Page 14 of Angel


  And I’m sure you already realize what I didn’t remember till it was too late: Angel can read minds. And she isn’t too particular about who’s mind it is or when she reads it.

  She took my hand. I looked down at her and saw that she had grown three inches, like, in the past couple months. “I’m sorry this is so hard, Max,” she said. “I know it’s all confusing.

  “And I know how much you love Fang,” she said, surprising me. “But that just doesn’t seem possible anymore, you know?”

  I made some sort of strangled noise—I was getting relationship advice from a seven-year-old. Because she knew more than I did. A new low.

  “Max, we know how much you’ve done for us,” she continued, my mind reeling. “You’ve made so many sacrifices for us, risked your life so many times. In a way, letting Dylan love you is another sacrifice—one you would make not just for us but for the future of the whole world.”

  Okay, now I was seriously wigging out. Was Angel saying I should flit off to Germany and have eggs with Dylan? I mean, WTH?

  “And,” Angel said, pausing before we went into the hotel, “it’s a sacrifice that you could even be happy with, someday. Dylan is a great guy. And if he really was made for you, it’ll make everything so much easier. He truly cares about you. If you let him in just a little bit, he could easily love you.”

  I felt like I was going to faint or throw up—that’s what talking about emotions does to me—but I looked down into her big blue eyes. She gave me a little smile.

  “I wish I could help, Max. I wish I had all the answers. All I can do is tell you to trust your feelings. And don’t worry about what Fang or anyone else thinks. Whatever you do, I support you. I’m here for you, okay?”

  I so wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe she no longer wanted to take over the flock, to be the leader instead of me. “Believe me, Max,” she whispered.

  64

  MANY THINGS IN America are really big. Big Macs, for example. And stretch pants, and cars. Not so much in Europe. In general, things there seem to be scaled down, more people sized. And it’s charming. It’s approachable.

  Except when your hotel’s only elevator is maybe two feet by two feet and is apparently powered by aging chipmunks running frantically, and you’re stuck in it with someone who stomped on your heart. Because you chose not to walk up the stairs like a sensible person.

  I stood as far away from Fang as possible, which was about four inches, and looked down at my feet. I feigned huge interest in my sneakers and the fact that one of them was held on my foot with bent paper clips because the shoelace had broken.

  “So, the whole Doomsday Group thing is getting pretty creepy,” Fang said lamely above the sound of the wheezing elevator cables. I wondered when they had last been inspected. This building dated from the late 1600s, a plaque downstairs said. Had the cables been replaced since then?

  “Max?” Fang asked.

  My head snapped up. I couldn’t avoid this anymore. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You figure?” I said. “What with the whole everyone must die shtick?”

  Fang sighed, and I tried unsuccessfully to inch away from him.

  “The flock looks to be in good shape,” he said after a moment. “I know you’re worried about your mom and Ella.” Someone must have filled him in on everything that had been quietly plaguing me for days. I’d been keeping all of that to myself.

  I nodded. This superficial conversation was torture. This was the person I’d spent countless hours with, kissing, talking to about everything in our hearts, our minds. How was it that it suddenly felt like Dylan was the one whom I’d known forever and Fang was the total stranger? I knew that life as a genetic experiment sucked, but I hadn’t realized just how much worse it might suck as a teenage genetic experiment.

  “So… you’re not going to talk to me anymore?” Fang sounded angry.

  And then, something inside me snapped. “How could you stop loving me?”

  As soon as my words came out, they hung in the air between us, and I wanted to disappear. The sound of hurt in my voice, even asking him that question—it was like painting a big target on my chest. I looked away and shrugged, like, never mind, but of course it was too late. Once spoken, words can’t be unspoken.

  Fang smacked his hand against the elevator wall, no doubt startling the chipmunks.

  “Is that what you think?” he asked. “Do you think I like seeing you with that… experiment?”

  Okay, pot calling the kettle black, but—

  “Do you think I like seeing you with that… clone?”

  “But this is what you decided!” he said.

