With the helmet, however … he would be unstoppable. He could destroy the Renegades and everything they had built, almost single-handedly. The Renegades had gotten lucky when they defeated him last time using Max and his power absorption. The Anarchists wouldn’t fall prey to such a trick again.

“Good, good.” Ace exhaled. “Learn what you can about this Agent N, but do not lose sight of your main objective. Use the boy if you must.”

Nova blinked. “The Bandit?”

Ace wheezed. The coughing fit had left his face splotchy and red, and though his breaths were still rattling, he looked almost energized. “Does he have my helmet?”

“Um … I don’t think…” She trailed off.

Oh.

He meant the other boy.

“Your companionship with the Everhart boy remains one of the greatest assets you’ve acquired so far,” he said. “His name and family alliances come with their own sort of power, one we may need to exploit.”

“Yes, power,” said Honey, her eyes laughing in the candlelight. “I told you it was attractive.”

Nova glowered at her. “I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to … exploit Adrian. He’s the leader of my patrol unit, but we haven’t really … spoken a whole lot lately.”

It was a simple truth, but one that made her breath hitch.

Things had not been the same ever since the carnival, and Nova knew it was her fault. Adrian had tried to kiss her. For a moment, she had even thought that she might want him to kiss her. That she might like it.

But she’d blown it. She ran away. Literally ran. She couldn’t even remember what excuse she gave at the time, but she could clearly recall the rejection that flashed across his features.

He hadn’t made any attempts to kiss her since. He hadn’t asked her on any more semi-dates. He hadn’t tried to get her alone or bring her sandwiches in the middle of the night or stop by her house to see if she was okay. All those things that had seemed like such a nuisance before, but now …

Much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she missed him. She missed the way he used to look at her. No one had ever looked at her quite the way that Adrian Everhart did.

“You are afraid…,” Phobia rasped. “Afraid to feel too deeply, afraid that the truth will—”

“Okay,” Nova interrupted, almost shouting. “Don’t need the evaluation right now, thank you.”

“Is there a problem?” asked Leroy. “You’re not fighting with your team, are you?”

She shook her head. “No, everything’s fine. We’ve just been busy with patrols, and I … I’m so focused on finding the helmet, and uncovering the Council’s weaknesses, and … lots of other really important reconnaissance-type things.”

“Ah, but, child,” said Ace, “we already know one of the Council’s greatest weaknesses.” He chuckled, and the sound made Nova squirm. “You have befriended the son of our enemies. Do not squander this gift. Earn his trust. Earn his respect.” He paused, before adding, “Earn his affection. And when the time is right, we will use him to considerable advantage indeed.”

Nova’s skin prickled at the thought of earning Adrian’s affection, but she forced herself to nod. “Of course. I’ll do my best.”

Her best. To find the helmet. To learn more about Agent N. To get close to Adrian Everhart. Her chest squeezed under the weight of their growing expectations.

She was doing her best, but at the moment, she was doing her best not to let her escalating panic show.

She could do this. She would not fail.

“I know, little Nightmare,” said Ace. “I have faith in you. And when you succeed, we will rise again. We will all rise again.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

NOVA STEPPED OFF the elevator onto the fourteenth floor of headquarters. She had expected a space as modern and chic as the main lobby downstairs, or the Council’s offices on the top floor, or the training halls in the sublevels. She’d expected glossy white furniture and industrial fixtures. She’d expected an elaborate request-and-retrieve system, automated with computers and machinery. She’d expected a bustling laboratory, where weapons were inspected and relics were preserved. Having worked in the weapons-cataloging system, she knew how expansive the collection was, and she’d imagined the actual storage facility would be as elaborate and heavily monitored as the research and development division, or the virtual-reality training rooms.

And so, from the moment she stepped onto the floor housing the weapons and artifacts storerooms, she found her lip curling with surprise—and disappointment.

The small reception area was unassuming in every way. Two mismatched wooden desks greeted her, though there was no one behind either desk. One held nothing but a computer, a jar of pens, and a clipboard. The second desk, on the other hand, was cluttered with snow globes and elephant figurines and an unhappy ivy plant in a garishly painted ceramic pot. A day-by-day paper calendar was almost a week behind schedule. A Blacklight-branded coffee mug held an array of scissors, hole punchers, and candy sticks, along with a variety of pens that sprouted fake flowers from their ends.

