Maggie lay awake in her bed, blanket pulled up to her chin, trying not to relive the day's events. When she and Zoridel had arrived back at the theater, she'd immediately gone to the tiny bathroom at the end of the hall, the only bathroom in the entire place that actually had a shower, and stood under the running water for what felt like hours, trying to wash away not just the smoke and grime and glass pieces, but also the memories of the red welts on Max's arms, his agonized screams as Flamethrower tortured him, and the crushing feeling of hopelessness as she'd realized she wasn't going to be able to get him out alive.

And he wouldn't have gotten out alive—if not for Zoridel. Neither one of them would have survived if the newest member of Maggie's gang hadn't shown up at just the right time.

Why had Zoridel come to their rescue? She barely knew Maggie, and she didn't know Max at all. True, Flamethrower was already fleeing the scene by the time Zoridel had arrived, so she hadn't been in a huge amount of danger, but still… she'd said she went in because she saw smoke coming out of the window, and wanted to see if anyone was inside. What kind of person did that, went into a burning building just to make sure that people who might not even be there could get out?

A hero. That's the kind of person who did that. Zoridel wasn't a villain. She was every bit as heroic as most of the Renegades.

So why was she working with Maggie and her gang? Especially if, as she'd implied on the walk home, she knew that Maggie's ultimate goal was to become the most powerful villain in Gatlon City? Did she have ulterior motives? Was she some sort of spy?

Maggie thought back to what Cyanide had told her the night she'd attempted to burgle the watch factory: I am not sure either side could be classified as the "heroes" or the "villains." We were simply two sides with opposing convictions and values.

The first time Maggie had met her, Zoridel had expressed her concerns about Superpower Classism. Her conviction was that the mindset of "cool" versus "not cool" powers needed to stop before it gained too much momentum. That's why she'd been interested in joining the gang. Not because she was a "hero" or a "villain," but because she'd found a way to work toward what she believed in.

Maggie rolled onto her side, a new train of thought taking over. The watch factory. It already felt like ages ago that she'd committed her little burglary, even though it had only been a couple days. She remembered being so worried that Max would connect the dots and know she'd been the one to do it, but he hadn't mentioned it any of the times they'd seen each other since then. Of course, there hadn't exactly been a whole lot of time to mention it, what with the hunt for Yasmin, and then their subsequent discussion about Yasmin, reading Maggie's entry and exit slips from the children's home, and the whole trying-not-to-die thing.

And… that moment right before Flamethrower's attack. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about it. It didn't mean anything. And even if it did, even if Max Everhart somehow… maybe… liked her, nothing could ever come of it. She was a selfish, thieving, no-good villain. He was the world's biggest hero. End of story.

She woke up the next morning to a ding from her cell phone. Her heart leapt irrationally for a fraction of a second, with the thought Maybe it's Max. She quickly tempered her enthusiasm. Max didn't even have her cell phone number, and even if he did, there would be no reason to get excited at the idea of getting a text from him.

The message was from Frostbite: I have news. Come over.

Maggie scowled at the phone. She was pretty sure she already knew what the news was, and it involved something she'd already lived through once and had no interest in discussing. I already know about the Flamethrower attack, she typed back.

It's not that. It's good news. But I need to tell you in person.

She made another face at the phone, then shoved it in her pocket. "This better be some really good news," she muttered as she exited her room.

She pulled up short when she saw Chester and Yasmin standing there, on the stage, facing her. For once, they weren't arguing or causing any kind of problems with each other. They were just standing there expectantly.

"What?" she growled.

Yasmin shifted uncomfortably, her hands in her pockets, several blades sticking out the sides of her pants. "Zoridel said you were in the fire yesterday. The one that's been all over the news."

"Zoridel should mind her own business," Maggie snapped, although she didn't really mean it. After taking her shower the night before, Maggie had gone straight to her room, shut the lights off, and laid on her bed, not in the mood to talk to anyone. Zoridel had every right to explain to the rest of the gang at least a little bit of what had happened.

"We just wanted to say… we're glad you're okay," said Chester. "And that your friend is too. The Renegade. Zoridel said you saved his life."

"I didn't; she did," Maggie corrected, annoyed that Zoridel kept giving her the credit for something she'd failed to do.

"She said it was a team effort," said Yasmin. "Anyway, do you… need anything? We can… I don't know, get you food or whatever."

Maggie squinted suspiciously at the two kids before her, wondering why they were being so nice. "Did you do something? Did you screw something up big-time, and now you're trying to get in my good graces before I notice so I won't be so mad at you?"

Yasmin looked affronted at the suggestion. "No. Great powers, we just thought you might be tired or stressed out or something because of yesterday, and we wanted to ask if you needed anything."

Maggie stared at her for a moment, not sure how to respond to that. Not used to her gang members doing nice things for her just… just to be nice. That wasn't how the gang operated. Usually it was everyone for him- or herself.

"I have to go," she said abruptly. "Frostbite apparently has news for me." She stalked past them, not looking back to see their expressions.

Frostbite had evidently been waiting for her; when Maggie arrived at the apartment door she didn't even have to knock before it was jerked open. A hand reached out and grabbed her arm, and Maggie immediately started twisting to get out of the grip. "Let go of me!" she snarled.

Frostbite finished pulling her into the apartment and closed the door, then finally let go.

"You know, I could have walked into your apartment by myself," Maggie said haughtily.

