Chapter One

"Angel! Get a move on!" I shouted, pacing up and down in the hallway. For once, I had planned out a schedule (maybe) and I needed everything to be on time for it to work. And Angel was making us late; something I did not like.

A minute later, my baby came flying down the hall. Well, she's technically not my baby baby, but close enough. She's the youngest of the Flock and I had taken care of her since she was just three years old and after Jeb had rescued us but then later "disappeared".

Angel had, in her hurry, forgotten to dress in her favorite fluffy pink sweater and was instead in a plain purple one. Her face was round with red cheeks. Her curly blonde hair was bouncing off her shoulders as she sprinted down the hall.

"Slow down," I scolded. "We're in a hotel, you know. People are still sleeping."

"Sorry," Angel mumbled, sliding into our small, tight group.

"Everyone here?" I glanced around to do a quick survey. Nudge, who had wild brown hair and mocha-colored skin, was standing right behind me. After she had turned thirteen two months ago, she had started to act more and more like a regular teenager; which is good…if you don't count all the extra money I have to spend on makeup and "fashion clothes". Take now for instance: She was dressed in tight black skinny jeans and an equally tight and showy shirt.

"You know," I said, "you're going to have to cover up your wings. Actually, you need to cover them up now. We're in a hotel. Where there are normal people."

Nudge rolled her eyes. "I know that, Max. That's why I have this." She holds up a long, flowing jacket that was thin but would definitely do the duty Nudge – aka I – bought it for: to cover up her twelve-foot tawny wings.

I sighed and moved on. Next was Gazzy; also known as the Gasman. I won't go into any further details. Gazzy has short blond hair and light blue eyes, just like his sister; Angel. Both the eight-year-old and ten-year-old are amazingly sweet and cute, but I prefer not to think what'll happen once they reach their teens. They're the only blood siblings among us, but everyone thinks we're one big family. That's usually happy. Speaking of which…..

"You can't bring Total," Iggy was saying. Iggy's sixteen, just like Fang and I, but, although he's six months younger than me and two of Fang, he's 6'4" and has the longest wingspan of us all; a good ol' fourteen feet. And even the whitecoats who "created" us and experimented with us like we were nothing but things, had to admit that he was a genius.

"But we always do," Angel whined. She was hugging the black Scottie-like dog like it was her life line. "And Total wants to go."

"Yeah," Total added. Yeah yeah. A talking dog. So what?

"You always make Max carry him after, like, five minutes," Iggy pointed out. He had his arms crossed over my chest

"You're talking about me like I'm not even here!" Total complained. Did I mention that this dog has attention issues? "Besides, my wings aren't fully grown. I can't fly on my own yet." Total started to raise his half-grown black wings but I sent him a look that said You're a talking dog so you probably don't need any more attention.

"I promise I won't this time," Angel begged. "Just let me bring him. He'll be so lonely here. Please, Iggy?" She looked up at him with big, round saucer-like eyes. Pleading eyes. Bambi eyes; her and Nudge's trademark you'll-have-to-give-me-anything-I-want-now eyes.

"Yeah. What am I supposed to do? I can't even roam the hotel."

Iggy just smiled. "Your eyes don't work on me, Angel." See what I mean? Iggy can't see, but if you don't know he's blind, he'll have you almost convinced that he can.

But Angel kept on looking up in those blind eyes. She had on that weird look of concentration about her when she…Oh no, I thought.

And then Iggy was pressing his fingers against his temples – with his eyes closed – which I thought was pointless, him being blind and all that, but I guess would've done the same thing if I was in his position and Angel was influencing me in letting her bring Total with her mind.

Angel refused to listen and continued with her mind-power thing. I could tell that Iggy was weakening just by the way his brows were furrowed and how he bit his lip in concentration. He was doing his best, but he was losing.

I sighed. "Angel."

That's all I had to do. Saying the kid's name like that made her stop just like that. I think she thinks I'm supposed to be queen of everything or something like that. I wouldn't want to disappoint her, so I go along with her fantasies.

But the only problem is is that I'm supposed to save the world. Or so the Voice tells me.

She turned her head up at me. "Max?'

