The way that the people surrounded me, I knew I was making it out of here. Just maybe not in one piece.

"Freeze, Pixie!" I rolled my eyes, smiling devilishly.

"Really, Mars, I think we're past you calling me by my code name," I purred, waving a hand airily.

"That's Agent Mars to you, Maxence."

"And that's more like it," I said, turning around to face him. I could feel the wind on the back of my neck, letting me know how close to the edge of the roof I was. I placed my hand on my leather-clad hip, popping it to the side sassily.

"Based on how you've chased me around the city for four months, Mars, I should think that you have a little crush on me," I giggled, straining my ears for the signal. Mars' other agents still had their automatics pointed at my chest, so I didn't make any sudden movements.

"Like hell I do," Mars growled, his deep voice echoing on the concrete rooftop. "Now, are you going to do this quietly?"

"Well," I stalled. Marcos, I need a signal today, please. "That depends on your definition of quiet. I might walk out here singing Frozen." 

A faint sound of breaking glass came from behind me. Finally.

"Gentlemen, and Agent Mars," I announced, hopping backward to the very edge of the rooftop. The FBI agents all clicked off their safeties, aiming now at my head. "It's been a real slice of Heaven. But unfortunately," I winked, "I must scoot. Ciao!"

And with that, I let myself fall.

This was always the most exhilarating part of my job: free-falling through the air for two seconds, watching the glass windows whizz by one by one. All I can feel is wind and cold, surrounding my body like a highly dangerous cocoon. I closed my eyes momentarily, and I can almost imagine Adam falling with me, his lips curled up in that smile of pure joy that always gave me flappy insects in the stomach area.

But then Marcos had to ruin things by jumping out of the window in front of me to save my life.

His body slammed into mine with a long Spanish curse word, the both of us suddenly yanked up by the cord that was attached to Marcos' waist. For a moment we hung there, Marcos' arms curled firmly around my waist.

"Hey, girl!" I said happily. He hit me on the head.

"I ought to... ay pues, tan tonto. Primero, no soy una niña. Segundo, te debería dejar caer. ¿Sabes que? Voy a darte con me chancla. Deja que me lo quite..espera un segundo!" 

He rants in Spanish like this a lot. I'm pretty used to it by now.

The line slowly moved up, and I was soon being hauled into the window by Winnie (the second member of my team), who fluttered around me, checking for injuries like the mom-friend he was. Manticore (the final member of my team) sat on the ground nearby, fiddling with a Rubik's Cube.

I stood up and brushed myself off, undoing the rather uncomfortable leather wedgie that had been bestowed upon me. Winnie gave me a hug, muttering in Spanish under his breath. He sighed.

"You okay, Max?"

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Pu-lease, darling. I've been training in Myth since I was tiny. I'm pretty sure that I can jump off a building. That was like," I dramatically waved my hand, hitting Manticore, who made a noise of protest. "Level 2 stuff."

"Just making sure," Winnie mumbled. "Jeez."

Manticore checked his watch. "Vale, we gotta go as soon as possible, guys," he announced, gathering his backpack and walking out the door to the stairwell.

I waited for Winnie and Marcos as they gathered the equipment, occasionally exchanging flirtatious glances and subtle touches. I fiddled with the initiation ring on my right middle finger. It was a simple silver band, with fairy wings engraved on the sides. I received it after Year 11 training in Myth.

Myth recruiters came when I was only eight. They took me along with Manticore, Marcos, and Winnie, when we were all living in the same foster home. We trained for eleven years, learning to become the best spies in America. When we graduated, we got our rings and our agent names. Marcos is Chimera, Manticore won't tell us his real name, Leo VERY ENTHUSIASTICALLY volunteered to be Unicorn, and I was labeled as Pixie. We've been going on missions for a year now.

My boyfriend, Adam, used to be part of our group.

That was before he was captured by Lyric, the rival team.

"Max! Get your head out of the clouds, we're gonna get caught if you don't hurry! ¡Voy a sacar la correa!"
I rolled my eyes.

"Marcos, I was poetically thinking!" I pouted. "You've ruined it!" Marcos squinted at me.

"Like I care. Get your butt into gear." I made a gesture.



These hotels that we have to stay in are absolutely horrendous. The bed sheets are scratchy, the people are rude, and it's just overall unpleasant to share a room with Marcos, especially when he constantly grumbles about how he would rather stay with Winnie.

I can still hear him griping as I jam a pillow over my head in an attempt to shut out his constant blather. My thoughts shifted to four weeks ago, when I built a pillow fort with Adam. The two of us stayed up until I was nodding off on his shoulder as we watched Moana. When he thought I was asleep, he brought a ring box out of his pocket.

"I was going to give this promise ring to you, baby. But you look too cute sleeping," he whispered into my hair. He then carried me up to bed, tucking me in and somehow not noticing the blindingly large grin on my face. He left the ring box on the bedside table.

The next morning, he was gone.

Something cold and wet dripped down my cheek. I should stop thinking about this. I knew it would only get worse as time went on. 

Just as I was nodding off to sleep, I heard a knock on the door, frantic and rapid. I sprang up out of bed, carefully clicking the safety off of the pistol that I always slept with. I threw open the door to reveal Winnie and Manticore. They were both in tears.

"Good god, you two, what happened?!" I gaped at their trembling demeanors.

Winnie shoved a picture into my hand, sobbing too hard to form words. I squinted at the paper.

I could feel my heart drop out of my body. All the color drained from my face, and all I heard was white noise, buzzing in my ears.

I threw down the photo of him. I couldn't look. It wasn't true.

My boyfriend's body couldn't be lying against a wall, throat slit and covered in blood.