Bess is the first to move. She runs toward Ben and wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. The sibling's exchange a couple of joyful words and then pull away from each other.

"I don't understand," I whisper, my body still frozen in place like someone had glued my feet to the floor.

Ben walks over to me, leaving about two feet between us. "I joined them so I could hunt down the person that did this to you." His blue eyes swim with sadness, and something else I can't quite pinpoint, and that makes me feel slightly uneasy. I've always been able to read him like a book.

"You mean, who saved me?" Something doesn't add up.

Ben reaches out to touch my shoulder but I flinch, and suddenly the vibe in the room makes a 180.

Shock spreads across his pale features and my eyes widen as I fight with my own mind. More than anything, I want his touch, to be in his arms again, like how it used to be before all this. But a feeling, or a sense, is fighting my mind and attaching itself to my subconscious like a parasite.

Now, my question is invalid, and everyone in the room knows that I wasn't just saved, I was changed.

"All I know," I suck in a sharp breath before meeting his eyes, "is that I died, you carried me out of there, and that I woke later that same day, perfectly fine. I need some answers, Ben, and you're the only one that can give them to me."

He nods and takes a step back. An unreadable emotion dancing in his eyes again. His mouth sets into a hard line. "Yeah," He turns on his heel. "Follow me," he says shortly. 

Ben leads Bess and me down a hallway, Danvers stays behind. At the end of the black-paneled corridor, is a large door that has a large word printed on it: DETENTION

My heart drops in my chest. I know that it can only mean one thing--

"Your answer is behind this door." Ben turns around, crossing his arms over his chest. His lips are still set into a firm line, and I have to repress shivering from a chill tickling my spine. I don't like this side of him, it's clear that I'm not the only one that has changed.

I feel a pair of hands capture one of my own that hangs at my side. My best friend, however, hasn't changed a bit since I met her roughly three years ago now.

I look over at Bess and give her a nod. She understands and lets go of my hand. I step forward and Ben steps aside, clearing my path. I pull open the door and step inside.

Inside the room, a man a few years older than me sits at a metal table. His head is hung low, causing his dark, curly hair to cover his face. The only other visible thing about him is his hands, covered in callused tan skin, that are handcuffed to the middle of the table.

Hesitantly, I sit in the empty metal chair across from him in the small room. Three walls are black, but one is a mirror, and I know Ben at least, and maybe Bess is y watching from the other side. That gives me the smallest bit of assurance.

"Who are you?" I mean for my voice to come out confident, but instead, my emotions betray me and it comes out soft and hesitant.

The man lifts his head slowly and then finally his eyes meet mine. They're a deep, warm brown, the color of dark chocolate.

I've seen those before, I think, and then it hits me like a ton of bricks in my gut.

I gasp for air, and I try to open my eyes, but it feels as if someone had glued them shut. With a grunt and using all my will power, I somehow manage to get them open about halfway. My eyes move around lazily from side to side. I try to make sense of my surroundings but for at least a whole minute everything is a hazy swirl of dull colors.

When my eyes can focus better, I can see that on one side there are bloody rags and cloths that have barely any of their original white color showing. On the other side of the room, I can see someone's back. My eyes stop roaming and I stare at the back of someone's black t-shirt, hoping that they'll turn around.

I want it to be Ben. I can't think hardly at all, but that much I can process. Then, he turns around, and instead of brilliant blue eyes, I see a rich brown. 

The next second my eyes are covered, and I fall back asleep.

"Mateo Ángel," the sound of his voice brings me back to reality.

We stare at each other silently while I collect myself mentally. His name rings a bell, and not in a remotely good way. "As in-- Julio Ángel of Los Hermanos de Sangre?"

Mateo leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. "That would be my father, yes." He has no reaction and his face gives away no emotion.

I lean forward in my seat, my arms fully on the table now. "What's the son of a kingpin get out of saving my life?"

His eyes flicker down, and I know I'm on the right track. At the sides of his square jaw, I notice the faintest tick and the corner of his slightly crooked lips turns down.

"I remember waking up only for a couple of seconds on a table. I saw you." I say, trying to push something--anything out of him.

But Mateo stares only at his cuffed wrists now, silent.

I wait, but he doesn't budge. With a sigh, I stand up.

"Wait," he says, finally looking up. With his face fully illuminated by the white-lights, I can see a small scar above the outer corner of his upper lip, and a streak of freckles spattered across his nose and cheeks. A sudden pang of guilt pulls in my chest, but I don't know what it's from.

I try to rationalize with myself by thinking, my subconscious probably just thinks I owe him for saving my life. And technically, that's not a far-fetched idea. I do feel as though he's my savior, in some really strange, and confusing way that I don't fully understand.

I sit back down, ready to finally get some answers now.

Mateo licks his lips before speaking. "That guy out there, Ben, he told me he would let me go if I told you what you wanted to know."

"So, tell me then," I scoot on the chair so that I'm on the edge of the seat.

His eyes flicker up and set on mine. "He brought you to my father. He was working on a project with The Superiors. Their project was just experimenting with DNA, mainly, to figure out why the Crawlers weren't dying. However, they were looking for a human subject..."

