I don't know how long Gats and I lie there like that, my wings outstretched and bleeding, his head nuzzled against my chest. Long enough that a few weeks ago, I would've laughed and squirmed away from him by now, my cheeks flushed to an uneven, ever-darkening red. But it's the swell and fall of his chest, the soft sound of his inhales and exhales, and the touch of his gentle hand looping a snarl of my hair around his fingertips that remind me he is here, and that if I close my eyes I can imagine us pressed liked this forever, nothing but him and me and the darkness.  

And so we lay together, staring up at the shadows passing over the ceiling, until I rest my hand in his hair and we fall asleep on the cool carpet, Gats just beginning to purr. We're safe, I think, at least for now, and I fall asleep with him still pressed to my chest, the coppery smell of blood only an itch at the broad of my thoughts. 

Katris whimpers and Heaven cooes at him. Jaylin grumbles and her storm of footsteps fills the apartment with haunting echoes. These sounds ebb into visions of fire and chains and laughter and screams, and I wake up in a coat of sweat with Gatsby's hair wound in my fist. 

Afraid to wake him, I scream silently against his shoulder, blinking for tears that won't come. 

Needless to say, I skip the next day of school, and so the rest of us, minus a Shiro who scuttles off quickly. I've already lost a lot of time, but adventures, if that's what you want to call these experiences, they take energy. And my wing aches. What I get for hacking at it with a piece of glass. I spend the morning binding the shredded muscle with the leftover bandages Toby brought before taking Keppler to the park, And after that, I put up a bucket and soak the blood from the carpet with a wet rag. There's a lot of it, and Gats leaves me in favor of napping with his favorite wolf.

It's Katris who worries me. His skin is full of scars, and his eyes are covered in white bandages.He hobbles around the apartment, cussing and occasionally crying. Toby helps him. He sits with him long into the day, sipping coffee and talking in low tones The guardians are still gone and Toby watches, tired, until he receives a phone call late in the afternoon and I beg him to return to the hospital, where he's needed. Heaven promises to watch us, and the man nods tiredly, rubbing his eyes and wincing as he drags himself out the door.

Heaven perches on the couch until she hears screams from across the state and she takes off, reminding me over her shoulder just to shout for her if ever I need her to come. Katris stumbles up to me, smooths his hand against the grove of my neck, steadies himself, and punches me so hard I scream. And then lie there, making these hollow, sucking gasps for air. But my brother looks so helpless with his eyes covered his skin crisscrossed with stitches, I only offer him a pat on the back of his head. "I can grab you a soda," I say, bruise blooming under my left rib, "if you want it."

"It's no use," he says softly, bandaged wings stretching against his shoulder blades. He backs against the couch and sinks into the cushions, trembling. He has never stopped trembling. Last night I could swear I heard his ribcage rattle. And In case you haven't been counting, that's another wayward teen added to the mix. "They're going to eat you alive." He sighs.

Jaylin sits with him. She leaves her hand on his forearm, silent. She stares at his broken wings, and then she stares at the shadows passing over the ceiling, running her fingertips over his palms. He shakes and she presses her face into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

He holds his face in his hands. "How long 'til she comes for us?"

"I dunno."

"Why did you tell her?" His voice is strangely cool. He turns his arm over, exposing Xs of wire and torn, tender grooves of flesh. I lean on the back of his couch, watching the door with my arms crossed over an aching chest. Waiting, maybe for Heaven, who's patrolling across the city, or maybe for Toby, who's working. Or my guardians, who have left and never returned.

"It was Cleo. I had too."

His voice tremors. "I didn't."

I run my hands through my hair. "Can I get you guys anything?"

"Catalyst," Poison, Katris, whatever he calls himself, says,"If I could I see, I'd kill you right now."

She snorts sadly, her shoulders sagging and her hair curtaining her eyes.  Her voice is strained and quiet. "I miss fighting with you."

"You left us. For what? For him?" Katris sweeps his hand in my general direction. "If you did, you're doing a terrible job protecting him."

Heat rushes to my face. "She's fine. I don't need her to protect me. I'm safe."

"Who says I left because of him?" The wolf pads across the carpet, tail whipping. She noses my bleeding wing and I red my hand on the back of her neck, running my fingers through her scruffy fur. "Maybe I didn't want to hurt people."

"If you really don't want to be one of us, then why would you tell Cleo what she wanted to know?"

