CHAPTER 21

"Uh uh uh," came a mocking voice from beside him. "A little something you evidently don't know about, boy. Where we come from, blood is very strong. Family connections and all. Get me near enough and I can read you."

If Michael had been moving, he would have stopped dead in his tracks. "You can what?" The words burst out of him before he made a conscious decision to speak.

"Read you. See inside your mind, know what you're thinking. We have a bond, boy. Your human side corrupts it, but it's there. Not as strong as the sib-bond or pair-bond, but a connection nonetheless. How do you think I was able to find you?"

"You...you said you'd followed the power-cell crystal," Michael blurted. Meanwhile his mind was trying to make sense of the unfamiliar. Sib-bond? Pair-bond? What the hell?

"Only as a beacon of sorts. It was still you I was focused on, a certain familiar resonance. The crystal enhanced that connection; it didn't create it." Michael's confusion must have been very clear; Bob cocked his head mockingly. "You don't remember a darn thing about our planet, do you?"

Refusing to give him any satisfaction, Michael gave an insolent shrug. The other alien narrowed his eyes.

"Just remember this: you can't hide anything from me. Any time I want to, I can see what's going on in that thick head of yours." A knowing smirk appeared on Bob's face. "In fact, while I was rummaging around, trying to jump-start your more useful instincts, I saw exactly what you were thinking. I know all about your ridiculous little scheme to get rid of me. Really, boy, now what kind of father would I be to allow you to play the martyr? I'm afraid that wouldn't do at all."

He knew? Fuck. Wasn't one stupid plan of his ever going to work?

Michael tensed as Bob turned to the DeLucas, but the other alien didn't seem to be threatening them at this particular moment; instead he addressed them in a wry tone. "My rather backward descendant has decided to steal your car and blow it up with the two of us inside it, thereby saving this world from the evil aliens," he added with a mock shudder. "Such a selfless and heroic act, don't you think? One for the annals. But then, it runs in his family, doesn't it?"

His family? Michael pounced on that statement. "What do you mean?" he demanded roughly. Surely there was someone a little more...sane...in his family, somebody other than a maniacal father and a dead sister. What about other brothers and sisters? And what about a mother? Unless his species reproduced in some weird way, he had to have a mother, right? Someone who would feel about him the way Mrs. DeLuca felt about Maria--

Maria. He was letting himself be distracted from the situation at hand. Her safety, and her mother's, was more important right now.... Shaking off his hunger to know more, he crossed his arms over his chest and moved back to his position in front of the two women. He wouldn't let himself get distracted again.

Bob didn't seem altogether pleased with this showing. "History lessons later," he countered. His voice grew colder. "I'm disappointed in you, boy. You should have come further than this by now."

Huh. For once his lack of achievement did him some good, if only to piss Bob off. Too bad it didn't keep the other alien from reading his thoughts. If only it had, his plan might've gone undiscovered. They'd be out of there by now, and Maria and Mrs. DeLuca would be safe. But they weren't, because he couldn't keep Bob out of his brain. Dammit! Where were his stone walls when he needed them?

Wait a minute.

His stone walls were never real--at least not in the physical sense. They were just a front he put up to keep himself from caring too much, to distance himself from being too human. From letting people in. Sure, he'd fooled people with them--even himself. But there were no bricks and mortar, nothing tangible.

But even though they weren't real, they were pretty effective. They'd lasted a good ten years before Maria started worming her way through the cracks. Mental walls, but they worked. And then there was another wall, the one he'd created in his mind. He'd accidentally imprisoned himself behind it, unable to deal with the dreams and voices he'd been hearing. He'd gotten stuck there--or at least part of him had--and he couldn't get out, even though he'd created it in the first place.

So if he could create a mental wall he couldn't get through, maybe he could create one no one else could get through, either. Maybe he could keep Bob out.

Except he had no idea how to do it. He hadn't done it on purpose the first time. Plus, giant plant puppets aside, he'd never been very good at building things. And those were due to physical effort, not mental. He was better at destruction than construction.

He had nothing to lose by trying, though. Maybe he could fake himself into doing it. Do some New Age visualization thing and hope that it worked. Imagine the wall, see the wall...be the wall...build the wall. Crap like that. But if he could bring himself to believe in it, maybe it would be real. Or real enough.

If he believed in it. He, who'd never willingly believed in anything. Yeah. This was really gonna work.

