It didn't take long for the sledgehammer to break through the closet's interior wall. "It's just drywall," Kyle informed Liz as she paced across the room. "I missed the two-by-fours holding it up."
She came and stood in the closet doorway and watched white powder fly through the air. After a few more blows, Kyle stopped swinging the sledge and began to pull away chunks of plasterboard with his hands.
When he'd made a sizable hole, he crouched to peer through. "Do you see anything?" Liz demanded.
"Yeah," he shot back. "A whole lotta dark." Standing, he turned to her. "There's a flashlight in the duffel bag," he said. "Get it, will you?" A moment later he directed the beam through the opening.
"It's not very deep," he reported. "And it doesn't go back as far as the closet and bathroom do. Just big enough to store something.... Bingo."
"What?" asked Liz in excitement. "What is it?"
"Hold on," he answered before pulling some more drywall apart. "I need a bigger opening." Watching, Liz wished she had Maria's natural inclination to fidget, which might be able to distract her from the wait. It seemed like eons before Kyle cleared a large enough hole and reached in to grab whatever was stored inside.
And then without warning, he cried out. "It's got me!" Jerking forward as if being sucked inside, his arm disappeared into the wall up to his shoulder.
"What? Kyle? What happened? Kyle? Kyle?" shouted Liz, grabbing his other shoulder and shaking it in desperation.
His arm still buried inside the wall, he turned towards her and shot her a sly grin. "Just kidding," he drawled.
Her pulse racing erratically, Liz stared at him for one moment, unable to believe what he'd just done. Not with everything at stake. Then, her jaw firming, she smacked him smartly across the back of the head.
This time his cry was for real. "Ouch! Liz, I'm not a punching bag. God, you'd think you were Maria or something," he complained, which earned him another smack, this time on her friend's behalf. "Quit it."
"Don't joke around," Liz said sternly.
"Okay, okay. Sorry." Kyle pulled his arm out of the wall, clutching something in his hand. "Got it!"
Liz peered avidly over his shoulder. The item he held was a grayish cube about the height of a compact disc, and glistened with a metallic sheen. The cube was perfectly smooth on all sides. Only the corners were slightly rounded, as if its maker didn't want to prick his--her--its?--fingers on a sharp point. Reaching around Kyle, Liz took it from his hand. It was both heavier and lighter than she'd expected.
"So what is it?" asked Kyle, trying to see his reflection in the side.
"I don't know."
"Is it alien?"
Liz frowned thoughtfully. "I can't tell without testing--not that I have the right equipment for it--but it doesn't look like any metal I've seen before." Throwing caution to the wind, she grasped it firmly in both hands and shook it experimentally. She didn't hear anything, but she got the sense that something was inside, suspended in some thick gel-like liquid to keep it in place. "I think it's a box. There's something inside."
"How do we get it open?" asked Kyle. "I don't see a lock. Or even any hinges."
Liz ran her hands over the smooth sides. "I don't know. Maybe Max or Tess can do something with it." Cradling the cube, she asked, "Is that it, or is there anything else?"
Kyle immediately bent down to shine the flashlight into the hidden cubby. "Yeah," he said. "There's something else." A moment later, he was holding two small metal rectangles, each with patterns cut into it. It only took one glance for Liz to realize what they were.
"Get Max and Tess," she ordered, tucking the cube under her arm and taking the new find from him. As he headed down the hallway, she stared worriedly at the sheets of metal. Sheets that looked just like the pages from the mysterious alien book, the one that foretold Max's destiny.
* * * * *
"What do you mean, Isabel's missing?" demanded Maria.
"What do you think I mean? She's not here. Vanished. Poof--she's gone!" shot back an anxious Alex. Taking in her confusion, he pulled himself together enough to explain. "We came over here together. Michael called and left a message that you needed help, so--"
"He did?" she asked, momentarily diverted. "He actually called, even though he hasn't been speaking to anyone?"
"Yeah. You were in trouble, so he called," Alex answered. His voice rose. "Get over it, Maria, and concentrate on the fact that I can't find Isabel, okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, sorry," she said repentantly. "So what happened to her?"
"I don't know what happened to her!" he shouted. "That's the point!"