"What the hell?" My jaw slacks.

Mateo shrugs and continues. "Your friend, he caught word of it and brought you to them. In exchange for your life, he had to enlist and give any information he had on the insurgents."

My eyes move to the mirror-wall. He wouldn't do that, would he? I turn my gaze back to Mateo who watches me silently. But he did, or else I wouldn't be here.

He sold us out. That's why they've been one step ahead of us. This whole time. I push these thoughts to the back of my head and focus on the man in front of me.

"Do I have--" I pause and look down at my hands. "Am I--" I look up and meet Mateo's gaze. We both know the answer, but I need to hear him say it, just in case I'm wrong. I want to be wrong.

He nods.

"I'm part Crawler," I suck in a sharp breath and turn my head to the side. I can't look at him, he did this to me. Any feelings of gratefulness I had for him since realizing that he saved my life, disappears with those three words.

I shake my head in disbelief. "You should've left me dead."

"I agree," he says. His response doesn't sit well in my gut.

 My head snaps up at this. The gears in my head start turning. Something else is going on. "Why are you really here?" I stare at him in the eyes, point-blank.

Mateo cocks his head to the side slightly, "I'm a bargaining chip. The Superiors have decided that they want the serum that brought you back to life, for themselves."

The door slams open and Ben barges in, a scowl on his pale face. "That's enough, let's go, Aria." He grabs my arm and shoves me out of the room, not super rough, but unfortunately, not very gentle either.

He slams the door behind us and ushers me back into the middle of the ship where I see Bess look over, pausing her conversation with Danvers.

"What the hell, Ben! You're supposed to let him go, not use him to get a serum that should be destroyed!" I whip around to face him as soon as he lets me go.

Ben crosses his arms over his chest and his mouth is set into a firm line. "That's really none of your concern, Aria. You're an insurgent, you're lucky that they want you alive."

"To be a freaking guinea pig! You're so blind Ben, they're controlling you!"

"I'm protecting you!" He yells back, stepping closer to me. His brilliant blue eyes meet mine. "If I'm with them, I know what's happening, I know what's going on. I can keep you safe this way."

My mouth drops open. "They're the bad guys, Ben! You are so naive!"

He opens his mouth to repute, but he's interrupted by a loud crash and then the sudden spinning and dropping of the plane.

I hear Bess screaming somewhere to my left. The plane shudders, coming to a still. I fly backward and end up on my back.

The wind is knocked out of me and I have to gasp for air.

"What the hell is going on!" Bess yells, standing up from the ground, from where she was knocked off her feet, like the rest of us.

Ben and Danvers hop up from the ground and share a grim look.

I push myself up, still struggling to breathe properly.

Danvers jaw ticks at the side from clenching his mouth shut. He shakes his head and balls his fists. "Damn it! Garrett was right."

"Garrett?" I step closer to him. My eyebrows rise on my forehead and I feel the corner of my eye twitch. "What the hell has he got to do with this?"

"Who's Garrett?" Ben chimes in.

Bess butts in and tells him, "The new leader of the Insurgents. You don't know him, since, you know, he joined after you betrayed us." She crosses her arms over her chest. She's seriously pissed, and that's a rare mood for Bess.

Ben opens his mouth to argue with her, but Danvers cuts off their unimportant quarrel. "We've been in loose contact for years. We're not allies, by any means, but it was important to both of us to ensure your safety," He looks at me. "But when you ran off, he contacted me to inform me of an ambush that's supposed to happen. I didn't believe him, I thought he was just trying to get me to leave you off the radar, since, technically, I'm breaking our deal right now."

"What deal?" I say quickly. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait in anticipation for the answer. 

"Garrett and I-" Unfortunately, he doesn't get to finish because the ramp to the plane is pulled down suddenly, hitting the ground with a loud bang.

Footsteps echo and a large shadow appears below. As the dark blob comes closer, it is quickly made evident to me that it is in fact not a shadow, but a group of menacing-looking men and women who have guns in hand, tattoos on their skin, and belts of ammo strapped around their backs and waists. I don't need to ask to know who they are. Los Hermanos de Sangre.

A man in his forties walks about a yard in front of the rest. His deep brown eyes don't wander, but focus on Danvers, who stands directly across from him. He stops walking when he stands only a couple of feet away from him.

At the side opposite of the ramp in the cargo hold, a door that I presume leads to the front of the plane slams open. A man in a navy jumpsuit runs in panting. There's a deep gash above his brow and he holds a headset in his hand that I can just barely hear static coming from.

Then, in an instant, there's a gunshot and the pilot is on the ground, unmoving.

My mouth twitches downward and I have to look away as blood begins to pool around his body.

Bess gasps but no one else in the room makes a sound, accustomed to this kind of behavior that is a constant reminder of the harsh reality that we live in. I became numb to violence a long time ago, but some people, like Bess, will never grow a tolerance for it.

"You know what I want." The stranger doesn't waver and his face barely moves as he speaks. From his voice, however, I could clearly tell his native tongue is not English. He drops his gun, letting it hang at his side now.

