He sighed, pressing his fingers lightly against the bandage. The hardest part, as he had discovered since becoming the Sentinel, was simply hiding the fact that he was hurt. Not grimacing when someone nudged him in the side. Disguising his stiff movements when climbing out of a car or moving up a set of stairs. Smiling through the pain when all he wanted to do was take a couple of painkillers and spend the afternoon reclined on a sofa watching television.

Or kissing Nova again. That had certainly taken his mind off his injury.

He finished cleaning the tattoo and patted it dry with a paper towel from the dispenser, then fumbled with the buttons on his white shirt.

He hoped Oscar knew how to knot a bow tie so he wouldn’t have to ask one of his dads—or worse, Blacklight.

Adrian wasn’t used to feeling this anxious. Sure, he got nervous sometimes. Had, in fact, felt nervous a lot more often since the day Nova McLain had strolled into his life. But he wasn’t used to this twitchy, edgy, stomach-twistingly anxious feeling and he was ready for it to go away.

It was going to go away. Wasn’t it?

He pulled on his tuxedo jacket at the same moment the door swung open. “What’s taking so long in here?” said Oscar, his cane clicking against the floor, which was laid with so many black-and-white octagonal tiles it made Adrian dizzy to look at. “Are you drawing your tuxedo on or something?”

Adrian glanced at Oscar’s reflection and smiled. “Actually, that’s a great idea.” He dug through the pile of clothes he had been wearing before and found his marker.

“I was joking,” Oscar said hastily. “Please don’t strip down and start drawing on new clothes.”

Ignoring him, Adrian doodled onto the fabric of his shirt. When he was finished, a crisp, white bow tie rested against the base of his throat.

Oscar huffed. “Cheater.”

“We can’t all be as naturally dapper as Oscar Silva.”

Oscar did, in fact, look extra dapper in a light gray dress shirt cuffed to show off his muscled forearms and a slim red vest. Plus, he was already wearing a perfectly knotted matching red bow tie.

“Is that a clip-on?”

Oscar snorted. “Please. Only villains wear clip-ons.”

When they emerged from the bathroom, Adrian was surprised to see that the gala was already filling with guests—lots of Renegades, along with their family members and spouses. He scanned the room but didn’t see Nova in the crowd.

A new bout of nervousness struck him.

The space looked great. Massive columns held up the expansive ceiling, and the stained-glass dome at its center had miraculously survived the Age of Anarchy, though the large clock against the wall had to be reconstructed from old pictures.

There were no ticket booths, no boards updating the train schedules, no luggage carts or periodical stands. In their place now stood circular tables draped with crimson tablecloths and glittering glassware. There were lights that bobbed overhead like buoys on an invisible ocean, each cycling through a variety of rich jewel tones and splattering the room in shades of emerald and turquoise. There were levitating trays carrying champagne flutes and tiny hors d’oeuvre, and a stage where a string quartet was playing in front of an empty dance floor.

A high whistle drew his attention toward the coat check, where Ruby was handing over her jacket. “You clean up nice, Sketch,” she said, taking her claim ticket and putting it in a small jeweled bag. She was wearing an unembellished red cocktail dress, but its simplicity was offset by the gem she always wore on her wrist, and now a necklace of red rubies too. Her own creation, no doubt. Her hair, a mix of bleach white and dyed black, was pulled into a messy up-do that reminded Adrian of a white tiger. Cuddly, yet fierce.

“He drew on his bow tie,” said Oscar. “I’m not sure it counts.”

Ruby gave him a sideways look. “You clean up nice too.”

Oscar preened. “Ready to show off my moves.” He tucked one ankle behind the other and gave a quick turn. “Tell me you can dance in those.” He jutted the end of his cane at Ruby’s heeled shoes.

“Nice thought,” said Ruby, “but we all know there will be no separating you from the free food once they bring it out.” Her expression turned serious. “Have either of you talked to Danna tonight?”

Adrian and Oscar shook their heads.

Ruby frowned. “We were supposed to come together, but she messaged me earlier and said something had come up and she’d meet me here. I asked her what something was, but she never responded.”

