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 really young people. But... I'm the right age to actually join them." 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 rea.s.suring him, I'd rea.s.sured 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. 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. Angel thought at him. This was my thing. I can take care of myself. 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. 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. 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 b.u.t.ton. 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 antic.i.p.ation, 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 s.p.a.ce.

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 Be perfect be perfect be perfect be perfect... This place was seriously giving her the w.i.l.l.i.e.s.

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. .h.i.t with a blast of malevolence, greed, and l.u.s.t 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."

Angel wondered just exactly what that that was supposed to mean. Especially when the next thing Mark did was to pull a hot, glowing poker from the furnace nearby. was supposed to mean. Especially when the next thing Mark did was to pull a hot, glowing poker from the furnace nearby.

"Let's see if we can trust you," he said, moving toward her.

68.

THE DOOMSDAY GROUP posters announced that D-day was near, that when the world ended, the new regime would begin.

Why aren't crazy people content to take over, like, one town? It always has to be the whole world. They can't just control maybe twenty people. They have to control everyone. They can't just be stinking rich. They have to be incomprehensibly stinking rich. They can't just do genetic experiments on a couple unlucky few. They have to put something in the water. In the air. To get everyone.

I was tired of all of it.

But if their claims were true, this could be the worst thing we'd ever come up against. I couldn't take the chance. What was really getting to me was that since Angel and Gazzy had left yesterday afternoon, we hadn't heard from them. All sorts of bad scenarios played out in my brain, but I hoped if they'd been harmed, I would somehow know it, feel it.

"What time does the rally start?" Dylan asked.

"You saw the poster. Noon," I said, my anxiety making me cranky.

His eyes met mine, and his expression told me that he understood, that he didn't take it personally. Just then I remembered being with him atop the Arc de Triomphe. Being held, being comforted again wouldn't be such a bad thing right now.... I looked away, angry at myself for thinking like a weak and weepy damsel.

"We should go there early," said Nudge, fidgeting in her chair. Despite all the baddies and dangers and disasters we'd faced, this one felt different. We were all on edge.

I nodded. "We'll head there right after breakfast-and try to volunteer."

Fang's gang had its own plan; our part was to get jobs at the rally.

By 10:00 a.m., crowds were gathering at the Place de la Concorde. It was a huge plaza and could hold thousands of people. Somehow the DG had gotten permission to close off the traffic circle around the tall pink-marble obelisk that had been a gift from Egypt nearly two hundred years before.