James Patterson - Two Schools Out - Forever

"It'll never be time!" Ari exploded, pacing angrily around the room. "You keep telling me it's almost time, but you never let me take them out! What are we waiting for?"

His wings ached and burned where they were attached, and Ari reached into his pocket for his pills. He downed four, dry, and turned back to his father.

"Be patient," said Jeb. "You know we need to stick to the plan." He looked up at Ari. "You're letting your emotions color your decisions. That isn't good, Ari. We've talked about this."

"Me!" Ari burst out. "What about you? You know the reason you can't off her? 'Cause you're all wrapped up in her! You love Max! You love Max best! That's why you won't let me kill her."

Jeb didn't say anything, just looked at him. Ari could tell Jeb was mad and trying not to show it. Just once, Ari wanted to see Jeb show the same love and admiration for him as he did for Max. When Jeb looked at Max, even pictures of Max, his face softened, his eyes grew more intent. When he looked at Ari, it was as if he were looking at anyone.

And Jeb hated the new Max, for some reason. He couldn't stand to be around her-everyone had noticed it. So Ari was making a big point of hanging out with her as much as possible. Anything to get under Jeb's skin, make him take notice.

Jeb finally spoke. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know the big picture. You have a part to play in this, but you have to do what I tell you. If you don't think you can do that, I'll find someone who can."

Rage ignited inside Ari. His hands gripped at his sides so he wouldn't reach out and grab Jeb's throat. He wanted to throttle the life out of him-almost. Just until Jeb realized he loved Ari and should respect him more.

But right now he had to get out of here. Ari spun and crashed out the door, letting it slam behind him. Outside, he took a running jump off the roof of the trailer-he still wasn't great at taking off right from the ground. Awkwardly and painfully, he flew high and headed for one of his favorite alone places-the top of a huge tree.

He landed clumsily on a branch and grabbed the trunk to hang on. Furious tears sprang to his eyes. Closing them, he leaned back against the smooth, mottled bark of his tree. It all hurt so much. His wings, how much Jeb loved Max, how Max looked right through Ari...

He remembered how she'd smiled at that pale twig last night when they were eating ice cream. Who was that guy? A nobody. A fragile little human. Ari could rip him in half without even trying.

A low growl rose in his throat as he remembered how Max had kissed that loser on the front porch. Max had kissed him! Like she was some normal girl! If that guy only knew-he wouldn't go near Max in a million years.

But maybe he would. Maybe he would love Max even if he knew she was a mutant freak. Max was special that way. People cared about her. Boys loved her. She was so strong-so strong and beautiful and fierce.

A choked sob burst out of Ari's chest. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he brought his arm up to his face, pressing his tears into his jacket.

Ari made another muffled sound against his sleeve, and then it all became too much. He felt himself morph full out into an Eraser, and his powerful jaws opened. Feeling his tears streaking through his fur, Ari stifled a sob and clamped his teeth down into his arm. He closed his eyes and hung on tight, making sure no sound escaped. He felt his teeth pierce his jacket, felt them scissor into his skin and muscle. He tasted blood, but he hung on.

Because actually, this felt better.

"I think that's it. I am freaking amazing. We found it." I peeped out from behind the yew shrub and looked across the street again. "No wonder you worship me."

Clearly I had snapped out of my malaise of the previous night. Let's keep those fourteen-year-old mutant-bird-kid hormone swings coming, eh?

Fang gave me a long-suffering and not very worshipful glance, then looked past me at the modest suburban brick house. It was dinky, old-fashioned, but, given how close it was to DC, probably worth almost half a million dollars. Note to self: Invest in DC real estate. Save up your allowance.

"Really? And that's the church in the background?"

I nodded. "Yep. So what now?"

He looked at me. "You're the leader."

I narrowed my eyes at him, then grabbed his shoulder and marched him across the street with me. I rang the bell before my annoying common sense could kick in.

We waited, and I heard footsteps coming to the door. Then it opened, and Fang and I were staring at the woman who may or may not but really looked like she could have been Iggy's mother.

"Yes?" she said, and she was-get this-drying her hands on a kitchen towel just like a mom. She was tall and slender, with very pale strawberry-blond hair, fair skin, and freckles. Her eyes were a light sky blue, like Iggy's, except of course hers actually worked because they hadn't been experimented on by mad scientists. Mad as in crazy, not as in anger-management classes.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Ma'am, we're selling subscriptions to the Wall Street Journal," Fang said with a straight face.

Her expression cleared. "Oh, no thanks. We already get the Post."

"Okay then," said Fang, and we turned and skedaddled right out of there.

She absolutely, positively, definitely might have been Iggy's mom. So what now?

"Still smells kind of like explosives," Iggy muttered to the Gasman.

The Gasman sniffed. "Yeah. I like that smell. Smells like excitement."

"God knows we could use more of that," Iggy said.

Gazzy's footsteps were almost silent on the hard concrete floor, but Iggy could follow him with no effort. Even without Gazzy, Iggy could have found his way to the file room by memory. He bet he could even find his way back to the Institute if you dropped him into a subway tunnel in New York. It almost made up for being completely without any kind of freaking sight at all.

Yeah, right.

"Here we go." Gazzy soundlessly opened the file room door, and Iggy heard the flick of the light switch. Now he got to stand around like a coatrack while Gazzy did all the work.

"She put those files someplace toward the front of the room," he reminded the Gasman. "On the right side. Is there a metal cabinet?"

"They're all metal," said Gazzy, moving over. He opened one, riffled some pages, then closed it. "I don't even know what I'm looking for. All the files look alike."

"None of 'em are marked Top Secret in big black letters?"

"No."

Iggy waited while the Gasman opened and riffled through and closed several more file drawers.

"Hey, wait a minute," Gazzy said. "Huh. This is something. It's a bunch of files lumped together with a rubber band. They're a different color, and they look older, beat-up."

"So read them."

The sound of the rubber band being pulled off. Pages rustling.

"Whoa."

"What?" This was the kind of thing that made Iggy crazy: other people getting all the info much sooner because they could see. He always had to wait to be told stuff. He hated it.

"These are files on, like, patients," said the Gasman. "Not students from this school. These are patients, and they're from the... Standish Home for Incurables."

"What is that? Sounds like a whole bunch of not-fun."

Gazzy read, and Iggy forced himself to be patient.

"Wait-," said Gazzy, and Iggy thought, Oh, like I have a lot of freaking choice.

"This is weird. I mean, as far as I can tell, this school used to be, like, an insane asylum, until maybe just two years ago. These files are on patients who used to live here. But why is the headhunter saving them?"

"Maybe he had something to do with them? Did he run the nuthouse? Maybe he was a patient and he killed all the others and opened this school-"