A small plaque read:

TINA LAWRENCE

“SNAPSHOT”

DIRECTOR, WEAPONS AND ARTIFACTS

Someone had drawn a smiley face next to Tina Lawrence’s name in glittery ink.

The two desks were hemmed in by walls on all sides, though a large door stood cracked open to Nova’s right, from which Nova heard upbeat whistling. She approached the door and nudged it open farther. The room beyond was filled with filing cabinets. A woman who must have been close to seventy was bent over a drawer, riffling through the files. She had a fringe of stark-white hair and spectacles with purple cat-eye frames. She paused at a file and dropped a small plastic baggie full of tiny stones into the folder, then slammed the drawer shut. She grabbed a clipboard from the top of the cabinet, checked something off, and turned.

Spotting Nova, she cried out in surprise and nearly toppled over, clutching the clipboard to her chest.

“Sorry,” said Nova. “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. I’m—”

“Nova McLain, yes, yes, of course,” said the woman, sheepishly taking off her reading glasses and setting them on top of her head. “Is it ten o’clock already?”

“Not quite. I’m early.” Nova glanced at the bin of plastic bags the woman had been sorting, but couldn’t see what was inside them. “Should I come back?”

“Oh no, you’re fine.” The woman strode toward her and offered a hand. “I’m Tina.”

Nova accepted the handshake. Though the offer of skin-to-skin contact had struck her as remarkably trusting when she first joined the Renegades, she’d gotten used to it. It was a small reminder that no one knew who she really was.

“Snapshot, right?” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I was curious about the alias.”

Tina tapped a finger against her temple. “I can tell by inspecting an object whether or not it’s been imbued with extraordinary powers. When my eyes land on a prodigious object, it is as though a shutter on a camera closes on my vision, forever storing that object in my memory. It’s handy in my line of work here, but not much else.”

Nova searched her tone for resentment, but couldn’t find any.

Tina brushed past her into the small reception area. “Let’s get you set up. You can start familiarizing yourself with the system. Callum will be in soon and he can show you around.” She dropped her clipboard on the cluttered desk and walked behind the desk that was mostly empty. “He’s in charge of stocking and maintenance. Once you’re familiar with the system, we are going to need a lot of help back in the vault.”

“Vault?” said Nova, ears perking.

Tina waved a hand absently toward the back wall. “That’s just what we call it. There’s been a surplus of new items coming in lately, what with the library and the Anarchist holdings. I’ve got an entire shelf back there full of confiscated hair accessories from Queen Bee herself, believe it or not.”

Nova coughed. “Do you?”

“Left behind when the Anarchists abandoned their lair.”

She said lair like it was an unmentionable word.

“But for now,” Snapshot continued, her tone brightening, “I think we’ll have you monitor the rentals. This is our checkout form.” She nudged the clipboard with a mostly blank chart toward Nova. “Not the most high-tech system, but you know what they say. If it ain’t broke…” She trailed off.

Nova smiled tightly. She’d always felt that, just because something wasn’t broken, didn’t mean there wasn’t room for improvement. But it didn’t seem wise to be contrary in the first five minutes of her new job.

There were half a dozen sheets of paper curled over the top of the clipboard. Nova flipped the front sheet down and scanned through the columns.

She didn’t recognize any of the names or aliases on the chart, but she did recognize some of the objects they’d checked out. Nova turned the page again and her heartbeat sped up. Suncloak. Key of Truth. Zenith’s Pocket Watch.

“I didn’t know we could rent this stuff.”

“Well, you haven’t been here all that long, have you?” said Tina. “All new recruits require a ninety-day clearance before they’re given access to the stacks.”

Nova set the clipboard back on the desk. “How do we find out what’s available to be rented? Is there a catalog or something?”

“Just the database,” said Tina. “You do know about the database, don’t you?”

Nova nodded. She had spent some time cataloging the new weapons that had been confiscated from the Librarian—a black-market arms dealer—so she was familiar with the system. But no one had said anything about the information being open to all Renegades or that they could borrow the stuff.

“But there are limitations on it, right? You wouldn’t just let anyone come in here and take”—Nova hesitated, scanning her own words to make sure she wasn’t overplaying her cards, before continuing—“I don’t know. Ace Anarchy’s helmet, or something.”