  “This is what you decided!” I said, stung. “You’re the one who left! You’re the one who immediately replaced all of us! Replaced me!”

  “She’s not a replacement for you!” His face softened for a moment. “No one could replace you. But I needed another good fighter. And… she’s really very different from you, in lots of ways.”

  “That’s special!” I snapped. “Glad to hear it!”

  “What about you and superboy?” Fang demanded. “You think I don’t know what’s going on?”

  “Yeah? Then tell me, ’cause I have no freaking idea what’s going on!”

  Our voices had gotten louder and louder in the tiny space, and the elevator had been moving so slowly that we didn’t even notice when it groaned to a halt. But suddenly the doors opened, and our voices spilled out into the elegant hallway. Then my eyes locked on Angel’s small, determined face.

  She crossed her arms and had obviously been waiting for us. “Okay, you guys,” she said briskly, “you can argue later. Right now you need to listen up. I have a plan.”

  Oh, there you go, I thought in dismay. If there were ever words guaranteed to strike fear into my heart…

  I sighed.

  “Let’s hear it,” I said.

  65

  I ALMOST DIDN’T want to let Fang join us in our hotel room. Part of me was tempted to say, “I think your gang is waiting for you on the next floor.” But if we were going to battle the Doomsday Group, we all had to work together. So I gritted my teeth while he went to get the others, and then we all crammed into the room that Nudge, Angel, and I shared.

  “But—she’s seven,” I heard Star whisper. “Why does she have a plan?”

  I didn’t bother to explain.

  “Okay, we’ve seen that the Doomsday Group is made up of young people,” Angel said, pacing back and forth. “Like, really young people. But… I’m the right age to actually join them.”

  “Join them?” Nudge asked. “How?”

  “Let myself be recruited,” Angel said, leaning against one of the beds. “They’re way less likely to suspect anything from an innocent-looking little girl. Teenagers aren’t innocent-looking, ever. And as an actual member, I could get much deeper. I could really get inside and find out much more, I bet.”

  “But…” Holden looked around. “Maybe an older kid should do it. It’s probably pretty dangerous.” I didn’t mention the fact that he looked about ten himself.

  “I can deal with pretty dangerous,” Angel said, not bragging, and Fang’s gang looked surprised.

  I sat there, straining to keep my mouth shut, which just goes to show that a person can change. I was having my typical knee-jerk reaction, which meant I wanted like crazy to keep everyone I cared about safe, nixing ideas and squashing risky plans to make that happen. Clearly, this was a risky plan. I wanted to squash it. I wanted to squash it really, really bad.

  But I wasn’t going to.

  The old me, dealing with the old Angel, definitely would have. And for good reason. But… I’d changed. And so had Angel. And the changed part of me felt that I should probably, against my better judgment, let Angel do what she wanted. And I believed that the changed part of Angel might not sell me down the river while she did it. Lately, she’d been like her old self, the trustworthy old self. The nonbackstabbing old self. And maybe she needed to
prove that to me right now. And maybe I needed her to prove that to me.

  Slowly I nodded, forcing words out of my mouth. “I think… that’s a good idea,” I said, shocking everyone. “You’re the perfect mark for their indoctrination, and an insider could get a lot of useful information. Yes, it could be a real danger fest, but, as you said, you can handle that.”

  Angel looked at me with shining eyes, and I got a nice warm feeling inside.

  “Wait a second,” Ratchet said. “She’s a pip-squeak! Those are seriously crazy people! There’s no way this should happen!”

  “I agree,” said Kate.

  “I’m pretty tough,” Angel said mildly.

  “But, still,” Kate protested.

  “I think it’s a good idea,” said Maya, though no one had asked her opinion. At all. She nodded at Angel. “You can pull it off.”

  Angel looked at Fang. She didn’t need his approval. But it would be nice to have—they both knew that.

  “Yeah,” said Fang, running a hand through his shorter-than-I’m-used-to black hair. “Good idea. Just be careful, ’kay?”

  “ ’Kay.” Angel beamed, first at him, then at me.