As Danvers and the leader of the gang that's boarded the ship uninvited, have a stare-off with each other, I take the opportunity to observe him. His skin is darkly tanned, and sunspots have begun to appear on his face. It's blatantly obvious who he is and what he's here for based on his looks alone. The dark eyes, square jaw, and slightly crooked lips were just the beginning of the similarities. But even more so, his tone of voice solidifies it.

"If you don't bring me my son, I'll kill every person on this plane. I'll find him either way. It's just up to you how much blood you want on your hands today," he tells him plainly.

Danvers's face falters and he gives in. "Warm as ever, Julio. This way." He pulls the sleeves of his suit down in an effort to look more confident, and turns around, leading him away from the group.

I look between Bess (who looks frightened as balls but is trying to keep a calm composure), a stoic Ben, and the not-so-friendly-looking gang on the ramp. My heart-beat rises in my chest and my hand instinctively twitches towards my belt, where I have a stun grenade disguised as a lighter is safely tucked inside a small pouch.

My eyes focus on Ben's movements, awaiting any signal of danger, ready to spring into action at any moment. However, he doesn't waver. He appears void of emotion for the moment.

My heart years for his smile that I have yet to see. In the last two years not only did I change, but Ben has become a completely different man than the one I fell in love with all those years ago. For a split second, memories of our happy past fill my mind before they disappear and reality overcomes my senses.

Footsteps bring me back to the present, and Danvers appears across the room, closely followed by Julio, and then Mateo.

Without a word, Julio leads Mateo back over to the group of about twenty people that stand on the ramp. When they reach them, they turn and begin to walk off the ship. 

But then Mateo glances at me over his shoulder. His lips move as he says something to his father. Julio then comes to halt and says, "Stop." A simple word that turns my blood cold.

Julio turns and looks at me dead in the eye. "To think I almost left without the thing that I was looking for all along."

If my blood was cold before, now it is freezing. I take a step back. "You want the serum, I don't have that," I tell him truthfully. It's the only thing helpful I remember Mateo telling me in this confusing mess.

Julio shakes his head, a blank expression still on his tan features. "Yes, you do."

Then it hits me like a freaking train. He wants me so he can duplicate his experiment.

"Oh my God," Bess says, out of the blue. She gasps but I can't look over at her, I'm frozen in place.

Julio looks over at a couple of brutish men and nods his head. They begin to walk towards me, but Ben jumps in front of me, blocking them.

"Absolutely not," he tells Julio.

I have to take a step to the side so I can see how Julio will respond, instead of just having to stare at Ben's back.

Julio shrugs, "So be it."

At the sight of the twitch of his hand, I unclasp the pouch at my side and send the little, metal bomb flying. I grab Ben's arm, turning him around and I cover my eyes with my hands. A flash of light consumes the room and the plane rumbles beneath my feet.

After a second passes, I open my eyes and I run over to Bess, grabbing her hand. "Let's go!" I yell as she stumbles to keep up, her eyes squinting, still disoriented from the flash-grenade.

Behind me, Ben roughly grabs Danvers. We jump over the dead pilot and sprint through the doorway leading to the front just as Julio's gang begins to send bullets flying towards us. The gunshots echo behind us and the sound of the metal shell-casings hit the floor with high-pitched clinks.

I spot the cockpit up ahead and keep focused on getting there, and not the burning in my legs. Jumping up a step I pull Bess up with me and then immediately look for the coms.

Ben appears next to me and begins to press some buttons on the dashboard while I pick up a headset that was hanging on the wall and hold it out to him. He takes it and cranks a dial.

The static buzzes in my ear for a few seconds before I hear another voice on the other end of the line. "Bravo six, do you copy? Bravo six what is your status?" A woman asks repeatedly.

"This Ben Fowler aboard bravo six. The angels have taken us, I repeat, the angels have taken us." He says into the mic.

The line goes silent again, and the gunshots in the cargo hold cease. I look over my shoulder to see no one in the hallway. A chill threatens to creep through my body. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that something is about to go terribly wrong.

"Copy that. Superior One has denied reinforcements."

Ben scowls. "We have the package aboard!" He yells into the com.

"Did you say the package?" The woman replies.

"Affirmative," he says, a growl hinting in his tone.

The room grows silent again and I catch Denvers and Bess's gaze behind me. The three of us share a look of fear and confusion. We already know what will happen. They're going to leave us for dead.

The line cuts in again. "Reinforcements have been affirmed as negative. This line will now lose contact with the hub." Then it cuts out and static fills the speakers.

Ben throws the headset down and presses a button on the dash. The static disappears and we're all left in silence. He turns around to face me, ignoring Danvers as he steps forward.

"What are we supposed to do now, Fowler?" Danvers' hands raise up at his sides and his dark eyebrows furrow together, causing a deep crease in his forehead.

Ben pays him no attention. His dull blue eyes stare into mine, and for the first time today, I can see a glimpse of true, raw, emotion behind them--regret. "We give them what they want."