Evil Angel

Author's Note:

This takes place before the first MR book, right where it would have started. There are quite a few differences. Max was never a part of the Flock, but they escaped together in the same way, just without max. Everything is the same – save for Max never being with them. You'll see! Enjoy!

Chapter One

Max's POV

I was born to kill.

Everything about me and within me was created for that single purpose – my hawk vision eyes, stream lined body for flight, the fighting skills that no fourteen year old should have had.

Oh, and the wings. Those helped too, a tremendous amount, actually. Aerial attacks are simply amazing and are the bomb.

I was created to be their assassin, their best assassin. To kill any and all experiments that got out of hand. And I was the best. They'd accept no less than the best, from me or anybody else.

They are the School – the School that was and is my birthplace and home, the ones that I killed for. I had plenty of kills under my belt, too. Much more than your average fourteen year old assassin. It's like a good grade for some normal child- makes you proud and makes daddy happy, makes your seven year old twerp of a brother (AKA Ari) insanely jealous. Killing's a win-win, save for the guy who loses.

Missions – missions to kill – were the only time that I got out of the school and out into the fresh air, so I looked forward to them. At least I didn't have to stay in cages like the others. 'Cause of who my Dad was, I got to roam free. I'd seen other flying kids in cages, and it'd looked miserable. Fortunately for them, they'd pulled a disappearing act a few years back, right along the same time that Jeb – my father – had left on a prolonged business trip.

He'd only come back two years ago, and when he had, his first notion had been to make Ari into an Eraser- stinking wolf men who also worked as Assassins for the School.

Yeah, he definitely got the short end of the mutant stick.

Fortunately, Dad's never made us work as some kind of sibling duo assassin team, or else I'd have murdered someone I wasn't assigned to a long time ago.

Speaking of assignments and murders,

Location: airborne over Colorado

Time: 12:04 PM

Weather: Sunny. And I forgot my sunscreen. Great. Great, great, great.

Mission: Kill five subjects in a home based in the mountains of Colorado. Not armed, but highly skilled in fighting and martial arts.

And, that was my mission. I learn nothing else about them – no ages, names, or general hobbies/life aspirations. Just the important, could-get-you-killed stuff.

It's easier that way.

I can start to see the mountains in front of me now, green and sharp. I've never seen mountains before this. It's not like assassins have time to stop and smell the roses, exactly. It's kind of just get the job done and get out of there.

I wasn't worried about the fight being five against one – I've fought seven against one before. That was an interesting fight – all full grown adults, five men, one women and an Eraser gone rogue. It happens. Their particular case?The humans had taken in the Eraser that had betrayed the School. I'd been sent after them.

And that was the end of that particular story.

So, no – even with their special martial arts skills, I wasn't worried. It was only five this time. Besides, I was pretty sure that I could take down Jackie Chan, at this point. I've been killing since I was only six, after all.

I flew over the mountains, watched them speed below me. I'm not a particularly poetic person – imagine the poetry I would write – but heck, the mountains were pretty. All trees and green and dirt.

That's my poetry for you.

I needed some place to land and breathe for a moment before I went to do my job. I needed to collect myself. Trust me, you can't just go out there and kill someone without collecting yourself first.

Yeah, I know – wise cracks about killing. But if I didn't think of it as trivial, I would have gone insane some time ago. I don't think that I can count the number any longer.


I found a clearing in the trees ahead. It was close enough to the house that I could deduct the time that I had and plan strategies, and it wasn't too big, either – just big enough for me to land in. I swooped towards it, angling myself in the windows that nobody in the house could see me, either. There's a thick strawberry patch off to one side, the side that's closest to the house. Besides from the sky, it's the only entrance to the field – it's as if whoever lived here made a path.

I'd never tasted strawberries, you know. I've heard wonderful things about them. Perhaps I'd taste one today. It couldn't hurt.

Almost directly over the clearing now, I tucked in my wings slightly, letting myself fall through the air, dive bombing towards the space between the trees. I loved this feeling – wind through my hair and feathers, nothing but you and the sky and the ground rushing at your face at a speed that could kill you.

Yeah, I told you that I wasn't poetic.

I landed gracefully, my wings spanning above me. I let them cool for a moment before folding them in and letting them settle gently against my back. I ruffled the feathers, and tilted my face towards the sun. Ah, the outdoors. The antiseptic smell can get real lousy after awhile, in case anybody was wondering.

Sticking to my plan to eat a strawberry, I started towards the patch. I'd get my weaponry out of my pack and attach it after I'd had that snack.

Unfortunately for my face, I never got the chance.