Page 89 of Archenemies

He couldn’t stand for it.

Adrian thrust his arm forward. The laser diode rose from his forearm plate and began to glow.

Gargoyle raised his fist.

Adrian fired. The bolt of light struck Gargoyle in his chest, blowing him back against the nearest crate. He hit the ground with a thud that shook the entire stack and left a sizable dent in the metal side.

Adrian leaped to the ground, centering himself between Hawthorn and Frostbite. “That’s enough. She’s captured. You’ve done your job. Now take this criminal back to headquarters and let the Council deal with her.”

Frostbite’s expression quickly turned from surprise to loathing. “Well, well. I had a feeling your death was too good to be true.”Long icicles began to form in her left hand. Her right still held the gun. “Are you going to try to tell me that the Council sent you? That your orders are to bring Hawthorn back too?” She spat into the dirt. “Sorry, but that lie’s not going to work a second time.”

“I don’t have to lie about anything. You’re acting outside of the code, and the Council is going to know about it. Now, are you going to arrest this criminal and confess your own crimes, or do I have to do it for you?”

“Better idea,” said Frostbite, one side of her mouth lifting. “I think we’re about to bring in two wanted criminals—already neutralized. Oh, won’t the Council be pleased.”

Something struck Adrian’s shoulder. He felt a tug on his armor. The barb of Stingray’s tail was latched beneath the shoulder plate, trying to rip it off him. Growling, Adrian grabbed the tail and yanked, pulling Stingray off his feet.

Frostbite yelled and hurled the icicle. Adrian blocked it with his forearm and the ice shattered, its shards skittering through the dust. He lifted his left palm toward Frostbite and a ball of fire began to curl around his hand, crackling orange and white.

Frostbite took a step back.

“No,” said Adrian. “I’m taking Hawthorn into my custody. I’ll deliver her to headquarters myself.”

He said it without really thinking about what a terrible idea it would be for him to stroll into headquarters in full Sentinel armor, with Hawthorn draped across his shoulders—but he would figure out the details later.

Turning, he aimed the fire at the mounds of ice that had cemented Hawthorn’s limbs to the ground. She was watching him, wary and bleary-eyed, her cheeks wet with tears and her shattered limbs coated with yellow blood.

“Cute,” said Frostbite, “but that’s really not how this is going to play out. Aftershock!”

Adrian looked up in time to see Aftershock stomp one foot into the ground. A crack splintered the compact dirt, shooting straight between Adrian’s legs. He yelped in surprise and was thrown off balance, landing on his side. In the same moment, Stingray’s tail wrapped around Adrian’s neck, pinning him to the ground. Adrian tried to dig his fingers in between the tail and his armor but he couldn’t gain purchase.

“That was a nice try, with your gallant speech and everything,” said Frostbite. She stood over Adrian, one hand on her hip while the other tapped the gun against her thigh.

He glanced over at Hawthorn, who was still on her knees, her head hanging low. He had only managed to free one of her limbs from the ice and it was one of the broken ones.

“You know, I’m glad we had this meeting,” Frostbite continued. “You are a perfect reminder of everything it is we Renegades are fighting against.”

He glared up at her, though he knew his hatred couldn’t be seen through the visor. “I think you’re confused.”

“No,you’reconfused,” she spat. “With your vigilante act, your claim tofight for justice.But there’s a reason you’re not a Renegade, and everyone knows it. If you really cared about the people of this world, if you really wanted to help the weak and the innocent, then you would have joined us a long time ago. But no—you think you can go it on your own. There’s a lot more glory that way, isn’t there? The fame, the publicity… You talk a good game, but we both know you’re in it for your own agenda. And here’s the problem with prodigies who go around flaunting their own agendas.” She crouched in front of Adrian, her gaze piercing the shield of hishelmet. “It starts to give other prodigies all sorts of ideas. They start to think—who needs to become a Renegade? I can be more without them. Pretty soon, they’re more concerned with their own reputation than helping people. They don’t care about protecting the innocent. They don’t care about stopping crime. They’re above all that. And before you know it… there’s another villain in the world thatwehave to deal with.” She stood up again and aimed the barrel of the gun at Adrian’s face. He narrowed his eyes, though he knew an Agent N dart wouldn’t make it through his helmet. “Either you’re a Renegade, or you’re a villain. And yeah, we might bend the rules from time to time. We might even ignore the code completely when we can see a better way of doing things—a way that reallywillmake this world a better place. But to go around pretending that you can be against us, and still be a hero?” She shook her head. “That just can’t be tolerated.”

A shadow fell over Adrian. Gargoyle reached down and grasped the sides of his helmet, preparing to pull it off.

With a roar, Adrian bent his arm and fired a beam into Stingray’s tail. He gasped and jerked back, releasing his hold around Adrian’s throat enough that Adrian could slam his helmet back into Gargoyle’s stomach. Gargoyle grunted from the impact, his grip loosening. Adrian jumped to his feet and spun around, aiming a punch at the side of Gargoyle’s head. His cheek morphed moments before impact, and the clang of metal on stone reverberated through Adrian’s bones. He drew back and lifted his leg, instead, planting the bottom of his foot flat against Gargoyle’s chest and shoving him to the ground.

Adrian barely kept from falling again as Aftershock rumbled toward him. All around, the towers of shipping containers trembled and swayed, threatening to collapse on top of their entire group.

Adrian sprinted away from Aftershock. He was preparing to vault up to the top of one of the container stacks when a wall of icy spears shot upward from the ground, angled toward him. Adrian yelped. He couldn’t stop in time. He tripped and fell, smashing three of the spears beneath his weight.

A fourth pinioned up between the armored plates that protected his side and abdomen. The sharp point punctured him just beneath the ribs, and Adrian cried out, as much from surprise as the pain. Grunting, he wrapped both hands around the ice and levered himself off it.

He stumbled, panting. He was sweating and bleeding inside the suit, drops of it tracing the length of his spine, soaking through his shirt.

“So the suit isn’t invincible,” said Aftershock, lumbering closer to him. “That’s good to know.” He lifted his knee, prepared to send another earthquake ricocheting toward Adrian.

Bracing himself, Adrian gathered up his energy and launched upward. He landed on a stack of containers, four crates high. Clenching his fist, he started to prepare another concussive beam.

“Let Mack deal with him,” Frostbite yelled. “Gargoyle, we have a job to finish.”

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