Subterfuge

Chapter 2

THIRTEEN AND A HALF YEARS LATER

The watch was elegant. And expensive. A silver band plated in pure gold, with more gold around the face, accented by diamonds. It would fetch her a hefty sum for sure.

The item's worth established, Maggie set about developing a plan for obtaining it. She had to be careful these days—as time went on, it seemed like more and more people were taking it upon themselves to "uphold justice" and "keep the city safe" and all that other garbage. Maggie had liked it better back when she was a kid, when people had counted on the Renegades to take care of everything for them. People hadn't paid much attention to their surroundings, figuring that if anything happened, a nearby Renegade would swoop in and stop it.

And, of course, Maggie herself had been a Renegade for several years, so whenever she was with them, people had assumed she was there to keep watch for lawbreakers, not break the law herself.

Society had been so gullible back then.

Not so much now, though. Now that the Renegades weren't seen as the be-all-end-all of everything, now that there was all sorts of "everyone can be a hero" propaganda, society as a whole was a lot more vigilant.

This made Maggie's job a heck of a lot more difficult.

Maggie was confident in her abilities, though, and she'd had enough practice with this kind of thing that she knew she'd be able to pull it off. She stepped up closer to the man wearing the watch. He was deep in conversation with a woman who was probably his wife, both of them poring over a flyer for some new store that was going to be opening up soon. Maggie subtly cast her eyes to the watch, careful not to shift its weight or let anything brush the man's skin as she slowly undid the clasp. The watch looked heavy. He'd notice if it just fell from his wrist, so she needed to provide a distraction.

Maggie gave the man and his wife a quick once-over. Like most people, they had no distinguishing features to indicate their powers, which meant that their powers could be anything from the ability to change the color of nearby flowers, to the capacity to turn themselves into fire-breathing dragons. Or, worse, read minds.

She would have to risk it. Maggie jumped upward, emitting a loud cry of pain. The man and woman both turned to look at her right as she crashed into the man, angling her body so that the opening of her purse would be right beneath the man's wrist as he moved his arms up to catch her. In a smooth, fluid motion, she used her powers to slide the watch into the bag.

"Are you all right?" the man asked her, not noticing.

Maggie straightened up. "Yeah. I'm fine. I think I just got stung by something, and it startled me. Sorry about that."

"You got stung?" the woman's face paled.

"Yeah, but I'm okay. I just wasn't expecting it." Maggie placed a hand over her upper thigh, pretending to nurse a wound, knowing that due to the positioning of her supposed "sting" the man and woman wouldn't ask to see it.

"But are you—do you still—it was just a normal sting, right?" the woman persisted, her face clouding with worry as her eyes darted around the sidewalk and busy street.

Maggie realized what the woman was implying, and her heart gave a lurch. She didn't want to think about that day. People still talked about it, even though it had happened over three years ago. People who hadn't even been there, hadn't even been prodigies at the time, still feared a comeback from the bees that had been loaded with Agent N, the substance that had stripped countless prodigies of their powers before the Supernova. The four members of the original Council were still working damage control over this, reminding the public that the entire supply of Agent N had been either used up or destroyed, and that what had happened that day had been reversed by the Supernova anyway.

But not everything had been reversed.

"It's just a normal sting," Maggie said brusquely. "I think I'll go home and put some ice on it." She hurried off, reminding herself not to run, not to act suspicious, to keep holding a hand over her imaginary wound.

Why'd I have to say I got stung? She thought, furious with herself. I could've said I stubbed my toe, or bumped my head, or something like that. Not something that would remind...

She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. The woman was so stupid to even think for a moment that Maggie had been stung by one of those bees. Those bees had been under the control of Queen Bee, who was now dead. The exchange with the woman just proved one more thing Maggie had known all along—having superpowers didn't prevent people from being idiots.

Maggie slowed down when she turned the corner, and strolled at a leisurely pace the rest of the way to the pawn shop, focusing only on her treasures and how much she was going to pull in for them today. Aside from the watch, she'd obtained a single sapphire earring—she'd tried to steal its partner too, but the woman wearing them had suddenly realized the one was missing, and Maggie had needed to make a quick exit—and a silver buckle off of someone's boot. The earring and the buckle would each probably only pull in a few dollars each, but the watch—August would be impressed with that.

She pulled open the heavy wooden door, still daydreaming about the money she was about to pull in. She scowled when she saw that August was in the middle of talking to someone. She knew it wasn't fair to expect special treatment just for being his most consistent customer, but she hated having to wait around in the dingy shop while August hemmed and hawed with people over the prices of whatever silly items they'd brought in. The shop, with all its mismatched merchandise and who-knew-what, reminded her way too much of the artifacts warehouse at Renegades headquarters, which in turn reminded her of—

She shook her head again. No, she wasn't going to let her mind go in that direction. Instead, she stepped into the shop, closing the door very loudly behind her, hoping August would notice her presence and speed up his transaction with the other customer.

August did indeed look up, his eyes meeting hers for just a moment before turning back to the woman he was talking to. Maggie sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, allowing her eyes to drift around the dimly-lit room while she waited.

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze fell on a head of curly blond hair poking up from one of the aisles of shelves. Was it—no, it couldn't be. What would he be doing here, of all places?

But the boy turned his head, examining something, and Maggie felt her legs grow shaky. It was him. It was him.

Right here, in August's pawn shop, was Max Everhart.