  “Um,” said Holden, “I just don’t think—”

  “Look, Holden,” I said. “You have special powers. So do I. So does everyone in this room. This kid”—I pointed at Angel—“flies, can breathe underwater, can read minds, can control people, and can fight like Chuck Norris. She’ll be okay.”

  Holden shut up and sat down.

  And oddly, while I was reassuring him, I’d reassured myself. I grinned at Angel, and she grinned back.

  Now, if only she wouldn’t completely betray all of us, we’d be golden.

  66

  “HOW OLD ARE you?” a teenage boy with short dark hair asked, looking her up and down, not smiling.

  “Seven,” Angel said. She shifted from foot to foot, her eyes bright and a hopeful expression on her face.

  “She was out in the park, by the fountain,” said the girl standing next to him.

  “What’s your name? Where are your parents?” The boy looked suspicious.

  “Angelika,” said Angel. “My parents are back in America. I’m here with my school.” Without changing her facial expression, Angel edged her consciousness next to theirs, sidling up to their minds, quietly listening in.

  It took all of her self-control not to jump as a barrage of static blasted her mind. Jangly, hard-edged thoughts were chopped up by pictures, like bits of a film. Fire raining from the sky. Blood pooling in the street. Terror. But mostly, she received an overpowering sense of fear, a desperate need to belong, false feelings covering up real ones. With great effort, Angel tore her mind away, trying to regulate her breathing. She felt her heart beating hard.

  They were in a poorer, much less pretty part of Paris, in an ancient, sunless alley. The kids were blocking her exit, and Angel noticed with alarm construction overhead. She was feeling a little… trapped.

  “And you want to save the world, don’t you, Angelika?” the girl asked in a soothing voice, her eyes burning into Angel’s. They were nearly colorless like Iggy’s but… hypnotic. Angel nodded and glanced away, but the girl grabbed her chin and made Angel look at her. Angel had already visited the minds of the cult members once before, at Ella’s school. She hadn’t expected to feel so weak now. The cult was getting stronger.

  “There you are!”

  Angel turned to see Gazzy walking up, enjoying an ice-cream cone. She quickly sent him two thoughts: Angelika. We’re here with our school.

  He blinked once, then licked his cone. “Hey, I was looking for you.”

  What are you doing here? Angel thought at him. This was my thing. I can take care of myself.

  Gazzy shrugged. “I was worried about you, Angelika.”

  “Who’s this?” The older boy’s voice was cold. Angel caught another glimpse of his violent, fiery thoughts.

  “My brother, Andrew,” Angel said. Don’t look into their eyes, Gazzy. Try to block what they say. She saw fear on Gazzy’s face and freaked out a little. She could do this. The flock needed her to do this.

  “Does anyone know you’re here?” the girl asked, sounding a little too casual.

  “Nope,” Gazzy said, shaking his head, eyes downcast. “They’re doing some museum today.”

  The boy nodded at the girl, then they grabbed Angel and Gazzy by the arms and hustled them deeper into the dark alley. They walked past overturned trash cans and piles of broken boxes, saw rats scurrying away from them. The girl flipped open a black pad attached to a wall and pressed her thumb on a button. Locks released, ringing out like gunshots in the quiet alley. The sound startled Angel but she tried to remain calm. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so skittish.

  “Everybody in,” said the girl, pulling open a thick door covered with rusty sheet metal. Angel felt the girl’s senses quicken, felt a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and fear.

  Angel suddenly thought that she might never make it out. It wasn’t quite a vision but… She paused, and Gazzy shot her a worried look.

  The dark-haired boy shoved Angel forward. “In you go!”

  Then they were in a narrow, dank hallway, lit by harsh overhead fluorescent lights. As soon as Angel stepped inside, several huge Dobermans lunged at her, snarling and barking. Angel quickly sent them soothing thoughts, telling them she was a friend. They quieted at once.

  She looked up to see the two teens and now a grown-up staring at her.

  “Who are your friends, Toni?” the man asked the girl. Angel felt his suspicion.

