“I’m gonna barf,” I whispered to Fang, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered back. “You always are.”

“I’m gonna die,” I moaned.

“You can’t die,” he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “You’re the indestructible Max.”

“I’ve never faced anything this hard before.” Yes, I sounded like a pathetic weenie. I prefer to think of it as showing my softer side.

“Max?” My mom stood at the door, smiling at me. She was all dressed up and looked fabulous. I would be lucky if I grew up to look like her. Which I guess would be hindered by my refusal to girlify myself. I looked down at my clean T-shirt and jeans. Mom had thoughtfully supplied me with a nice actual dress, but when I’d tried it on, I felt — I don’t know. Vulnerable? Like I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight.

Well, we all have issues.

At least my clothes were totally clean, though my T-shirt advertised Güero’s Taco Bar in Austin, Texas. On top of that I wore my traditional oversize, loose Windbreaker, because why would I want Congress staring at my wings?

Yes. Congress. There, in a nutshell, was my whoopsy-daisy life: Many evil people wanted to kill me, or sell me, or use me for evil purposes, and on the other hand, there I was, testifying about global warming to the Congress of the United States. Sometimes the lines got a little blurry.

“Okay, do you have your notes?” Brigid Dwyer came up and brushed some lint off my jacket, as if that would help.

“Yep.” I held up my sheaf of paper. Brigid, Michael, and the other scientists from the Wendy K. had helped me come up with what to say. All except Brian. He’d turned out to be another mole for the UD. He was in jail. There’s always one — or in this case two — in every crowd.

“I think they’re ready for you,” my mom said, gesturing at the open door. I could hear the buzzing of voices inside and wished fervently that the Capitol Building had an open ceiling that I could escape through if necessary.

“This is your mission,” said Jeb, smiling at me. “You’re fulfilling your mission right now, right here.”

I nodded, took a deep breath, and gave one last look at my flock. They were lined up, scrubbed clean, looking awed and a little freaked. Angel waved at me, and I waved back.

Showtime, folks.

Chapter 73

73

MY HANDS SHOOK. The microphone in front of me seemed too big, and I’d made it squeak by getting too close. I wished I could just beat someone up and get the heck out of here.

I cleared my throat and looked down at my speech.