"I..."

"You're a villain, and you want to stay a villain." He's biting the corner of his mouth so hard, blood rises from a cracked lip. "You're going to get us all killed. So pick."

"Pick what?" Her voice rises from her sustained whisper. She clenches the couch throw until her knuckles shake, and she stands up. "You or him?"

I lean over, scratching a diamond of dirty fur on Kepler's throat. "Jay, give him a little space. He's not himsel—"

"What do you know about me, Luce?" The mention of my aura's name has the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. Keppler sniffs at my skin, then begins to growl. I flinch, blinking down at the carpet. I've left bloody footprints on the ground and bits of rubber tread caught in a black, jelly sap. "How do you know what I'm like?"

I lift my hands, feeling that strange heat tingling under my skin. "I'm sorry. Just...with what you've been through..."

"I don't like you," he says, "and I don't like Cat here, either. She's the worst."

"I am," she responds, "the worst. Proud of it. What are you trying to say?'

Keppler is still snarling at me. The heat rises from the coils of veins around my bones, the muscles in my hands and arms beginning to twitch. I swallow unevenly.

"I'm saying that I don't like him because he's weak. If Cleo got her hands on him, she'd break him. You more or less guaranteed that last night. So if you switched sides to save him, you failed. He's going to suffer because of you."

"Guys, stop." I am ignored. They continue to shout in their strained whispers, and as their voices rise, my knuckle flex, searing at the joints.

"That's not true!"

"You can come back with me. We'll make up something and Dad'll take you into his ranks. We can bring Angel with us, if it'll make you feel better." He rises, leaning on the arm of the couch. A single bead of blood stains his fresh bandages. "You'll be happy with the villains. These people don't understand you."

"I'm sitting right here." They're betraying you. Everyone betrays you. Sweat runs down my temple, the heat churning deep under my ribs. It beats like another heart.

"Who cares if I'm happy? Why do you care if Cleo hurts him?"

"He's my broth...look, it doesn't matter. It doesn't. Just come back or quit following our rules and act like them." His mouth tips up into a sneer and he points shakily above my head. The gesture makes a pang well up in my stomach. Poor guy. He lays a hand against Jaylin's cheek, flinches, and finally finds her shoulder as Jaylin goes still with pity. Sheer pity. I can see it in the wince that pulls over her gentle features, and for a second, I'm almost glad he can't see it. "If you really wanted to be one of them, you wouldn't have told her."

"It was...habit," she says weakly.

His grip tightens. "Then come with me."

Keppler is still baring her fangs at me, something she isn't supposed to be able to do, what with the taming, the selective breeding, the genetic tampering. Heat crawls up the base of my neck. I reach for Jaylin's hand.

"You just made a mistake, is all." You can't get away from this. From me. My breath hitches. "I, uh, I don't think going back with Fallout is a good idea. And I...I really care about you."

"She's a villain," Katris says, tossing a lock of hair out of his face as if for emphasis. "She destroys guys like you for fun. You—" He laughs, a sharp, strange bark. "I am going to die, and I'm trying to coach you on your love life."

Jaylin draws in a breath. "I'm sorry." She wriggles out of Katris's grasp. Pulls her hand away from mine. "I was just...so scared....I didn't mean to...."

But my eye is twitching. And the wolf lunges as my arm reaches out, and the flames explode. There's no particular reason this time. I'm uncomfortable, yeah, but not angry. Not threatened or scared. Not like I was last night. I strangle a scream. How long are you going to try to control me? You can't. My shoulder jerks and my fingers sink into Katris's shoulder. And then the flames whip up on my skin, flames that smell like burnt rubber.

"Oh, hey! Angel!" Gats stalks out of my room, smiling brilliantly. Cell phone raised. My breath is heaving and I see in purple and red. My head is filled with images and nightmares.  Tongues of fire flicker over a landscape of ashes. You want to watch it all burn. "Oh," he says, deflating. "Oh, great. Why is he doing that?"

He's coming for you. I wheeze on my own spit. The flames melt into blood which dribbles from my fingers, but the blood is cold. A vision. I'm acutely aware of this as Jaylin cusses something and I squeeze my eyes shut. Luce can't manipulate what he can't see. But I'm still shaking. It's imagined, all imagined. The blood gooping to my fingertips, the icy chill of it as it races down my skin. But by then, you won't exist.