his shoulder, preening her feathers and shaking them, the way she did when she was super happy.
“Jeez, you’re tall,” the blind guy said. His fingers traced my nose, my eyebrows, and the curve of my ears, skimming over the various studs, rings, points, and hoops along the way. He drew in a shuddering breath, one hand on my shoulder. “Guys—this… is Phoenix! Taller and older.”
“My name is Hawk,” I said, but they were coming at me now, no shotgun, just a trio of grown-ups staring at me. Except the blind guy, who kept touching my face, my eyebrows, my earlobes.
“Hawk!” I tried again, but it sounded like “Baw!” I’m one point eight meters tall, but they were all as tall as I was, or taller. Only the woman was maybe an inch shorter than me. Slowly they surrounded me—one of my favorite positions—and then they were all hugging me. Hugging me. Like, with hugs. I stiffened, not knowing what to do with all the affection from people I didn’t know, and trying to keep everybody from bumping the wound on my face. My shoulder felt wet—I peered down and saw it was because the woman was crying.
It was so awkward and uncomfortable I almost threw up. Also, I couldn’t breathe.
“Phoenix, Phoenix, Phoenix!” the woman murmured. She drew back, her face wet with tears, large brown eyes shining. She took my appalled face gently in her hands. “Is it you? After all this time?”
“No,” I said tensely. “It’s Hawk, after like a minute.”
“Gosh, whose daughter does she sound like?” the blond—not blind—guy said.
I thought about the inmate saying I was his daughter, but didn’t say anything. Better to keep some tricks up my sleeve.
“I’m Nudge,” the woman said, hugging me tightly. It took all my self-control to stand there and take it. “Don’t you remember?”
“Iggy,” said the blind guy, reaching out and wiping away the woman’s tears. How he knew she was crying or where her cheeks were, I don’t know.
“Gazzy,” said the other guy, holding the shotgun behind him. “The Gasman.”
“We’re the Flock,” the woman said, like that should mean something.
“Flock of what?” I asked, totally confused. Then I stepped back, mouth open, as pair after pair after pair of enormous, powerful wings unfolded in the moonlight.
CHAPTER 33
My whole life, I’d been the only person I knew with wings. Calypso had antennas, Moke was blue, Rain had rain skin, and I’d seen a thousand poor freaks with everything from horns to see-through ears (I know—why???) to multiple sets of fingers, toes, and boobs. But I’d never, ever seen another pair of wings, till the prison guy had raised his.
Just then the blare of the Voxvoce sounded loudly in the city a hundred stories below. Like me, it didn’t seem to bother these people.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “What are you?”
“Have you looked in a mirror, kid?” said the Ghost Guy. Iggy. “We’re like you. Or, you’re like us. We’re the Flock.”
“We’re your Flock,” the woman—Nudge? What kind of a name is that?—said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said flatly. “But my friends are being hurt, and I was told you could help me. Now, are you in or out?”
“Ooh, voice from the past,” the blond guy—Gazzy?—murmured.
“Who told you we could help you?” Nudge asked gently.
“This horrible prisoner, at the place I live at,” I said. “He’s the worst of the worst, they said. A child killer.”
“You live in a prison?” Iggy asked.
“I live at a Children’s Home in the same complex as the prison,” I explained, thinking of all the seconds ticking by, seconds of Calypso hanging by one hand while Rainbow rotted her brain.
“Did he tell you his name?” Nudge persisted, like she just wasn’t going to stop. Oh! That’s why her name was Nudge! Got it.
“He said to tell you Fang sent me,” I said.
“Yes!” Gazzy punched the air. “She knows where Fang is!”
“Okay, now, Fang is at this children’s home?” Iggy said, suddenly all business.
“No!” I said impatiently. “Fang is in prison, which is part of a much bigger complex, with things like this children’s home, but also a lab.”
“That’s weird,” Gazzy said. He looked at the others. “Isn’t that weird?”
“We specialize in weird,” Nudge said dryly, then motioned to me. “Come on, sit down, eat something while we come up with a plan.”
“My friends are in danger now,” I said.
Nudge sat down on an upturned wooden box and started rustling in a big leather backpack. “I know, honey. Would it be better for