Relief rose through me like champagne bubbles and I pulled him into a tight hug. "Dewey!"

"You look like crap," he said, giving me a squeeze.

I blinked back tears of relief. "Whose fault is that?"

"Don’t blame me, I didn’t invite you."

"You didn’t invite anyone," I said, smiling stupidly.

"Well, there wasn’t time to put together a guest list."

Behind me, Maddie snorted softly. "See?"

"Would you tell her what's going on?" I asked Dewey, stepping back. "Those jackholes dragged you from bed and strapped you to a stretcher."

"What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about, what am I talking about?"

His brow furrowed. "Did Maddie tell you what’s going on?"

"I told him," she said. "He doesn’t believe me."

"What part don’t you believe?" Dewey asked me.

"What part?" I said, the champagne bubbles turning to acid. "The part where they politely asked you to come to the city instead of kidnaping you from your room in the night at gunpoint."

"That’s not important," he said. "What matters is why."

"They--they shot at your dad. They tried to kill me."

His grin didn’t waver. "Did you know we’re not alone? People like us. There’s dozens of freaks around the world. Hundreds--I don't know, thousands? There’s a lady who turns into mush and a, a guy who melts glass with his hands. There's some mindblowing weirdness, Lark. But there’s a clock ticking, too. There’s a countdown. We’re living inside the blast radius of a nuclear bomb, and only one guy knows how to disarm it."

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A sick feeling coiled in my stomach. "You mean Boone?"

"You got a better idea?"

"Yes," I said, trying not to scream at him. "The cops or the feds."

"The feds," he chopped his hand, agreeing. "Who do you think is backing Boone?"

"I don’t know--and neither do you." But I did know one thing: I needed to get them both away from PJ. "You don't know anything. You don't--"

"They told me about Rachel Boone," Dewitt interrupted. "She shot her dad. Put a bullet directly into the back of his head."

"I guess that’s why they sent her to prison."

"So if PJ kidnapped Dewitt," Maddie said, "that’s terrible. But if Rachel shot her father, that’s okay? We’re all trying to do the right thing, Lark. All of us. You always wondered why your sister died, why she died and you lived. Why you got the orbs. Well, now you know. Because you’re a soldier, and this is the draft."

"You’re with the bad guys, Maddie. They’re killing people."

"I told you--"

"I’m taking you home," I interrupted. "Both of you. PJ’s living inside your heads."

"You’re not listening," Dewitt said. "This is bigger than us, this is--"

"Here," Maddie interrupted, showing me a piece of damp cloth. "Check this."

"What is that, a--?"

Pain serrated the base of my skull.

I screamed and the world dimmed and my knees buckled. Waves of agony made my vision flicker, and over a thundering avalanche of pain I heard the faint buzzing of insect wings. I felt the tug of tiny feet in my hair.

A mozzy had climbed my shirt and stung the back of my neck.

Before the shock passed, Dewitt grabbed me in a bearhug, squeezing his chest tight against mine.

"That’s a mozzy," Maddie said, bringing the damp cloth toward my face. "And this is going to knock you out."

"Settle down, brother," Dewitt breathed into my ear. "It’ll be over in a second."

I couldn’t free the orbs, not with Dewitt crushed against me. I kneed at him weakly but he twisted away.

"They let us talk to you," he said, between gritted teeth. "Because we know you, Lark--we love you."

Maddie clamped the cloth against my face. A chemical stink burned my nose. Panic flared I pressed the orbs against Dewitt, but he just clung tighter; hew knew if I pressed too hard, I'd hurt him. He knew I couldn't do that.

I saw a bottomless narcotic resolve in his eyes as my lungs struggled for air.