“Strange,” said Oscar. “But I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” He started to reach for Ruby’s hand, but then froze and settled his palm on top of his cane instead. Clearing his throat, he turned to Adrian. “Nova’s coming tonight, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He glanced at the large clock and saw that the gala had officially started twelve minutes ago. She was late, but not that late. And Hugh had mentioned that he’d seen her at headquarters earlier, so she had probably worked up to the last minute. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

“Come on.” Ruby threaded her arm through Oscar’s elbow. He stood straighter in surprise, but then Ruby laced her other arm through Adrian’s and he deflated again. “My family is excited to see you.”

She dragged them into the sea of tables.

It wasn’t just Ruby’s brothers who were at the gala, but her mom, dad, and grandmother too. Adrian felt like he already knew them, from everything he’d heard from Ruby, and it wasn’t long before her brothers were begging to hear about what it was like to take down criminals, and was it true that Hawthorn had a forked tongue, and was it weird living in the same house as the Dread Warden because if they could turn invisible they would come up with the best pranks.

Adrian was as friendly as he could manage, but he was constantly scanning the entrance, watching the guests filter in. Eventually, Oscar’s mom showed up. Their group, including Adrian’s dads, who were socializing on the other side of the room, took up two full tables. Adrian saved a seat for Nova, and he noticed Ruby stashing her purse on the seat beside her, too, reserving it for Danna.

Twenty minutes passed. Oscar and Ruby went to stand by the kitchen doors, where they could be sure to accost the waiters every time they brought out a new tray of appetizers.

Thirty minutes passed. Adrian spotted his dads purveying a long table full of gift baskets and desserts—a silent auction that was part of the fundraiser intended to replace some of the stolen drugs. Simon put a bid down for a latticework pie, though Hugh was the pie lover and Simon definitely would have preferred the chocolate cake beside it.

Forty minutes passed.

Adrian’s heart sank, ever so slowly. His smile became more forced. He caught Oscar giving him a sympathetic look, which only irritated him.

One hour into the gala, the guests were encouraged to take their seats and the salad course was served. Adrian stared down at the delicate stems of some unfamiliar lettuce, candied nuts, and glistening purple beets. His fathers joined their table and Oscar’s mom looked like she was about to faint from their mere presence. Adrian pushed his salad around with his fork, grateful that between Hugh Everhart and Oscar Silva, no one would notice that he wasn’t saying much.

She wasn’t coming.

He’d blown it.

It was for the best, he tried to tell himself. There was no way he and Nova could be anything more than friends and teammates. Not if he was going to keep his secret. Already he’d started planning different ways that he could tell her the truth.

But Nova hated the Sentinel. If he thought she would be thrilled to learn his identity, that she would somehow be impressed by him, then he was in more denial than he realized. No. A real relationship would never work, not while he was trying to be the Sentinel too. Not while his loyalties were so divided. Not while—

“Holy smokes,” Oscar whispered. “Adrian.” He smacked Adrian’s shoulder with the back of his hand, dislodging his thoughts. Ruby noticed, too, and they both turned at the same time.

The air left him. Every doubt evaporated at once.

He was just kidding. A real relationship could totally work. He would make it work.

Jumping up from his seat, Adrian made his way through the tables, unable to take his gaze from Nova. She was standing by the doors, searching the crowd, and when they landed on him she started in surprise. He beamed. She smiled back, but warily. Maybe she was nervous too.

Somehow, the idea made him borderline giddy.

“Wow,” he said when he reached her. “You look—”

“Don’t get used to it,” she interrupted. “I’m never wearing a dress again. I don’t know why anyone would willingly subject themselves to this torture.” She tugged at the hem of the black lining beneath a lacy overdress.

Adrian chuckled. “I’ll admire it while I can, then.”

Nova blushed and her gaze swept down his tuxedo. She gulped, and didn’t make eye contact as she said, “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay. You haven’t missed much. I’ll show you where we’re sitting.”

Nova peered into the crowd. Her expression seemed troubled. She didn’t follow him.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m not really that hungry. Do you think maybe we can just walk around a bit instead?”

“Sure,” said Adrian. “They actually have a gift shop here, if you want to check it out.”

“A gift shop?”

“Yeah. This started to become a popular tourist destination a few years ago, and Blacklight thought a gift shop would drum up extra revenue. It’s pretty cheesy stuff, but still fun. Especially if you’re in the market for a snow globe, or a new key chain. Or a magnet of the Gatlon skyline with your name printed down the side of the Merchant Tower.”

Nova’s smile became a little less strained. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been searching for exactly that.”