Maria moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, Alex. It's not going to help anyone if you lose it. Leave the freaking out to me, okay?" When he nodded, the clouds in his eyes clearing a little, she went on, "So where did you last see her?"
"We left the Jeep a few houses down the street. She was going to come to the front and pretend she'd come over for a study session or something, so she could scope things out. I headed around towards the back. I was the reinforcements."
There was a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of Maria's stomach. "When was this, Alex?"
"About twenty minutes ago, I guess. The Jeep's still there, but she's not."
"Alex," she said slowly, "Michael and Bob--the other alien--left about twenty minutes ago. Unless they beamed themselves out of the living room, they went out the front door."
Without needing any discussion, they both raced for it. "There's no sign of a struggle," Maria offered consolingly.
Alex didn't cheer up. "Why doesn't that make me feel better? Face it, Maria. She went with them."
"If she did, she had no choice, or she went to help Michael. Either way, he'll look out for her. She's family." She was, too, at least emotionally. Maria forbore to mention that Michael's real family member was there as well. "There's no problem. We find Michael, and we'll find Isabel. Easy."
She frowned, trying to determine their next move. "We just have to get Max, and the rest will work itself out. When you met this afternoon, what did you guys decide to do?"
"Isabel and I never made it. She had to come pick me up, since you didn't, and then we got distracted by Michael's message."
Maria didn't bother to act the least bit apologetic for stranding him. After all, it hadn't been her fault. Instead, her mind raced forward. "Well, did you call them?"
"Of course we did. You were in trouble, and we wanted to make sure you had all the help you could get. It didn't matter, though. They'd already left the Crashdown, and no one answered anywhere else."
"Do you think they went ahead to Tess's?"
"They might've," he admitted.
Maria headed towards the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, "We'll call there and see. They might need us, and we definitely need to tell them what's going on. We can head over there if they are."
"You can head where?"
Maria turned, realizing she'd completely forgotten about her mother, who had put away the kitchen chairs and was checking the lock on the back door. Well, there were still things Maria didn't feel ready to share. Her mother would not be pleased if she knew any more of what was going on, and Maria didn't want to have to deal with her over-protective maternal instinct. "We've run into a...a situation, Mom. Alex and I need to go take care of it."
"I don't think so," her mother replied. "What happened today--after that, do you think I'm ever going to let you out of my sight again?"
"I just was out of your sight," Maria reminded her.
"Don't get smart with me. You know what I mean."
So much for avoiding the maternal instinct. "Look, I need to take care of this. I have to help Michael."
"I don't want you anywhere near him."
"How can you say that?" Maria demanded. "After everything he did to try and keep us safe, how can you even say that?"
"Because he's dangerous! He has you convinced that he's an alien. An alien, Maria! Maybe he even believes it. And it almost got us killed!"
"Mom, he's in trouble but it isn't his fault--"
"Oh, it never is, is it?"
"He needs my help!"
"He needs help all right, but not yours. He needs a doctor. It doesn't matter; you're not going anywhere."
With an aggravated screech, Maria turned to Alex, who was watching with wide eyes. "Call Tess's house. See if they're there. We need to meet, and it looks like it's going to have to be here. Oh, and call Sheriff Valenti," she instructed, ignoring the startled look that appeared on her mother's face at the mention of the lawman. "Maybe he can talk some sense into her."
Alex nodded and reached for the phone. Grabbing her mother by the hand, Maria pulled her towards the living room. "You may as well sit down, Mom. There are some things I need to explain."
* * * * *
Tess stood in the kitchen, idly drumming her fingers on the all-too-clean countertop. She understood how Max felt; she positively itched with the need to be doing something. But it was safer all around for her to be where she was, watching. She just wished Kyle and Liz would hurry up. She had a feeling that something was very wrong, and that her brother was in the middle of it.
When the phone rang, it was almost a relief, just to have something to do. "Harding residence, Tess speaking," she said politely into the receiver, just as Nasedo had taught her. She was well aware that it wasn't considered wise in this day and age to announce herself before she knew who was calling, but Nasedo had picked up so-called human manners years before and ruthlessly drilled them into her head. No matter that they were dated. Besides, she had powers; she wasn't really in danger from answering the phone. So she did what her pretend father instructed. No need to rock the boat on this one.
