“Fang,” I said, my voice breaking. “Just live, okay? Live and be okay.”
With no warning, I leaned down and kissed his mouth, just like that.
“Ow,” he said, touching his split lip, then he and I stared at each other in shock.
Mortification heated my face. I glanced up to see Nudge and the Gasman gaping at me. Luckily, Iggy was blind, and Angel was getting Fang water.
Gazzy looked from me to Fang to Iggy, clearly thinking that he was sunk now that I had obviously severed all ties with reality.
Slowly, Fang levered himself into a sitting position, his jaw tight, sweat breaking out on his face. “Man,” he said, and coughed. “This feels pretty bad.”
It was about the most he’d ever admitted to, painwise. He stood clumsily and took the water from Angel. Taking a swig, he rinsed his mouth and spit it out onto the sand.
“I’m going to kill Ari,” Fang said.
119
Fang and the rest of us made it back to Manhattan without dropping out of the sky due to injury, exhaustion, or both.
“You macho thing, you,” I said when we finally landed in the darkness of Central Park. He looked worn out, clammy, and pale, but he had flown all the way with no complaint.
“That’s me,” he said, but he gave me a long look, like, I haven’t forgotten what you did, meaning the Kiss.
I blushed furiously, embarrassed beyond belief. I would never live that down.
“Are you really okay, Fang?” Nudge asked, the most touching concern in her voice. Nudge doted on Fang.
He looked like he’d fallen off a cliff, with huge purple bruises distorting his face, the awful scratches Ari had left on his cheeks, the stiff, pained way he moved.
“I’m cool,” he said. “Flying helped loosen me up some.”
“Look, let’s find a place to hunker down, catch some Zs, and then take another shot at the Institute,” I said. “We’ve got to figure it out—we can’t stop now. Right, guys?”
“Yeah, right,” Nudge said. “Let’s do it, get it over with. I want to know about my mom. And other stuff. I want to know the whole story, good or bad.”
“Me too,” said Gazzy. “I want to find my parents so I can tell’m what total scuzzes they are. Like, ‘Hi, Mom and Dad, you’re such scum!’”
I decided we’d better stay underground for safety’s sake. In the subway station, we jumped off the platform and walked quickly along the tracks. It looked familiar, and sure enough, a few minutes’ walking brought us to a huge firelit cavern populated by homeless people and misfits. Home, sweet home, especially if you happen to be a sewer rat.
“Boy, does this look inviting,” Fang said, rubbing his hands together.
I made a face at him as we climbed up onto the concrete ledge. Inside, I was glad that he had enough energy to be sarcastic.
Suddenly exhausted and emotionally wiped, I held out my left fist to make our bedtime stack. We did our thing, then Angel snuggled next to me. I checked to make sure the others, especially Fang, were okay, then I lay down, letting despair cover me like a blanket.
I was in the middle of another sleep-driven brain explosion when I felt myself surface to consciousness without opening my eyes. Not analyzing the impulse, I shot out my hand and grabbed someone’s wrist.
Moving fast, still on instinct, I sat up and twisted the intruder’s arm behind his back, my senses roaring to life.
“Cool it, sucker!” the arm’s owner whispered furiously. I yanked upward, threatening to pop his arm out of its socket. I definitely could’ve done it.
Fang creaked upright next to me, his eyes alert, but his body moving stiffly.
“You’re screwing with my Mac again,” said the hacker, and I loosened my hold on him. “Jeez, what happened to you?” Directed at Fang.
“Cut myself shaving,” Fang said.
The hacker frowned and rubbed his shoulder where I’d strained it. “Why’d you come back here?” he asked angrily. “You’re totally wrecking my hard drive.”