I WAS STILL about a half mile from home when I smelled smoke. I sped up, and my heart seized as I saw the toofamiliar bright flickering of flames coming from inside the house. I swooped inside and skidded to a halt in the foyer.

Our couch was in flames.

Jeb hurried in from the kitchen, Angel right behind him. He had a big mixing bowl of water, and Angel had a juice pitcher. They threw the water onto the couch, where it barely made a dent in the blaze.

“What’s going on here?” I shouted as loud as I could to be heard over the din of bird kids yelping at one another. I lunged into the kitchen and grabbed a red cylinder out of the corner. “Any of you ever hear of a fire extinguisher?” I screeched as I put out the blaze.

Everyone turned and started yelling at me, God only knows why. I covered my ears. “Where’s Fang?”

Nudge put her hands on her hips, tears in her eyes. “Isn’t he with you?” she asked. “He’s always with you.”

Just then, to complete my perfect evening, the automatic sprinkler system finally detected the blaze and went off, spraying us all, soaking everything with cold water. I stood there, my hair getting plastered down. The couch sputtered and fizzled and filled the air with the scent of Eau de Wet ‘n’ Charred upholstery.

I gave Gazzy my best “You’re in so much trouble” glare and went out onto the back deck to look for Fang.

On the deck, I jumped to the railing and balanced there, planning my search pattern. It wasn’t long before I could make out Dylan’s voice nearby — he was under the house, close to the edge of the cliff.

I jumped over the railing and landed on the ground almost silently. I saw Dylan first, and then, with a flood of relief, Fang. They were standing tensely by a concrete piling. I could tell this wasn’t, like, guys’ night out.

“This is bigger than you and what you want.” Dylan sounded ice cold. It was actually the first time I’d heard his voice like that, and it was unnerving somehow. “I’m telling you, the danger I saw today was real.”

Fang’s voice was just as cold as Dylan’s. “Why should I believe you? We don’t know anything about you.”

“I get that, Fang. What matters is that I know a lot about her,” Dylan said. “Probably even more than you do.”

Fang’s face showed dark fury. I might have witnessed the first bird kid boy fight in history if I hadn’t bolted forward, my feet crunching on the gravel. “Fang!”

They swiveled and saw me. Dylan looked taken aback, and Fang’s expression was angry and shut.

“The house was on fire,” I greeted them tersely. “In case you’re interested.”