That’s dedication for ya.

That thing hadn’t grafted that gun to his arm by himself. Someone had made him. That someone was still out there and possibly had made more things like him.

On the other hand… the CSM was really counting on us to continue the air shows. These shows were taking place in some of the most polluted cities in the world: Los Angeles, Sao Paulo, Moscow, Beijing. So far they’d been big successes, and the CSM had been able to hand out tons of cards and leaflets educating people about pollution and greenhouse gases.

My mom was a member of the CSM. She’d never want to put us in danger, but… I hated to let her down. She’d saved my life a bunch of times. She was helping the flock any way she could. This was the only thing she’d ever asked me to do. How could I tell her that I wanted to bail?

“Maybe if we just do the air shows but have them way step up security,” I said slowly.

“No,” said Fang.

Okay. I may be fabulous in a lot of ways, but I know I have a couple tiny flaws. One of them is a really bad knee-jerk reaction whenever anyone tells me no about anything.

You’d think Fang would have picked up on that by now.

I raised my chin and looked him in the eye. The flock, being smarter than the average gang of winged bears, went still.

Slowly, I stood up and walked closer to Fang. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Total slither beneath a bed, saw Gazzy quickly pull Iggy into the boys’ room next door.

Until last year, I’d been taller than both Fang and Iggy. They’d not only caught up but had shot several inches past me, which I hated. Now Fang looked down at me, his eyes so dark I couldn’t see where his pupils were.