She was rather surprised when the voice on the other end immediately identified itself as Alex. Surprise turned to shock as she listened to what he had to say. A few words on her part, and then she was racing out of the kitchen, calling at the top of her lungs. She didn't even bother to greet Kyle, who was starting down the stairs. "Liz! Max!" she yelled. "We have to go!"
* * * * *
When the four teenagers arrived at the DeLuca residence, Sheriff Valenti was already getting out of his cruiser. His hand moved to his gun belt at the screech of the convertible's tires, but he relaxed as Kyle pulled up crookedly behind him.
The Sheriff nodded to them, but, "Nice driving, Kyle," was his only comment.
His son shrugged it off. "Like you didn't do the same thing," he shot back knowingly. Liz guessed that he was right. There was no way the Sheriff could have gotten there so quickly, not unless he had ignored all the traffic regulations he was supposed to be enforcing.
Well, time was of the essence. Since it was, and since Liz had spent far too much time at Maria's house to trifle with trivialities like knocking on the door, she barged right in. The others followed closely behind her.
They found them in the living room. Alex sat on the couch, his head in his hands. Mrs. DeLuca also sat, a grim--and peculiarly maternal--expression on her face. Maria paced back and forth in front of them, her hair disheveled from raking her hands through it in frustration. Liz noted offhandedly that, at that moment, Maria's hairdo was a good match for Michael's spiked head.
"Thank god you're here," her friend burst out. "Michael's father tried to kill us but Michael kept him from doing it, and he took him, and Isabel's missing, and we think she went with them, and my mother won't believe that Michael's an alien!"
Several people spoke at once.
"Isabel is what--"
"Michael's father--"
"Are you all right--"
It was Liz who cut through the babble first. "You told your mother Michael's an alien?" she blurted over the room's hubbub, shocked that Maria would betray him this way.
"Of course not!" the blonde said indignantly. "I would never do that! He told her."
This completely floored all of them. Max moved closer. "Michael told your mother he was an alien?" he repeated softly. "Michael's never told anyone that."
"I know, but he did. At least, Bob said he was, and he admitted it," she tried to explain.
"Bob?"
The Sheriff broke in. "Why don't we all sit down so Maria can tell us what happened," he suggested. "Let's sort this all out calmly."
Without a word, Alex rose and gave his spot on the couch to Liz, joining Max on the floor. Leaning against the couch near Liz, Maria pulled her knees up and rested her flushed forehead on them.
From her perch next to Kyle, Tess turned to Maria and demanded, "How much does she know?"
Wearily, Maria answered. "She knows Michael's an alien, even if she won't believe it. She knows that there's another one--Bob--who was here, and that he wants Michael to kill his king."
Liz could feel the color drain from her face, but Max responded steadily, "It's all right. Michael won't do it."
Maria's mother sat straighter in her chair. "How do you know? According to the other man--not that I believe any of this--he's killed before."
Wary glances were exchanged between the teenagers. Sheriff Valenti looked her straight in the eye. "He has. And he saved my life doing it."
Her mouth opened, but she didn't seem able to speak. Finally, she managed a quavering, "J...Jim?"
"It's true, Amy," he answered. "I was about to be shot, and Max and the others would have been next. Michael stopped the man, and he died."
"The others?" Mrs. DeLuca asked in horrified suspicion. She looked at the teenagers. They nodded their agreement, all except Maria who, Liz noticed, didn't look up. "It...it was true? What has he dragged you all into?"
Rising to his feet, Max stood before her. "Michael didn't drag anyone into anything, Mrs. DeLuca. I did. It's my fault anyone found out about us."
She stared at the tall boy, who suddenly seemed much older than his age. "Us? But--but--" He nodded.
Maria let out what in happier circumstances might've been a small giggle. "Mom, meet King Max."
