NGEL STARED at the heart monitor in horror. A minute ago, its fast, even spikes had showed Fang’s normal heart rate of a 140 beats per minute. Now it was a flat line.

Fang lay still on the bed, his good eye slightly open. Angel grabbed his hand.

“Fang! Fang! Wake up!”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen!” said Dr. Hans, looking upset. “This drug has been tested on many subjects!”

“But were they normal, to begin with?”

“Yes, mostly… .” Dr. Hans trailed off.

The drone of Fang’s monitor filled Angel’s head. She smacked her hand down on Fang’s bed, hard. “Do something!” she yelled at Dr. Hans. “You promised me he wouldn’t get hurt! You promised! Do something!”

“It’s too late!” said Dr. Hans. “What can I do?”

Whirling, Angel scanned the lab for a phone but spotted nothing. She sped out of the room and leaped up the steps. Still nothing. She raced outside onto the terrace, and once there, closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and pressed her fingers to her temples. Max, come, she thought as hard as she could. Come here now. Fang needs your help. Come now!

Her eyes popped open and she started scanning the sky, though she knew there was no way Max could be there yet. She didn’t even know if Max had heard her — she’d never tried to send a message that far before. There wasn’t time for her to fly to the safe house to get Max. All she could do was send thought messages.

Even though it was already too late.