The room fell silent as the men waited for someone to say she was kidding. When no one did, Angel motioned again to the table and chairs set up in the suite’s dining area. The men hesitated.

“I hear the usual agent share is fifteen percent,” Angel said, concentrating, focusing. “We need ninety-five percent.” Chuckling at Angel’s joke, they relaxed and trickled over to the table to sit down.

Of course, Angel wasn’t joking. An hour later, they got up, looking pale, shaken, and incredulous. They stared at the copies of the contract on the table like they couldn’t believe they had actually signed them.

“ ’Kthnxbye!” Angel said brightly, opening the door for them. The men wandered out as if they had just barely survived a crash.

“What did you do to them?” Jeb asked.

“Persuaded them.” Angel’s too innocent face wouldn’t have fooled a kindergartner. “Isn’t that what a good leader would do?”

“Angel, we’ve talked about —,” Jeb began.

“Come on, everyone!” Angel cried. “Press conference by the pool!”

Chapter 59

59

“REPORTERS?” GAZZY ASKED. “Max will kill us if she finds out about this.”

“Max isn’t in charge anymore,” Angel reminded him coolly. “It’s time the world knew about our special abilities.”

“I’m not feeling that special right now,” said Iggy, hunched over in a chair. “I’ve been feeling weird all afternoon.”

Nudge frowned. “Me too. Not sick, exactly, but weird. Like, tingly, all over.”

Jeb heard this last bit and he quickly searched Nudge’s face. “Tingly? On your skin or inside?”

“All over,” said Nudge.

“I feel that way too,” said Gazzy. “I didn’t even realize it till you said it. I thought it was just the PowerDrives kicking in.”

“Let’s get through this press conference,” Angel said briskly, “then we can figure out what’s going on.” She was feeling weird herself, but it was showtime, folks.

Ten minutes later, they were stretched out on lounge chairs by the hotel pool.

“Where’s our waiter?” Nudge asked ten minutes after that. She tipped her pink star-shaped sunglasses down on her nose. “I need more iced tea.”

Dylan stood up. “I was going to get some — I’ll get yours too.”

“Here are the reporters,” Angel announced, pointing at a small throng of people who were being let into the fenced pool area. The private security team frisked each one and checked their names off on a list.

Dylan reappeared with the iced teas, and several of the reporters gasped or went speechless at the sight of him. Angel grinned. Who needed Fang when they had Dylan? The flock was a whole lot nicer to look at — and be a part of — with him around.

She motioned for the security people to let the reporters come closer. There were about ten of them, some carrying microphones, some with big video cameras on their shoulders.