CHAPTER 24
Some time, several rather shaky explanations, and a few demonstrations of molecular manipulation later, Amy DeLuca was finally starting to believe--at least that aliens existed. As she said, it was harder for her to believe that nice, clean-cut kids like Max and Tess were actually 'not of this Earth', as Max put it. And that they'd lived this long with the secret, a small group of teenagers--children--hiding from the authorities, from adults in general. "And speaking of authorities--how long have you known about this, Jim?" she asked.
"About eight months. But I had my suspicions before then, particularly about Max," the Sheriff stated matter-of-factly.
Mrs. DeLuca took this in, then began to shake her head, unconsciously denying it. "You knew? You knew what was going on, and you--the Sheriff and a father--allowed these children to go rushing off into danger? My daughter, your son--all of them! They're children, Jim! They could've been killed!"
"Mrs. DeLuca, he didn't exactly allow us to go rushing into danger," Max began, taking responsibility. "We were already there. In fact, we pulled him into it. It's not his fault, it's mine."
"It is not your fault," she proclaimed. "You're no more an adult than the rest of them. You or your sister." She sucked in a deep breath. "Do your parents know?"
He shook his head. "It was always too risky to tell them."
"Risky? Why? They're your parents, Max. They love you, just like I love Maria and Jim loves Kyle." The Sheriff nodded, and a slightly embarrassed-looking Kyle glanced away with a shrug. "They'd understand."
Curled up on the floor by Liz's feet, Maria snorted. When she spoke, her voice was hard. "Why, Mom?"
"Why what?"
"Why would they understand? You didn't."
"Give me some credit, Maria. This whole thing took me by surprise. Who really believes it when they're told aliens exist?"
"I did," Maria said stubbornly. She conveniently left out the part where she'd run screaming at the news. She'd freaked out, sure. But she'd believed it.
"Maria, I've seen a little more of the world then you have. But still, it's not so easy to believe this sort of thing right off."
"She's right about that," Sheriff Valenti put in. "It took me a long time to believe that my father hadn't been crazy when he talked about aliens. And, to be honest, it took me even longer to believe that some aliens weren't any different than the rest of us, not when it comes to things that matter." He turned to Max, locking his eyes with the alien's. Max gave him a smile and a small nod.
"Thank you, Jim," Amy said in approval. "You see, Maria? Now I'm not saying it won't take a while for me to really grasp it all, but I do believe what Max tells me. I guess I have to."
Maria shook her head, still not satisfied. "Then why wouldn't you believe it when Michael told you? No, you had to say he was crazy, that he needed a doctor," she continued resentfully. "But Mr. and Mrs. Evans, they'll believe Max and Isabel right off, huh?"
"Maria, there's a difference."
The pent-up emotion of the evening, the fear and strain and worry Maria had been holding in burst out, blindly battering at its target. "Difference? Because Michael didn't have the luck to be adopted into a good home, he's automatically a liar? Crazy? Do you have any idea how hard it was for him to tell you? To tell anyone? God, he went through hell for us. He was branded for god's sake! You saw it happen. All to keep us safe, and you still wouldn't believe him. What did he ever do to you that--"
"It's what he did to you, Maria," her mother said sternly, managing to keep calm. It figured she would be acting all adult at a time like this. "I know how you feel about him, but he used you."
"What? He did not use me, Mom! He loves me!" protested Maria, whose denials were echoed by Liz and Max.
"I was there. He admitted he didn't care about you, and you already told me you'd broken up. I know it hurts, honey, but it's over. He made his choice." Amy crossed towards her. Crouching, she put her hand on Maria's shoulder.
"He didn't say that!" Maria shouted, jerking away.
Her mother spoke softly. "I heard him."
Maria's retort reached fever pitch. "You heard what he wanted Bob to hear," she cried out, looking blindly around the room for support. Liz squeezed her hand, and Maria tried to calm enough to make her mother see. "He called me 'Princess', Mom. He and I have a thing about nicknames; it was a signal!" She gave an almost hysterical laugh. "God, he's hurt me before. Do you think I can't tell the difference?"
"I think you're too mixed-up by what you're feeling to see the big picture," her mother answered honestly.