Closing his eyes, he pictured his empty hands, held palm-up in front of him. Big and clumsy, lacking the grace of Isabel's and Max's tapered fingers. Just his hands. Ordinary looking, even with the two silver bands he wore. But hands that had held a paintbrush, a pencil, and interpreted the pictures in his head into something real. Hands that had held Maria.

Hands that had taken a life, and by doing so, had saved one.

Hands that just might be able to accomplish something else, right here; that might help him save two more.

Okay. Time to stop fixating on what his hands could or couldn't do, and build the damn wall already. He just needed something to build it from, the stone of his imaginary stone wall. And suddenly something was in his hands, rough and solid. He looked down but couldn't see anything on his outstretched palms, even though he could feel its heft and texture. Well, it was an imaginary stone. Why be surprised he couldn't see it? But still, he felt stupid as he imagined bending down and placing the invisible stone or block or brick, or whatever it was, on the ground. Ground that was no longer the colorful rug from Mrs. DeLuca's living room, but flat and gray, stretching out endlessly in all directions. And as it touched the floor, the stone became as solid to the eye as it was to the touch.

He pictured a second, similar stone then, stacked upon the first. And there it was, growing visible; edges blurring, melting together to become one, solid. Then a third, fusing itself to the other two, then another, and another.... In his imagination, the wall rose quickly, reaching into the sky far above his head, spreading out to surround him. And as stone melded with stone, the wall took on a metallic sheen. Not quite the same as the circular room he'd imprisoned himself in, but similar somehow.

As the two ends of the wall began curving together to meet, Michael was relieved that the final few stones stayed separate, their edges still clear. The last time he'd been in something like this, he couldn't get himself out. So this time he had an escape route, just in case. A few unmelded stones as a fail-safe. If he got stuck inside, maybe Maria would be able to get him out. She'd always been the only one who could do anything with those stone walls of his anyway; hopefully this one would be no different.

If only it worked. It wasn't like there was going to be an actual, physical wall around him or anything. He wouldn't necessarily be able to tell if his efforts had paid off. He could only hope.

Opening his eyes, Michael found that creating his imaginary wall had only taken a second or two; Bob was still scolding. He looked at Michael, taking in his grim expression with superiority. "Obviously we'll have to do a little more work to prepare you. Work that can be better done elsewhere."

Michael's heart lurched in his chest. Was he going to be able to get Bob away after all?

A moment later his momentary hope plummeted as Bob continued, "But since you're still not ready to jump right into the game, I believe we'll take a little insurance with us. Something you value, to make sure you follow my rules. Something...important to you. Now what could that be?" He smiled cruelly and turned his head to glance in Maria's direction. "I know! How about your little girlfriend here? Can't blow up the car if the girl you love is in it, now can you?"


*****

"Well?" Isabel cried impatiently as Alex hit the button to turn off the cell phone. "What happened?"

"They weren't there," Alex said tersely. "No answer at Liz's house or her cell phone, and Agnes answered at the Crashdown. She said they'd left the dining room already, but she didn't know where they went. She wouldn't even go check upstairs for me--said she was going on a cigarette break."

"Great. That settles it--I'm getting Max a cell phone of his own for Christmas," Isabel burst out. She threw on the turn signal and screeched around a corner without applying the least bit of pressure on the Jeep's brakes. An oncoming sedan swerved out of their way with a blast of its horn. Dropping the cell phone, Alex gripped the edge of his seat with both hands and glanced worriedly over at the alien. It wasn't going to do Maria any good if they couldn't even make it to her house in one piece.


*****

"No!" Michael shouted. He couldn't let his father use Maria as a pawn. She had to be out of this, safe.... His mind was still scrambling for a plan when he heard himself say coolly, "Besides, I don't love her. Never did."

No one in the room was more shocked by this than Michael himself. He blinked once or twice as his brain translated what his mouth had just said. Didn't love Maria? Right. Well, maybe it would get Bob to forget about taking her along as a hostage.

Unfortunately, the other alien didn't seem to believe him. Nor did Maria, who let out a horrified "Michael!" in protest.

So much for that idea. Unless he could convince Bob.... He forced himself to turn to the girl he loved. "Sorry, Princess. You were a good time, you know? But that's all it was." He avoided her eyes, afraid his glance would give him away, but his whole body tensed. Fervently he hoped she'd catch on to what he was doing. And not believe it. She would know better, wouldn't she? Even with his being the complete asshole lately?