"Not quickly enough. We need—" Frostbite broke off, staring at something down by Maggie's side. With a sinking heart, Maggie realized that her sleeve had been pulled up in the tussle, and that her ruby bracelet was now showing. "What is that?" Frostbite asked.

Maggie yanked her sleeve down. "Nothing."

"I swear I've seen that before. Very recently."

Probably on the news, on Max, thought Maggie. She hadn't seen any of the news coverage herself, but she was sure some of it would have shown Max, sooty and shaken as he'd been when she left him, his burned arms exposed, the bracelet miraculously still clinging on.

"How do you think I make my living, Genissa?" Maggie asked smoothly, hoping to pass the bracelet off as a stolen item.

Frostbite's eyes narrowed at the use of her given name, but she didn't say anything else about the bracelet. "So," she said instead. "I told you I had good news, and by good I meant great. And by great, I mean that I've successfully established a connection with Flamethrower."

Maggie blinked. Of all the things she might've expected Frostbite to say, that hadn't made the list.

"I'm sure you heard about his latest attack?" Frostbite asked. "On that little Everhart freak? I was a little bummed he didn't succeed, to be honest. It would've been great payback for him stealing my powers and getting me kicked out of the Renegades."

Maggie's fists clenched, but she fought hard to keep her expression blasé. "You lost your powers because you were stupid enough to carry Agent N with you all the time," she couldn't resist saying. "And you got kicked out of the Renegades because they didn't like your methods of dealing with criminals."

"Not the first time around. The first time I got kicked out because I'd lost my powers. All thanks to that freaky Everhart Bandit and that two-faced Nightmare."

Maggie tried not to show too much interest, but she was curious. She vividly remembered the day Frostbite had stormed into Headquarters ranting about having lost her powers, but she'd thought the loss of Frostbite's powers had been as a result of Agent N. It had actually been Max?

She could tell Frostbite was waiting for her to ask about how the event had transpired, but she didn't want to give her the satisfaction. She'd ask Max later.

Her heart lurched. There was no guarantee that she'd ever see Max again. He was bound to be under tight security now that it was known that Flamethrower was specifically targeting him. Besides that, she shouldn't see him again. She was a danger to him.

"How'd you establish a connection with Flamethrower?" she asked, steering the conversation back on track.

If Frostbite was disappointed by Maggie's change of topic, she didn't show it. Her expression contorted into a self-satisfied smirk. "I started by making some logical deductions. Who would want to target Max Everhart specifically? Most likely, someone like those losers in your crew who hate the superpowers they ended up with after the Supernova."

Maggie opened her mouth to defend Duncan and Kevin, but then closed it. What, was she actually going to argue that they weren't losers? She called them losers all the time. Why was it any different when Frostbite said it?

"But," Frostbite continued. "That theory didn't make a whole lot of sense. Flamethrower is a fire elemental. Who wouldn't be happy to become a fire elemental? That's one of the most powerful powers there is. So I started thinking, rather than being someone who didn't like what superpower he ended up with, what if he was the opposite?"

"Someone who liked what superpower he ended up with?" Maggie asked skeptically. "That makes it even less logical that he'd want to attack Max. Max is the whole reason the guy's a prodigy in the first place!"

"Aha," said Frostbite, holding up her pointer finger for emphasis. "And that's where you're both right and wrong. Yes, someone who became a fire elemental as a result of the Supernova probably wouldn't want to attack Max. But how about someone who had already been a fire elemental before the Supernova, maybe someone who had just that year become a Renegade, and who was upset when suddenly everyone was a prodigy and he wasn't special anymore? And who maybe also was upset, rightfully so, when the Renegades started changing the way they did things and getting rid of really good teams in exchange for traitors and villains?" She raised her eyebrows dramatically. "Once I realized that could be his M.O., I did some research on the public database and found someone who fit that description. Renegade as of the last trials they ever held, quit the syndicate shortly after the Supernova. I found his name and contact information, and got in touch with him. Told him I knew who he was, told him we were on the same side, and guess what? Turns out he remembers me from when we were Renegades. He said he always admired my team's work."

That wasn't surprising, Maggie thought, considering that both Flamethrower and Frostbite had a certain disregard for people's lives.

"So, we established that connection, and voilà. He wants to meet with us this Saturday," Frostbite finished with a self-satisfied smile.

"You and your whole team?" Maggie questioned, hoping that was the right interpretation of "us," but pretty sure it wasn't.

"I'll probably bring my team along, or at least one or two of them, just in case he decides to try anything," said Frostbite. "But no, he wants to meet us as in me and you. I told him we were working in collaboration with another gang, and he was interested in meeting that other gang's leader."

Maggie's throat was suddenly dry. Flamethrower had already met her. And if she showed up at this meeting on Saturday, he would surely recognize her.

"I don't know," she told Frostbite. "It sounds like a trap to me. He probably wants to fry us both to a crisp and then take over our gangs."

"No," said Frostbite. "I don't think so. As I said, he admires me. We have a lot in common. Both very driven, very motivated, very willing to do whatever needs to be done to accomplish our goals." She eyed Maggie shrewdly. "You're a lot like us too, you know. I think the three of us will get along just fine."

It was supposed to be a compliment, Maggie was pretty sure. Or maybe a warning. Maybe a warning to stay that way, and to not get sidetracked by other, less important things.

And she knew it was true. She was like Frostbite and Flamethrower. A villain. Focused on herself and her own agenda, unconcerned with how her actions would affect other people. Of course that's who she was. Of course that's how she wanted to be, how she'd always been, how she always would be.

But then why did the words feel so much like a punch in the gut?