent. He wasn’t sure if she was there to keep him from trying to escape, or just to make sure he wasn’t being mistreated.

Perhaps the worst part was that Phobia came and went, too. It had taken Adrian a while to notice him at first, watching silently from a corner. The room was so dark, and he held so still, that at times the villain seemed more like a figment of Adrian’s imagination.

He was real, though. He was very real, and every time Adrian noticed him, a chill swept down his spine. Phobia’s cruel words, spoken as he stood over Callum’s body, echoed back to Adrian again and again.

One cannot be awed who has no soul, just as one cannot be brave who has no fear…

It was him. Adrian knew it now, had known it the moment Phobia said those hateful words. The note left on her body. The unbridled terror on her face.

Phobia had killed Adrian’s mother.

Adrian sneered, baring his teeth at the villain, whose only response was to spin the scythe in a steady circle over his head.

The news reports had said that Lady Indomitable had plummeted to her death from a seven-story building. There were no other wounds, no injuries that weren’t direct results of the fall. Whatever Phobia had done to her, whatever he had shown her, it had frightened her enough that, for a moment, she’d forgotten she could fly. She had been petrified. Scared, literally, to death.

What didn’t make sense was how Nova could possibly be on the side of thatthing.

But he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. His mother had been a Renegade. Nova was an Anarchist. What did Nova care that Lady Indomitable had been murdered more than ten years ago? One less superhero to deal with.

He was grateful when Phobia finally left, vanishing from the room as silently as he’d come.

Cyanide, too, disappeared some time ago, muttering about an experiment, and Adrian hadn’t seen the mirror walker since they’d arrived. A handful of others had come and gone. A few of them he recognized from past Renegade trials—prodigies who, like the Crane, had not been accepted into the Renegades. A few of them he was sure had been wanted for various crimes around the city, frequently hunted by patrol units. It made him wish he’d done more as the Sentinel to track down known criminals and see them apprehended.

“Have I missed any?” asked Queen Bee, shining a flashlight over Adrian’s arms, twisting his wrists against the bindings. “Let’s see… that’s the fire, the castle wall thing, the jumping, the suit, the… what is this?” She dug a fingernail into his right forearm. “Oh, right, the laser thing.” Her expression switched from jovial to vicious. “I recall that one intimately.”

Adrian glowered back. “You were trying to kill my father,” he said, breaking his own vow of silence.

She clucked at him. “Your father shouldn’t have stabbed my Acey.”

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