Hello again, reader(s)! A message to VeronicaChase: Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story and past story! I was so excited to see your comment, considering how old the books are and how incredibly new this story is. I hope to see your name again in the reviews!

I'm bringing chapter two at 1:16 in the morning. I have a long drive back to South Carolina tomorrow, accompanied by my grandfather. I've stayed in Kentucky for Christmas, but school starts back up Tuesday. I'm almost done. I've just got one more semester of high school left and I'm off free to a new chapter of my life. It's honestly incredible. I first wrote this story when I was finishing middle school, and now I'm bring it back four years later.

In this chapter you will experience the past, the present, and recent past. So, without further ado, enjoy!


He pressed his shirt into her middle, pressing hard as he could. Stay alive Max! Stay with me! Fang's thoughts wandered to the possible outcomes this day could end on, and the fear that not only would he lose his flock, but he'd lose the girl he cared for too. He slapped her cheek lightly.

"Wake up Max. Come on. It's not bed time." He had to get her awake. He had to keep her conscious. "Max stay awake."

"Fang." She was mumbling. Her eyes rolled heavily, and her skin quickly paled. "Let me go."

Fang hissed, ripping the fabric of her jeans and carefully working the fabric around torn flesh of her abdomen. "If you honestly think that I am letting your ass die, then you've done lost your damn mind." His chest seized as Max's blood continued to spread around them.

A mile away, dogs barked. The soldiers were searching for them. If Fang's hearing hadn't failed them, they'd be here in five minutes. The Erasers would he be here in three.

"You have to get up Max. Let's go, come on." He reached an arm under her knees, and another under her shoulders.

"Fang no." Max rasped. He shook his head, picking her up with ease. "Fang."

"I'll get you somewhere safe, I promise."

Max slammed her fist in his chest, tears springing in her eyes. "Fang please." She cried. Her head hung. "I can't. Let me go."

"Max-"

She pulled his forehead to hers, their noses brushing. "Let me go, and run. You can get away. She was letting you go." Max's breathing was labored. "I don't have anymore time. You can get away, and save the flock. Go. Take care of my flock."

"No. I'm not going without you." Fang shook his wings, pushing off with all his strength. "I'll get us to safety. We can't go to a hospital. They'll call authorities. We're somewhere in Texas. I think we can stay at an empty vacation home."

Fang stayed low in the air. He shouldn't be flying. He could be easier spotted in the air than on ground, but both soldier and eraser bodies were gaining on. Flying was faster.

"Fang." Max's voice was weak.

"I said no!" He snapped. "I'm not leaving you!"

The air whistled past them, engulfing them in warm currents. Fang breathed in, his lungs burning for fresh air. The stench of Max's blood clung to the walls of his nose. He kissed her head.

"We'll get them back." He assured her, looking down. "Max?"

Her arm fell, hanging limp. Fang shuddered, and his weak wing flapped wrongly against a gust of air. His temporary glide stalled, and suddenly he was weightless.

10 Years Later

Fang's POV

I bolted, the feeling of free falling sending me in a flailing fit of limbs and sheets. In the process of trying to save myself from falling out of bed, I crushed my knuckles into the headboard.

A knock sounded, and JoJo peaked from behind the bedroom door. She smiled sheepishly, waving awkwardly. "Wakey-wakey birthday boy." She greeted. Apart from the feminine curves of both her face and body, she was a mirror copy of me. For good reason.

"Morning." I slid out of bed, shaking out my hand. I hadn't gotten many bruises since I found JoJo. It was almost calming to sport bruises now. Reminded me the familiar life of before.

"So, we need to go to the store. I was able to make breakfast, and we still have some food, but it'll go quickly." JoJo stretched a wing out and scratched under her primaries. When her hair fell over her shoulders, I noticed her arms.

"You're weakening."

"Excuse me?" There was defense in her voice, and her feet were already in a prepared position to throw a fist. I almost wanted to laugh. My poor sister; so defensive over looks and skill. She and Nudge would have gotten along.

"Your biceps have shrunk. It's been a month since we've last sparred." Painful knuckles forgotten, I reached for her arm. "I apologize. I'm getting lazy."

JoJo huffed, rolling her eyes in a very Max way. My chest hurt. "Shut up. You can't just tell me I look weak as a kitten and then blame it on yourself. That's guilt tripping." She shoved me lightly, turning and walking out. I followed.

"For the record, I never said anything like that. And I'm not guilt tripping. Simply noting the truth." I offered her smile. She stuck her tongue out.

The kitchen smelled of burnt pancakes and undercooked bacon. She slid my plate across the island and my stomach growled on cue. "Alright. I'll take a shower, head out to the BI-Low in an hour. You have a shopping list I can take with me?"

JoJo cleared her throat. "Actually, I wanted to go out. I wanted to get you a cake, and a birthday present."

"We're not celebrating my birthday."

"Why?" She asked. The moment she gave me her signature "bullshit" face, I had already gathered a million answers to her question, but none that I could or wanted to give her.

"Reasons." I told her.

"Well, you have work later. You can't stop me from going out after you leave." Damn it. "Not unless you cuff me, and even then, you better hope they're cuffs I can't get out." Her mouth popped dramatically, a habit I was quickly getting annoyed by. "Let me at least come with you."

"Fine, but we're sparing when we get back." I bit into my bacon, as she began grumbling.