Surprisingly, out of all of them, it was Tess who got through. "You're wrong, Mrs. DeLuca. Michael may be doing or saying some strange things, but there's no doubt how he feels about Maria." The older woman looked at her doubtfully. Tess explained, "I don't know him very well--not as well as I want to--but it's so obvious. Well, he does try to hide it like he hides everything else," she admitted, "but anyone who'd take the least bit of effort to look beyond the surface could see it."
"See? I'm not making this up," said Maria as she rose with determination. "So you're not going to stop me from helping him."
She looked around once more for a show of support. The other teenagers, except for Kyle, were looking in curiosity or surprise at Tess. The alien shrugged. "What? I should know my own brother, shouldn't I?"
Hearing this, Maria clapped a hand to her head. "Oh my god! Tess!" she blurted. "If Michael is your brother and Bob is his father, then he's probably your father, too!"
Tess stopped stock-still. Her mouth opened, but she didn't say anything, just blinked a bit. Maria was reminded--rather painfully--of her ex-boyfriend. That impression didn't last long, however, because a sparkling expression of excitement that she'd never seen on Michael's face grew on Tess's. "You're right," the alien said, a light in her eye. The light disappeared rather quickly, however, and Maria couldn't blame her. It would mean that Tess's father wanted her brother to kill her destined husband. That was very wrong. Well, the whole situation was wrong, but the position it put Tess in really sucked. Maria felt an unexpected welling up of sympathy, but before she could say anything else, her mother grabbed her arm and her attention.
"You are not leaving this house, young lady!" she said sternly.
Maria let out a frustrated scream. "Why won't you let me help him? You were the one who got his suspension revoked. Why is it okay for you to help and not me?"
"That was before I knew what was going on! Maria, this situation is dangerous," her mother protested. "One man is already dead. What if you're next?"
"Then you can put in another call to that detective friend of yours. Make do with your brother!" Maria stopped, a little shocked at the bitterness in her own voice. In front of her, her mother paled.
"Maria, I--"
A shake of Maria's head cut her off. "No, Mom." She spoke quietly, but somehow she had everyone's attention. "You're making me choose between you and Michael. It's funny--Michael would never do that to me. Guess that says something about love, huh?" She let out a bitter little laugh. "Well, if I have to make that choice, I'll make it. Anyone who wants to help figure out what we do next, come to my room." Heading towards the hall, she stopped as her mother spoke.
"Maria, what are you going to do?"
Maria didn't turn back as she answered, "I don't know. I'll let you know when I've made my choice." Then she stalked out of the room. Five teenagers unhesitatingly followed in her wake, leaving the two adults behind them.
* * * * *
Groggily swimming into consciousness, Michael came to the rather familiar realization that he was on the floor. He'd spent too much time on floors not to recognize one when he felt one. But this particular floor was too hard to be Max's bedroom. Hell, it was even harder than the floor of Hank's trailer, and the flimsy and discolored carpet there hadn't provided much padding. Those were the two floors he'd spent the most time on, and it wasn't either of them, so where was he and how did he get wherever he was?
He finally managed to pry one eye open only to find a splotch of pale gray color just an inch or so away. He was still enough out of it that it took him a moment to put the sight and the feeling together, but he finally drew the conclusion that he was sprawled face down on dirty concrete. Between his dizziness and his disorientation, it took several more minutes for him to push himself up on his hands. He had to keep stopping whenever his head swam. But finally he was able to maneuver into a sitting position and look around in the dim light. Sure enough, he was sitting on a concrete floor. And the only other thing in the small room was a twin-sized bed upon which rested a rather familiar--and somewhat more neatly arranged--figure.
Isabel.
A gentle shake didn't rouse her, nor did softly calling her name; but his fingers quickly found a pulse in her neck. It seemed rather slow, especially when he tested out his own for comparison. Not that he'd know what was normal. Maybe the fact that she was out like a light while he was feeling uncomfortably close to panic made the difference.
Stumbling to his feet, he headed woozily over to the door and tested it, bruising his knuckles as he punched it in frustration. It was locked, but there was a light switch on the wall. Trying it, he blinked at the sudden glare of light and looked around.
He and Isabel were in a small room, with disintegrating wallpaper and a dingy ceiling. In addition to the door he stood near, there were two others; upon investigation, these proved to be a closet and a small, minimally equipped bathroom.
