"Int the part about the Order�true,�though," Hawk said, looking up finally, brow knit.

"No--"

"Int they a bunch of human-killin' terrorists?"

"No,�they damn well�AREN'T," Teige snapped.

"No?" Hawk repeated, voice rising, but only just. "Then who killed my brother? What the�hell�happened to my sister?"

The silence that came after was brief, but stretched taut and thin. Teige's expression fought between anger and horrified confusion.

"Y--" he spluttered, and his face settled into uncharacteristic anxiety. "You ent serious. You can't be."

Hawk couldn't help grinding his teeth at that. "I woke up with a chunk of car door soldered to my�arm," he snarled. "I found my brother missin' part of his�throat. An' all I remember is Liya screamin' and fightin', and lots of red coats.�I'm serious."

Teige gawped for a moment, then leaned back. "...There's some mistake, then," he mumbled, frowning deeply.

Hawk was on his feet before he knew it, wings half unfurling, fists clenched.