“Out of the question!” my mom said. “Jeb, this is crazy! How could you?! You’re going to drop this right now, or you’ll have to leave! I don’t want to hear another word about Max breeding with anyone!”

Dr. Hans looked like he wanted to say something else, but he stopped himself.

The worst part? When I cast a surreptitious glance at Dylan and saw the discomfort in his beautiful turquoise eyes morph into a flicker of hope.

9

HE WAS COMING. Fang’s first target.

Fang pressed his back against the brick wall, sinking deep into the shadows. For hours he’d been waiting for the gang to disperse, for his guy to head off alone. The group had been shooting hoops, playing dice, smoking and drinking. Fang had heard bottles break and angry disputes dissolve into laughter.

It was late, a bit past midnight. The air was cold. Fang crouched against the wall of the abandoned building, its windows broken and burned out. The deserted lot was full of stuff people probably didn’t know how to get rid of: a stripped car, its side still blotched with red Bondo; an old mattress; naked box springs; half a baby’s crib, smashed and spray painted.

Fang had been waiting here, still and silent, for most of the night. This was what he’d left the flock to do. This is what Max would not have understood.

He could hear footsteps approaching him. It was his guy, no doubt. An empty glass bottle struck the wall and shattered with a force that seemed unnaturally loud.

Three, two, one…

With precise timing, Fang sprang out from the darkness.

But there was no one there. What the?

Before Fang knew what was happening, the guy had shoved him against the wall, a knife at his throat.

“No one sneaks up on me, friend,” the hooded figure whispered into Fang’s ear. “Been looking for you”—his eyes flashed as he leaned in closer—“and from what I hear, you’ve been looking for me too.”

Fang always kept cool, but he couldn’t help letting a smile come to his lips. This guy was good. He was quick and strong and scary. Fang was going to need someone with those qualities on his team. But he wouldn’t let himself be subdued so easily, and certainly not by a mere candidate. And his first one at that. Fang would be the leader, and he needed to let this guy know who was boss.

With an almost imperceptible flick of his arm, Fang grabbed the hand holding the knife and twisted it behind the guy’s back, pinning him. In the same instant Fang’s, other hand clapped over the guy’s mouth.

“Don’t say a word, Ratchet. Your friends can’t know I’m here.”