He grinned, one of his rare grins that make the world spin a little faster. As if he didn’t know what he was doing, he reached out and touched my hair where it lay on my shoulders. “You look . . . like a girl.” His voice held bemusement.

“There’s a reason for that,” I said seriously.

“No, I mean like a real —” He seemed to catch himself, shook his head, and looked back out the window.

I crossed my arms. “Like a real what?” Watch your step here, Fang, I thought, or I’ll flatten you.

While he hesitated, Nudge came up. “Ooh, Max, you look great!” she said, admiring my clothes. “That top is totally hot! You look like you’re at least sixteen!”

“Thanks,” I muttered, now feeling embarrassed. Since my usual attire is ancient and usually bloodstained T-shirts and jeans, I guess I did look a little different.

Okay, Max.

My eyes flickered when I heard the Voice inside my head. (You mean you don’t have one? You can get ’em at Target.)

This meeting is very important, so no funny business. Just remember your mission, keep your mind open, and listen to what they have to say.

Yeah, whatever, Jeb, I thought. Save the world, yada, yada, yada. You can go now.

I’m not Jeb, said the Voice. You were wrong about that.

Huh? I thought blankly.

You have part of the picture, Max, said the Voice. Not all of the picture. Sometimes when you’re at your most certain, that’s when everything you know is wrong.

Oh, God, not again. I wanted to scream. My whole life was taking two steps forward and one step back. Would I ever just get ahead?

You’re making progress, the Voice assured me. You’re a couple steps ahead.

Just then Jeb came into the room. He rubbed his hands together as if he were cold. “Time to go, kids.”

Chapter 8

8

YOU’VE ALL SEEN the Capitol Building in Washington DC, like on postcards, right? It’s the big white one with the dome on top that isn’t the White House. Anyway, it’s gigundo. We drove up in our black limousine, feeling like celebrities. Inside we were led through a series of hallways and stairs until we were in a large conference room with a great view of some gardens.

In the conference room, about twenty people sat around a big wooden table. Some of the people were in military uniforms. Everyone sat up and turned to stare at us when we came in, surrounded by Secret Service agents. I didn’t even know I wanted to hold someone’s hand until Mom laced her fingers in mine and gave a squeeze. Suddenly it all seemed better.