She turned in a full circle, and the play of light and shadow spun with her.

Nova looked down. Gasping, she extended her arm in front of her, staring at the filigree bracelet that her father had left to her, unfinished.

Now, where those prongs had sat empty for so many years without a precious stone to fill them, there emanated the light from a single golden star.

“Oh, for all the skies,” she grumbled. She spent a minute trying to dig her fingers beneath the stone and wrench it free of the prongs, but it wouldn’t budge.

She heard the crescendo of dramatic music coming from the television in Adrian’s room. Gritting her teeth, she pulled her sleeve down over the bracelet and went back to him. The credits were rolling on the film and Adrian was still asleep on the sofa, but she knew he wouldn’t sleep much longer.

Nova nudged Adrian’s body up and nestled herself beside him. She had barely sunk into the cushions when Adrian groaned and stretched, his eyelids flittering.

He started when he saw her, quickly withdrawing the arm that she’d draped surreptitiously over her own shoulders. “Nova? I…” He scrunched his drowsy face. “What…”

She beamed, as bright as she could manage. “All that painting must have made you tired. I think you missed the whole movie.”

“I fell asleep?” He glanced at the TV, rubbing his eyes. “I … I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I slept for twenty-four hours, remember?”

“Yeah, but … we were…” His brow was crinkled as he reached for his glasses on the table and slipped them on. “Weren’t we…?” His voice trailed off.

“I need to head home,” said Nova, flushing when she thought of the kiss. “I’ll see you at the gala, okay? Try to get some more rest.”

He gaped at her, his confusion beginning to clear. “The gala. Right. I’ll see you there.”

Before she could talk herself out of it, Nova leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Good night, Adrian.”

Then she hurried back up the stairs, a star on her wrist, a medallion tucked beneath her shirt, and a cruel twinge of giddiness fluttering inside her chest.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“AND THIS SILVER SPEAR will work?” said Ace, his voice thick with disdain as they discussed the chromium pike that most of the world believed had destroyed his helmet.

“I don’t know for sure,” said Nova. “But Captain Chromium definitely implied that one of his chromium weapons would be strong enough to damage the box. If I can wield it with enough force, that is.” She frowned, letting her gaze travel between each of her companions. “I’m taking that helmet, one way or the other. If I can’t get into the box, then I’ll bring the whole thing back, and we’ll figure out a solution later.”

“Yes,” said Ace, one lip curling. “We will.”

Nova could see resentment in the shadows of his eyes, and though she didn’t think Ace’s telekinesis would be able to peel open the Captain’s box, she could tell he was keen to try.

“Maybe Leroy can concoct a solution that can burn through the chromium,” she said. “Or … or maybe there will be something else in the vault that can help. I’ve been through the database twice now and nothing seemed obvious but I’ll look again—”

A hand fell on her shoulder. Leroy was grinning at her, the scars of his face stretched taut around his lopsided mouth. “We’ll figure it out, Nova. You’ve crafted a fine plan here. Let’s take it one step at a time.”

“What are we supposed to do while you’re doing … everything?” said Honey. She pressed a hand over her mouth to cover a yawn and the flickering candlelight caught on metallic gold varnish across her nails. “We’re villains too, you know. We can handle some responsibility.”

“We are not villains,” said Ace, one hand tightening into a fist. “That may be the portrait that our enemies have painted of us, but we will not let it define us. We are freethinkers. Revolutionaries. We are the future of—”

“Oh, I know, I know,” said Honey, shooing her hand at him. “But sometimes it’s fun to meet expectations. It doesn’t mean we have to take it all so literally.”

Ace was about to say more, but then he bent over his knees in a fit of coughing. Nova jumped up from her place on the floor, but Phobia was already kneeling at Ace’s side, his skeletal fingers pressed between Ace’s shoulder blades.

No one spoke until the fit passed. The tension was palpable as Ace collapsed against the back of his chair, wheezing. “Just … bring me my helmet,” he said, fixing his eyes on Nova. “Please.”

“I will,” she whispered. “I promise I will.”

“Your fears will not come to pass,” Phobia hissed, and with his face shrouded in darkness, Nova couldn’t tell who he was speaking to. “Your great vision will not be devoured by the passing of time. All will not be for nothing.”