  “Angelika and her brother, Andrew,” said Toni. “They want to join us.”

  “Toni, not now,” the man said crossly. “Everything is all set. We can’t take them.”

  “Don’t make us go back,” Angel pleaded. “You have to let us stay!”

  “And why should we?” the man asked.

  “Because we can’t live with them anymore. The normal people,” Angel said, slowly extending her wings.

  67

  “YOU’RE ONE of the birdkids,” the man said, much friendlier now, but Angel had the sense that he was reading from a script. “We’ve heard about you. Take them upstairs to Mark,” the man told Toni, completely ignoring Gazzy. Angel gave him a sweet smile, and she and Gazzy followed Toni down the hallway.

  This building, like so many others in Paris, was centuries old. They shuffled along narrow, winding hallways. The low, ancient doorways were blocked with steel grates. It was certainly well protected. Toni took out a huge key ring and had to open a series of locks at each door. As they went farther into the maze, Angel felt Gazzy’s panic rising at the memory of times they’d been locked in cages, and she tried to soothe him.

  Toni took Angel and Gazzy past several closed wooden doors, and Angel heard people singing: “The One Light is shining on me. The One Light makes everyone free…”

  Finally, they emerged in what seemed to be an abandoned factory. A few bare lightbulbs did little to brighten the ominous darkness of the enormous space.

  Several kids of different ages stood near a copy machine, bundling flyers. Some sat on the floor, folding flyers in thirds, then stapling them. They all looked gaunt and kind of unhealthy, though they had sort of a bright look in their eyes. Except for one kid, that is. He was banging his head against the wall, over and over, blood streaming down his face.

  “Wha-what’s with him?” Gazzy stammered in a small voice.

  Toni smiled. “Oh, don’t mind Allen. He just needs to learn to trust the One Light.”

  Angel tried to listen to random thoughts, but she pulled back from the compulsive, panicky minds she tapped into: Be perfect be perfect be perfect be perfect… This place was seriously giving her the willies.

  Toni stopped in front of a crusty, black door, where an older kid seemed to be standing guard. The kid nodded at Toni, then Toni knocked.

  “Come in!” a man’s voice boomed.

  When Toni opened the door,
Angel was hit with a blast of malevolence, greed, and lust for power, all overlaced with an oily charm. Angel swallowed hard and held Gazzy’s hand. It took every ounce of her willpower to force herself into that room. She tried to look wide-eyed and innocent, but her throat hurt, the dry, stale air almost choking her

  Toni shoved Angel ahead of her, through tall stacks of yellowing newspapers, until they came to an open, dimly lit area. A man stood there, his hands clasped behind his back. He was studying a wall covered in newspaper clippings, and a world map with cities circled in thick black marker. He had just tossed a crumpled sheet of newspaper into the open door of a nearby furnace that was throwing off heat worthy of Hades.

  “Toni!” the man said as he turned, narrowing his eyes. “You know we’ve reached our quota. Are you going against my wishes?”

  Toni shook her head. “No, Mark! Of course not!” she said quickly. “Rob sent me here with these two! I would never go against your wishes!”

  The man turned and looked directly at Angel. He seemed very old, even though his face was smooth and wrinkle free. But there was not that smiling emptiness that Angel had seen in other DG-ers. Angel sensed such pure evil that she held her breath and tried not to flinch.

  “No, of course not,” Mark said, smiling like the Cheshire cat. “You believe in the One Light. You want to be part of the solution, not the problem, don’t you, Toni?”

  “Yes, Mark,” Toni said frantically. Angel could feel Toni’s terror and saw incoherent orange light glowing menacingly in her mind. “I believe in the One Light. You know I do.”

  “Good girl,” said Mark, and Angel felt Toni almost weep with relief.

  Toni turned to Angel and Gazzy and pushed them forward. “Show him,” she said. Summoning her courage, Angel stepped closer, urging Gazzy to stay behind her as she carefully opened her wings.

  “Oh, that’s good,” Mark almost purred. “That’s very good. Your wings will bring great strength to many of our children.”