A movement to the side caught his attention, and he spun around, coming face to face with his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Not a particularly vain person--in fact, habitually lackadaisical in appearance--Michael had never spent much time in front of mirrors. He was stuck with what he was, and without Isabel and Max's manipulation powers, he couldn't do much to change his appearance, even if he'd cared enough to.
At that moment, though, he wished he could. It wasn't the disarray of his hair--he was used to that--or the dark circles under his eyes, or the set of his grim mouth that bothered him. It was the mark on his cheek. Gingerly, he reached up to touch it. He didn't feel anything but normal, ordinary skin, but the lines were incised blackly into his flesh. Something about the symbol felt wrong, as if he were on the brink of being able to read it but that what it said was somehow warped and twisted.
He wanted it gone.
Unable to bear looking at it any more, he turned abruptly and stumbled back through the doorway into the main room. The layout wasn't all that different from what he might've expected in a run-down motel, but he assumed such an establishment would have more furniture than a single bed. Even the pay-by-the-hour motel he and Maria had slept in during the trip to Marathon had boated more furniture than this. Not that it had made any difference to him; he'd slept on the floor then too.
After unsuccessfully testing the door--for a second time--he gave up and sank down against a brown and gold-covered wall. Putting his head in his hands, he tried to think.
There was no doubt in his mind that, wherever this was, Bob had brought them here. They'd been on the verge of leaving Maria's when they'd run into Isabel. Michael hadn't had a chance to say or do anything before Bob had struck her on the head and she collapsed. He'd barely been able to catch her before she hit the ground.
Bob had resorted once more to threats, and, both figuratively and literally powerless, Michael had reluctantly carried her down the street to a nondescript late-model sedan that sat at the curb. It had grown dark by then, and the intervening street lamps had burnt out. Burnt out, or been put out? Either way, no one had seen them. Isabel was neatly stashed in the back seat, but Michael was not permitted to sit next to her. Instead, he was ordered to ride shotgun. He wasn't sure why; he wasn't exactly going to be pleasant traveling company.
But Bob evidently wasn't interested in conversation. The last thing Michael could remember between fastening his seat belt and waking up dumped in this room was his father pulling out a syringe and jabbing it right through his jacket and into his arm. After that, nothing. Michael had no idea how far they'd traveled, or what time or even what day it was. Or if the other alien had had help to get the two unconscious teenagers inside, whenever they'd arrived wherever they were.
Raising his hand, he rubbed blearily at his eyes. Whatever Bob had injected him with was taking its time to wear off completely. He would find it fairly easy to give in and sink back into a drug-induced stupor, if he didn't watch out.
A movement and a mumble from the bed brought him to his feet again. "Izzy?" he asked softly as he crossed over to her. Her eyelids fluttered a few times before she woke completely. One hand rose to her temple, and her eyes opened.
She looked around for a few moments, taking in her surroundings, before her eyes came to rest on Michael's face. She didn't say anything, just looked at him.
"Isabel?" he asked again. "Are you okay?"
He moved toward her, his hand out, only to be cut off by a sharp, "Don't touch me!"
Stopping where he was, he dropped his hand to his side, but didn't back down. "Look, I know you probably hate me right now, but I just want to make sure you're all right, okay?"
She stared at him through icy eyes. He couldn't control the inward shiver that ran through him. She'd never looked at him like that before. He knew he'd screwed things up between them with his own stupid actions, but still, some part of him had held on to the idea that he hadn't lost her or Max for good, that deep down they'd always be there for each other.
Now he wasn't so sure.
"How's your head?" he asked once more, then sighed as she refused to answer.
Moving to a wall, he slid down it into a sitting position and dropped his head into his hands. As his brain cleared, it began to ache. Or maybe it had always hurt, but whatever he'd been drugged up with had masked the pain for a while. He sat there for a while, trying to decide what to do. The last bunch of decisions he'd made hadn't turned out so well.... Finally, without lifting his head from his hands, he began to speak.
"The guy who slugged you--he's my father. He wants me to kill Max," he stated baldly.