Ace, then, she thought, as her uncle gave an appreciative nod at the cloaked figure.

“I hope you are right, my friend,” he said. He stood, leaning on Phobia’s shoulder for a moment. “I am proud of you, my little Nightmare. I know this has not been easy, but your trials are nearing an end. Soon, I will be strong again, and I will take the torch that you have lit and lead us into a new era.”

He stooped over Nova and cupped her face. His skin was as cold as the tomb itself.

“Thank you, Uncle,” she said. “Now, please, go rest.”

He made no argument as he limped toward the once-lavish four-poster bed. A curtain of bones fell, dividing the room in a melody of hollow clatters, hiding him from view.

“After all these years,” said Honey, “you’d think he would have learned to talk like a normal human being.”

Nova cut a glare toward her, relatively certain that they could still be heard through the bone curtain.

“He spends his days reading ancient philosophy,” said Leroy, gesturing at an extensive collection of leather-bound tomes stacked against one of the marble sarcophagi. “What do you expect?”

Honey made an unimpressed face, then turned her attention to Nova. “So, what is it you expect us to do while you’re off gallivanting with the artiste?”

“Leroy’s already done his job,” said Nova, forcefully ignoring the suggestive look Honey was giving her.

“Made easier by those devices you found.” Leroy gestured at the cardboard box that held six pomegranate-like spheres.

Fatalia’s mist-missiles had provided a perfect framework for Nova’s newest invention—a dispersal device intended to release Agent N in a gaseous cloud upon detonation. Nova had managed to sneak out a handful of additional vials of the substance during the most recent training session, and with a few alterations based on Leroy’s experiments, she was confident the devices were ready to go.

“I’ll need a getaway driver,” said Nova. “Someone to take me to and from headquarters.”

“Naturally,” said Leroy.

“And someone will have to take my wristband back to the house after I leave the gala, so if they track it later I’ll have an alibi.”

Honey sneered with disinterest, but then rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

“Thanks,” Nova deadpanned. “Couldn’t do it without you. Phobia, at first I was thinking you could act as emergency backup for me, in case something goes wrong, but now…” She considered the wall of skulls dividing them from Ace. “Maybe it’s best if someone stays here?”

“I could be your emergency backup,” said Honey.

Nova cringed. “Well … thanks, but … I’m sort of going for stealth and subtlety?”

Honey stared at her, and for a moment Nova expected her to be insulted, but then she said, “You’re right, that won’t work for me.”

“But,” said Nova, swallowing, “there is one other thing I could use your help with. I … I’m going to need a dress.”

Finally, Honey brightened.

“Something practical,” Nova added quickly.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m a supervillain. I am nothing if not practical.” She winked.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that,” Nova muttered.

“We’ll pick out something when we get back to the house,” said Honey, bobbing her toes. “I have a sexy little sequined number that might work—”

“Not sexy,” said Nova.

Honey scoffed. “Not sexy is not an option.”

Her nose curled. “Well … not … not too sexy, then.”

“We’ll see,” said Honey, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug. “You know, I used to be invited to galas and parties every week. Oh, the cocktails, and the dancing…” She sighed longingly. “The Harbingers, you know. They always threw the best parties. Anyone who was anyone would be there.”

Nova peered at Phobia, who was as still as one of the creepy saint statues in the corner. “Let me guess—Honey has an acute fear of missing out?”

Leroy chuckled and even Phobia made a hissing sound that might have been a laugh.

“Among other devastating insecurities,” Phobia said.

“What?” Honey barked. “I am not insecure!” She grabbed a stray skull and threw it at Phobia, who blocked it with a swipe of his scythe. The skull clunked against the floor and Nova flinched, unable to ignore that it had once belonged to a real person.

Phobia upturned his scythe and stuck the tip of the blade through one of the skull’s eye sockets, lifting it from the floor. He took hold of the cranium with his own bony fingers and set it neatly, almost tenderly, back on one of the stone shelves that lined the catacombs.

“You just wait,” said Honey, drawing Nova’s attention back to her. “You’re going to enjoy yourself tonight. Undermining those arrogant tyrants. Risking everything to achieve your goals. Taking back what’s rightfully ours. Trust me, darling. It will be fun.” She nudged Leroy with the toe of her pointed shoe. “Don’t you agree?”