I shook my head ever so slightly, but Angel caught it. Her head dropped, but she let go of Total. "You be good, okay, Total? And don't rip Celeste up, either." Cleste's the angel bear Angel got at a toy store in New York. That was only a month ago, but she's already so worn down like she had been with Angel for years instead of a month.

Total grumbled something unintelligible about being treated like "all the other regular dogs around here". But, as soon as he was free of his Angel, he rushed down the same hallway he had come from and into the doggy door of our hotel room. (I know. A doggy door in a hotel isn't always as...common.)

"Angel; one…Nudge; two…Gazzy; three…Iggy; four…" My eyes snapped open. (They were open before, but I hadn't realized that they were dropping because of lack of sleep until then.) "Fang!" I glanced around frantically for my right wingman until I realized that he wasn't with us anymore.

Not a week after we had reached Washington D.C, Fang had found his parents. We were looking for them, after all, but it was still kind of a shocker for him to actually find them. It wasn't hard, either. All he did was find the correct address and ring the doorbell. His parents are actually quite nice and not at all the drug addicts he thought they were. They also didn't seem to have a single problem with his wings, saying that they would "buy him wind-breakers" and all that other parent-ly crap. So, of course, he stayed with them and his eleven-year-old sister Fiona.

It broke my heart that he was actually leaving the Flock. We were such close friends and I had started to develop...stronger feelings, shall we say, of him. I cried a full day and night after he left. And not just because he left, too.

But because he didn't say goodbye.

I mean, we all knew he was going to leave once he found his real parents. Even I knew it was pointless throwing myself at his feet and begging him to stay; something that had, I have to admit, crossed my mind several times. But I at least thought he would give us a proper goodbye; not with a long speech or anything – he barely talks at all – but with a hug or something along that line.

But one morning he was there, and the next he wasn't.

All I found was a black feather on my dresser when I woke up one day.

Black was the color of Fang's wings. Raven black and dark as the night. I can remember them clear as day.

I turned my face from everyone else as I tried to blink back the tears gathering around my eyes and gulp down some fresh air. I wasn't going to let them down again. I had promised myself – and everyone else in the Flock, besides – that they could depend on me. That I would keep them safe.

"Max?" It was Angel's voice; soft and curious.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"Of course," I replied, turning around and putting on the most dazzling smile that I could manage. "Why would you even ask me such a thing?"

"It's just that…"Angel's voice trailed off, but I knew what she was going to say: That I was having trouble keeping myself together – not to mention the Flock – after Fang left us.

Nudge nudged her and Angel quickly added a, "I'm hungry."

I smiled. This was something I could deal with. "What do you want? Actual breakfast food? Snacks? Junk food? Desserts? Candy?"

"Candy!" Angel cried, jumping up and down. "Candy! Can we have candy, Max? Please?"

"Well…" I looked around for help, but then felt a pang in my chest. It was always Fang I gave the look to, and now that he was gone, Iggy wasn't much help with that and Nudge was always looking around for something to blab about. "Oh, all right," I gave in. "But you have to have some actual breakfast first."

At this, Angel's spirits fell.

"But we can go to a fast food place like McDonald's if you want," I added.

Oh, why not? I thought. It isn't like they're going to get too fat to fly just from one meal. Besides, we used to Dumpster-dive all the time. They'll be fine.

Very good, Max. You should let them have a little fun at times. Loosen up. They're just kids, like you. You should try it sometime, too.

I groaned. It was my amazing Voice. Of course. Thanks, Voice, but someone needs to stay tense in case an Eraser pops up...

"Oh, goodie!" Angel exclaimed, clapping her hands.

"So," Nudge said. "Are we taking the bus or flying?"

Actually, I had never thought of that. Usually, our method of transportation are our wings. But with as many people around in D.C…..

"I hate to say this, but: bus."

Everyone groaned. We had been living in our temporary "home" for more than two weeks already (did I mention that I have an unlimited credit card, thanks to the Voice?) and we were still not used to crowded places. We hated people and are all a bit claustrophobic (dog crates, anyone?). But Fang's the worst…

Fang. I sighed.