ERE ARE ALL the flies in my ointment:

1) The phrase “fly in the ointment.” Like, yuck. Who came up with that?

2) We were on a private jet loaned to us by our old pal Nino Pierpont, aka the richest guy in the world. Technically, I wasbeing flown to Hawaii.

3) I was not busting heads, taking names, or shaking anyone down for information.

4) Dr. Stupendous was still with us and still had red hair.

5) Nudge was still gone.

6) My mom was still kidnapped.

7) Fang was still Fang.

Dr. John Abate sat down next to where I was reclined in the schmancy leather chair, unsuccessfully trying to sleep. Not too long ago, I was bunking down on a concrete ledge in an abandoned subway tunnel. Now, here I was on a private jet, in the lap of luxury, covered by a cozy mohair throw… and, basically, I

felt like my life sucked pretty much the same as always.

The main difference being that when I was on the concrete ledge, I actually got some sleep. And my whole flock was together. And I didn’t even have a mom. Much less one I cared about. Much less one I cared about and who then got kidnapped, introducing countless new opportunities for pain.

I opened one eye. “Are we planning to dive-bomb the submarine? Is this plane equipped with marine missiles?”

John smiled weakly. “No. It’s taking us to another U.S. Navy base, in Hawaii. The navy has agreed to help us get Valencia back.”

“Has the CSM agreed to back off big companies?” I asked. Which might make Mr. Chu release my mom, as he promised.

John looked troubled. “No. We’ve been in discussions ever since we learned of Valencia’s disappearance. We feel that Valencia would never forgive us if she found out they had made us cave. Especially over her. She’s one of the founding members of the CSM and one of its most ardent supporters. To have it be dissolved over this—I just think she would hate it.”

I thought for a minute. “You’re probably right,” I finally said, reluctantly.

“John?” Gazzy had his face pressed against a window.

“Yes?”

“What would happen if a big bird, like a goose, flew into the jet engine?”

Leave it to Gazzy.

“It would probably be very bad,” said John.

“What would happen if someone hummed a football into the engine, right when the plane was taking off?” Gazzy looked thoughtful.

“Is there a point to this line of questioning?” John asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Just wondering,” Gazzy said, his blue eyes innocent.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I actually miss Nudge’s run-on mouth,” said Iggy, completely changing the topic.

“I miss her smile,” said Angel, looking up for a minute from where she was playing cards with Brigid. Brigid, thankfully, was smart enough not to play poker with Angel anymore.

“I miss her brownness,” said Iggy, gazing sightlessly out the window.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” I said brusquely, trying to ignore the ache in my heart. “She made her choice.”

“I miss her laugh,” said Gazzy. “And, like, her, I don’t know, girliness.”

Yeah, we all know how lacking I am in that department. Compared to Nudge, I’m completely hopeless. And compared to Brigid, I’m—one of those body bags in boxing or something.

Just then Fang came over and sat next to me. John smiled at him and got up to go sit with Brigid and Angel.

Fang reclined his seat. After giving the cabin a casual glance, he slipped his hand under my blanket, finding my hand and holding it. I felt my cheeks reddening and hoped no one would notice.

“This sucks, about your mom,” he said, his voice so low only I could hear it. I nodded, feeling the strength in his hand, the muscles and tendons, the bones, the calluses and scars. “And Nudge,” he went on. I nodded again, mutely remembering that night out in the desert with Fang and then coming home to find disaster and chaos. And the next morning, Nudge leaving the flock. Suddenly my throat felt tight, and my eyelids were heavy. I closed them.

“I’m here.” His voice was so soft, I wasn’t even sure I’d heard it. But I had.

And there, with nine words, Fang had summed up everything I was thinking, everything I was feeling, everything in my past and my future.

He’s your soulmate.

My eyes shot open. Voice? Are you back?