"How noble. Lying to protect her," drawled his father.

Dammit. The one person he wanted to convince, he couldn't. He was going to have to go for the jugular, even if it would chalk up yet another offense he could only hope Maria would forgive him for. Managing a careless shrug, he said, "Hey, a guy'll say anything to get laid, you know? Not my fault if she believes it. But to actually care about someone like her? Come on, I have better taste."

Finally daring to look in her eyes, he took in her shock; a moment later, tears rolled down her cheeks, and his heart clenched. "How can you say that, Mike? I thought we meant something to each other!" she wailed.

Mike. She'd called him Mike again. She knew what he was doing. He'd thank god if he believed in one. Swallowing his relief, he gave an indifferent shrug. "Nope. Sorry," he said, careful not to sound the least bit regretful.

In a flash, Maria was directly in front of him, looking absolutely furious through her tears. Without a word, she hauled off and swung at him, her palm landing on his cheek--the unmarked one--with a resounding crack! The surprise had Michael stumbling back a step; then he recovered and grabbed her by the upper arms. Strangely enough, the blow she'd delivered didn't really hurt. Either he was becoming impervious to physical pain--not likely, the way his head ached--or she'd given him a stage slap. She must've learned enough stage combat during play rehearsals to pull the punch without lessening the noise.

That evidently wasn't all she'd learned, either, because without warning, she let out a startled squawk and lost her balance, stumbling over her own feet as she was propelled backwards. Caught off guard, Michael didn't have time to steady her; his own arms went with her, stretching out to their fullest length until she slipped from his grasp. Scrambling awkwardly backward, she landed on the couch and into her mother's embrace. She buried her head into her mother's shoulder and sobbed; even as she comforted her daughter, the older woman shot Michael a venomous look. Ouch. But he couldn't blame her. If he hadn't known better, he would've sworn he'd just shoved Maria away from him.

But he hadn't. Maria had been in control the whole time. She was pretty damn good at it, too. Her mother had certainly bought the act.

Well, at least it had convinced somebody. Now if it had only convinced Bob....

Michael ran a hand through his hair, trying to look disgusted and maybe a little bored with the situation, and turned to glance at the other alien. For a moment, it seemed as if the little charade had worked; then Bob's mouth pursed and he stared, eyes widening slightly, at the boy in front of him. On Michael's right cheek, the tattooed symbol began to throb.

What the--was Bob trying to read him? Would his mental wall hold? Michael sucked in his breath and tried to look casual. If Bob was able to read him, he'd see that the little scene with Maria was fake. And Michael was pretty sure he wouldn't be quiet about it.

The smallest look of confusion crossed the other alien's face, and he shook his head. Michael's heart began to pound. Was his wall actually working? Had he actually done something right for once?

With a quickly growing, very unaccustomed sense of triumph, he realized he had. He'd kept Bob out. Finally, a tool he could use.

Now to finish it and get Bob out of there. He'd give the alien something else to believe--that Michael didn't care about Maria, other than for her body, because he was involved with someone else. Someone the other alien might be more willing to accept. Even as Bob shook off his doubts and stared intently at Michael for a second time, the teenager reached back into the recesses of his mind and summoned up the memory of the Tess-induced dreams he'd shared with Isabel, where they were together. Isabel and Michael on a rocky slope. Together in all senses of the word. The two of them, smiling, lighthearted...and a child. A child with brown eyes and tousled hair. A feeling of satisfaction and joy. He let the images filter through the mental wall he'd built.

He hadn't lied when he'd told Isabel he'd never been as happy as he'd been in that dream. If only it was enough to convince Bob....

A pleased look crossed the other alien's face. "So, the little dream-girl here isn't the only one you choose to dally with. The other one--who is she?"

"Just a girl," Michael bit out. He wasn't about to add fuel to the fire by mentioning that the girl in question was not only another alien, but the sister of the king Bob was so bent on destroying. "A little more worthwhile, wouldn't you say?"

"You certainly seem to think so. Well, if this one isn't going to be a worthwhile hostage, there's no point in bringing her along, is there?"

Michael's stomach unclenched so suddenly that he felt woozy for a moment. "Not really," he said coolly. But inside, he was feeling an unfamiliar swell of jubilation. Maria was going to be safe. It had worked.

