There will be questions... so many questions... and none will be answered just yet. Read on if you dare!

Chapter 1: New York City – Again

The cool wind whirling past you, the sun warming your back and wings, the powerful feeling of being carried above the world... Flying was the wonder of the bird-kid world.

Unfortunately, I was as far from the air as you could get. The flock had held a vote for where to sleep for the night, and I was sadly outnumbered. Sure, everyone had wanted to sleep in a tree too, but once they found out about the honey-roasted peanut stand right outside the subway entrance, safety and survival was pushed out of their mind.

"It's not easy to fly out of subway tunnels, you know." I complained halfheartedly. I was the leader. I had the authority to kick their behinds to where I wanted to sleep. But I also wanted those honey-roasted peanuts.

Fang looked at me. "The ride's almost over," he said quietly. "They should be able to enjoy some of it." I knew what he meant, and it made my heart drop into the pit of my stomach. We had been trying to stop near-catastrophes created by companies from destroying the world recently; soon, life on Earth was bound to be ended. Our luck would run out fast, I could tell.

I surveyed my flock. Nudge and Gazzy were playing a game of cards bought by my mom, Dr. Valencia Martinez. Iggy was listening to music on an i-Pod and scowling. I knew how much he hated the Big City. Angel was sitting against the grubby subway wall, watching the other homeless people intently. I shivered at the look on her petite face. Angel, my angel, was just... different than she had been a year ago. Everything about the stoic seven-year-old now was enough to give me chills.

Fang, too, was a different bird-kid than he once was, but in a less-scary way. He still stood tall and silent, still was Fang, but I was not sure I knew him anymore. The flock had changed, and it would probably never be the same again.

With a grunt, I excused myself to buy more honey-roasted peanuts. The only reason we were in New York, anyway, was because my mom had recommended visiting beautiful places around the country. Not that I considered the city as beautiful. Unless smog, smoke, and cigarettes counted.

At the top of the long stairwell to the steel-and-concrete world above, the honey-roasted peanut vendor waited patiently while I fished through my pockets for a spare dollar. When I turned up with a five, he handed me a peanut bag and my change. I spun around and headed back down the subway.

No one was actually waiting for the subway on the platform, so I wasn't even given questioning looks when I walked down the tunnel. Hopping over the third rail, I dropped down beside my flock on the narrow ledge where the homeless people stayed. Again, their choice, not mine.

"Yo, guys, who wants a bag of the world's best honey-roasted peanuts?" I said, shaking the bag in Iggy's face. He pushed it aside.

It must have been late, because Gazzy and Angel were already asleep. They were curled up like homeless cats, and it made my heart heavy. I looked away. Nudge was drifting off as I watched. Iggy pulled out his ear-buds and stretched. "Too tired, can't eat," he mumbled.

I turned to Fang. "I go out of my way to get chow for them, and all they do is sleep instead?" Fang shrugged, which was probably the only response I was going to get from him.

Patting down the cold, hard, damp (who was here last, anyway?) wall, I popped half of the honey-roasted peanuts into my mouth in one handful and allowed my wings a little breathing room. I sometimes wished we didn't have to hide our wings from the normal world, but our windbreakers did a fine job of covering them. Beside me, Fang was blogging, made obvious by the telltale blue glow of the MacBook. I decided against reading what he was posting. It would probably just make me annoyed.

The normal homeless people were also pulling their shabby blankets over themselves and switching off their battery-powered lights. I checked my watch. Was it already that late? Sure enough, the bloodstained, electric face read 10:47. We had come to the subway tunnels to sleep about 30 minutes ago, so... dang, I wasn't good at math. Either way, it had been surprisingly late out when we had arrived.

Go to sleep, Max.

My eyes snapped open. The Voice! No, not my voice, the Voice. You know, the one inside my head. You know you're crazy when things like this become normal.

What now? I snarled in my head. The Voice didn't respond as usual.

I shifted on the stony ledge in the darkness. Just as my eyelids began to droop, it surprised me by speaking again: something is coming. Before I could utter a sound, I was plunged into a dreamless slumber.

"Excuse me, children."

I awoke immediately, springing to my feet and nearly falling off the ledge onto the third rail. The rest of the flock had similar responses.

Standing before us, looking very out of place with glittery makeup and glossy, buoyant blond hair, was a tiny girl—no, woman. She was tiny, more than a foot shorter than me (even though I was already taller than most people), and I immediately felt on edge. I wasn't quite sure what it was about the petite, big-eyed person, but I knew at once that she was trouble. Angel stiffened next to me. Her voice flashed into my mind: Horror - get away - Max! I whirled to look at her, but she wasn't paying any attention to me. The queer expression on her face made me much more than uneasy.

"Children." The little lady sighed with exaggerated patience. "There is something I must ask you to do for me." I was altogether prepared to take flight just then, but some invisible force stopped me. I found myself staring straight into her eyes. The woman looked at each of our tense, strangely frozen faces, and said in a voice that would have chilled my blood had I been feeling particularly sane at the moment, "There are other children who need to behave. Would you bring over their suitcase for me?" It was not intended as a question.

The lady pointed down the dark, grubby walkway-ledge to where four dark-haired boys were sleeping; it was still not yet midnight. A suitcase rested between them.

I realized suddenly, the first clear thought to push through my mind, that this was mind-control. This was not Angel's doing. This was not normal.