Isabel didn't respond, but he got the sense that she was listening. So he continued. "He doesn't know who Max is, though. And he doesn't know who you are. So we gotta pretend you're human. Then there's a chance we can keep you safe." A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I know you didn't do it for me, but I still gotta say thanks. For coming over to help Maria. I'm just sorry it got you into this mess."
Isabel spoke, her voice sounding strained. "Is she all right?"
A hint of relief crept into Michael's voice. "I think so, yeah. He made me tie them up, but I slipped Mrs. DeLuca my pocketknife."
There was silence for a space. Finally, she spoke again. "Why did he want her?"
"He didn't. He thought he was tracking me. But he wanted to use Maria as a hostage, and I couldn't let that happen." He stared down at his hands. "He said he could read my mind. That we had some sort of family bond. He knew what I was thinking."
This didn't seem to startle her as much as he might have thought. But maybe she and Max shared that kind of bond, and had never mentioned it to spare his feelings. Michael grimaced. "It didn't matter, anyway."
Isabel sat up on the bed and looked directly at him. "Why? What did you do?"
"Built a wall in my mind and blocked him out," he said shortly.
This bit of news did startle her. "You...you blocked him?" she asked in some astonishment.
"Yeah," he admitted.
"How did you know how to do that?"
"I don't know how. I just tried it and it worked okay for once." Here his face darkened. "I had to keep him from realizing how much I--how important Maria is. So I...I kinda made him think you were more important."
Silence.
"You remember those dreams we had last year, the ones Tess gave us? About you and me? Where we...uh, well, anyway, I just thought about them. Pictured them in my mind. I let him see them so he'd think Maria wasn't important, that you were."
"And he bought it?"
"Yeah, once I told Maria to her face that she didn't mean anything, that I was just using her for sex, right in front of him. She slapped me," he added, remembering.
Isabel's voice rose to a screech. "You've had sex with her?"
Michael bridled. "No," he said defensively. "Not that it's any business of yours, Isabel, got that?"
"Of course it's my business!" she declared. "Are you considering it?"
Considering it? Alien hybrid or not, he was a guy, wasn't he? Sometimes it was all he could think about. Michael frowned. "I'm not gonna discuss this with you, Iz. It's too weird."
She pouted a bit, in her usual 'didn't get her own way' manner, but he didn't give in.
"Anyway, that's all I know. So you can go back to hating me now, okay?" he growled.
She hesitated for a moment, then said, "Why would I hate you, Michael?"
For the first time in his life, Michael briefly considered the possibility that Isabel wasn't all that bright. "Because I was a complete asshole to everyone all week? Because I forcibly shoved all of you out of my life? Because I got you kidnapped? Take your pick."
"So why were you being an asshole?" she asked, not denying that he had been. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," he said with some bravado, then deflated at her knowing look. "Nothing important," he amended.
"I don't believe you," she said. "Tell me, Michael."
His jaw set. "I can't," he said bluntly.
"Why not?" she returned, refusing to back down.
"I can't tell you that either."
"Why not, Michael?"
"Because I can't. I was stupid, but.... Just forget it, Iz. I can't tell you."
"This is me, Michael. Not some stranger on the street. We're...we're family."
"I know that! Just drop it, Isabel, okay?" She didn't seem willing to do so, but Michael forged onward. "Look, let's just move on, okay? Figure out how to get you out of here without letting on who you are."
"Michael--" she chided.
He was firm. "No. Our priority here is getting you out. Then I'll worry about Bob."
"Bob?"
"The other alien...my father," he explained, hating the feel of that last word in his mouth. He took in the tension in her eyes. "Don't worry, Isabel. I'm not going to hurt Max. And I'm not going to let my father do it either."
Michael--"
"No. Look, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I promise you this. I'm not letting anything happen to him," he vowed intensely.
She stared at him for a moment, her mouth slightly open in surprise. Then her eyes narrowed as if taking his measure. She spoke again, slowly, in total seriousness. "I believe you."
Almost as surprised as she was, Michael nodded. "So," he said in an attempt to hide his relief, "let's figure out how to get you out of here, okay?"
"Then what are you going to do?"
His voice grew grim. "Whatever I have to."
TBC...
continue to chapters 25 and 26
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