Despite the loss of my family, I'd be lost if I never found JoJo. After Max's death, I was torn. A part of me died with her, and with everyone missing, I was unable to breathe right.

My attempts to find the siblings, the fashion diva, and my blind brother were fruitless. I tried to find Ari, Jeb, anyone who would listen. I regret to admit, but I made scenes. I made myself public. I went from an unknown bird kid in a hoody, to a crazy, very known, shirtless bird kid in the public eye. I was on the news, in tabloids, in newspapers. After snatching a phone, I discovered I was on social media apps. The number of people that followed my blog, suddenly went into an uproar.

After some time, the shock of Max's death began settling. I disappeared, trying to get my bearings. And then, when I was in the middle of eating a rat, I remembered Doctor and Ella Martinez, the only blood relatives that Max had who hadn't gone evil. I also remembered the Dr. Martinez had connections with the school. She could've had information. It was only appropriate that I went to her.

After flying for thirteen hours with a couple of breaks in between, I was ready to drop. Ella gasped when she saw me, and threw open the door. She hugged me, her eyes leaving spots on my dirty shirt. I probably should have stolen some cleaner clothes, except I wanted answers.

Ella's crying made me know that they already heard the news. Max was dead. "Is it true?" Ella cried, her cheeks an angry red. Her crying set a wreck of pain in my chest and lungs. I could only nod.

"Where's your mom?" I asked, easing myself from her iron grasp. Ella held herself tightly.

"At work. Why?"

"I have questions. I'm hoping she can answer them." I dragged my sweat stained, black and grey plaid shirt off. Ella ripped it from my hands and turned toward in the direction of what I guessed was a laundry room. When she came back, she gave me a white shirt.

"Mom doesn't know anything. She's a veterinarian."

"You don't know much about your mom, do you?" I asked her. Walls began building in her eyes, a defense against personal questions.

"I just told you."

"If you believe that, then there's a lot she hasn't told you."

After my short-lived conversation with Ella, I stayed on the Martinez's porch and waited. I didn't being in the house. I shook my wings out, stretching the kinks in them, relaxing them on the ground, and got comfortable

I waited quietly, until a white Sudan pulled into the drive way and the doctor stepped out of her vehicle. She was cautious, shaking her keys nervously. She should have been nervous. I was angry, pissed off, and she was the only one with answers.

"Nice to see you again, Dr. Martinez." I offered my hand for her shake, but she made no moves. Instead, her face locked in a familiar frown. It was one I saw many times on Max. Between the frown, the matching chocolate eyes, and Ella's crying, I'd had enough grief for today. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

"I know why you're here, Fang." She said.

"I'm just trying to make small talk."

"Don't. I can't tell you anything." She pushed past me to unlock the door. I simply reached and opened it for her. Dr. Martinez held her breath. She leaned on the doorframe and pinched her nose.

"The fact that you know about her in the first place means you were notified by Jeb, or by someone else." I stepped in after her, preparing for an argument. If I knew Max, her mother was probably prepared for one too.

"Max was Jeb and I's daughter. I had the right to know. He knew that." She threw her purse onto the sofa and began pacing about. "That doesn't mean I know what they did to the rest of them."

"My family you mean." My temper rose. You can't expect me to be happy with the way she said them. "Dr. Martinez, my family were sold as child soldiers. I don't trust you. I wouldn't be here, if I didn't believe you had even the littlest bit of information."

"And you're wrong!" She snapped, her hair flipping in the same way Max's did. "You want information. Fine. I was told, that if you hadn't done anything, she'd be alive. They were letting you go. They were letting you walk. And then you got smart, devised a plan, and you and Max were gone. She got shot in her thigh, and a fatal fight with those animals finally did her in." Martinez laughed, red in the face. "You not trusting me is a joke, when it was you who got my daughter killed."

"Damn it, just help me find the flock!" I pleaded. "Give me something! If not for me than for Max. She wasn't a mother, but she was a mother to them. Those are her kids out there. Just help me find them. I just need information to go on."

Martinez shook her head, her fists curling and uncurling. She wanted to throw a punch, even though she knew she'd probably lose in a fist fight. After a minute of angry silence, she huffed and ordered me to follow. I did. She led me to an empty bedroom.

"I don't have information on the flock, but if I give you something, will you sleep." It was a strange request, and no matter the information Martinez gave me, I'd never trust her. I agreed none the less, with mental crossed fingers on an empty promise. I wasn't planning on staying.

"I knew your mother." She said abruptly, and my breath caught. What? I couldn't speak. "She was young, and stuck on various drugs. If it hadn't been for your metabolism, your immune system, and your fighting spirit you would have been considered a failed experiment. Some in the labs thought it better to "put you down," others wanted to see how your body would react."

"Stop talking."

"I oversaw, and was trusted, in getting her trust us in the labs. And I did. She handed you to us, and she then she was off the hook. But, about twelve or so years or go, they brought her back. Your DNA was incredible, beautiful almost. They wanted to replicate it. Your mother had been clean for a while, but she was living on the streets. She needed a new start, so the school bought her out, and your sister was born."

"Sister." The word was foreign to me. The fact that my mother actually existed was news to me, but a sister?

"Yes. She turns thirteen soon."


Thank you so much for reading! Apart from last time, I really tried to delve into how Fang discovered his sister, and I think I did that. Trying by best! But for now, constructive criticism is very much welcomed, as I am a growing writer!