Oh, goddammit all to hell! Bob had raised the gun once more, and was aiming it right at the girl's head. She began to shake. Michael had the distinct notion that she wasn't acting any more.

"Don't!" he cried out.

"We certainly can't leave them here, and they're too much of a bother to bring along," Bob pointed out in a reasonable tone.

Michael frantically racked his brain. "Mrs. DeLuca," he heard himself saying, "She's good friends with the Sheriff, and he knows about me and Maria. We hurt them--either of them--and he's gonna be suspicious." Actually, this was beginning to make sense to him. "Not to mention pissed off," he continued. "You want time to work on me, you don't need people running around getting in our way," he finished in a rush.

Tilting his head to one side, Bob seemed to consider this. "So what do you propose, instead?" he asked.

A test. And Michael had never been particularly good at tests. "Put 'em in a closet or something," he said, trying to conceal his desperation. Unfortunately, Bob didn't seem completely satisfied with this response. "Look," Michael said bluntly, "Leave them alone, and I'll go with you. Hurt them, and I'll fight you every inch of the way."

This seemed to amuse the other alien. "I believe you would, too," he mused.

"Besides," Michael added, "if they go and tell anybody about some alien takeover plot, who's gonna believe 'em, anyway? Only a bunch of UFO nuts nobody takes seriously. I mean, Mrs. DeLuca makes a living off of plastic aliens and New Age astrology crap. Everyone in town knows she's a real flake, just like her daughter." He looked at Bob, trying to keep an open expression on his face.

Finally, the other alien nodded. "And if I do this thing for you, you'll come without an argument?"

"Yeah." Michael hesitated for a moment, then added, "I'm not agreeing to help you, though. I'm still not gonna kill anybody."

Luckily this statement didn't have much of an effect on Bob. "I'm not worried about that. Given enough time, I can make you see things my way." He studied the two women. "I think we'll tie them up, though. Damsels in distress--such a nice clichT, don't you think?"

Michael didn't dare protest. "Whatever."

"Well then, don't just stand there. Go and find something to tie them up with." Bob's voice grew a little harder. "And I'd hurry, if I were you. You wouldn't want me to get bored and start target practice, would you?"

Michael looked at him for one moment, then bolted from the room. Within a matter of minutes he was back, an assortment of scarves, a belt, and the cord from the curtains in Maria's room in his hands. Gesturing with the gun, Bob followed the two women into the kitchen and sat them on the wooden chairs, then told Michael to bind and gag them.

Trying not to think about what he was doing, Michael knelt by Maria's side and began to tie her to the chair. After he finished her hands and feet, he looked up at her face. The tears had stopped, leaving tracks on her cheeks. He looked deeply into her green eyes for one fleeting second; her lips soundlessly shaped his name. His jaw tightened. With trembling fingers, he gagged her and rose.

"Do I need to check your knots?" asked Bob snidely. So he didn't trust Michael. It didn't matter though; Michael had tied the girl as firmly as he could without hurting her. The knots would stand up to Bob's scrutiny.

"Go right ahead," he answered calmly as he moved to Mrs. DeLuca and knelt by her chair. The woman shrank away from him. He couldn't blame her. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he muttered as he fastened her feet to the bottom rung of the chair. Moving around behind her, he fumbled for a moment with the curtain cord, then securely bound her wrists with it. His own hands lingered by the knot for just a moment; then he moved back around the chair. She watched him with wide eyes as he gagged her.

Finished, he straightened up and looked over at Bob. The gun was now pointed straight at him. He didn't even care, not as long as the others were safe, but he said, "You don't need that. I said I'd go with you, didn't I?"

A satisfied smirk crossed Bob's face. "So you did."

"We need their car?" Michael asked diffidently. Maybe if they took the Jetta, he could drive too fast and blow the engine like he did when he'd abducted Maria to Marathon. It might give him the chance to get away from the other alien....

But it wasn't to be. "No, I've managed to acquire a conveyance of my own," Bob answered. "Shall we then?" He tucked the gun away at the small of his back and gestured for Michael to precede him from the room.

Without a word, and without a backwards glance, Michael crossed through the living room to the front door. Throwing the deadbolt, he turned the handle and swung the door open...

...to find a very tense Isabel Evans, hand raised to knock.