"What?" Liz exclaimed, stepping into the room. "Why didn't you tell someone?"
"He doesn't always come home," Adam said as he closed the door behind her. "I didn't think-" Adam paused, taking in the upheaval in Liz's aura. "I guess it was stupid of me."
Liz shook her head and sighed. "No, it wasn't," she said. "Not if it's normal for him to stay out. Max is the one who should have been on this. He couldn't even remember if Isabel had been home in the morning before school."
Large splotches of anger appeared in her aura along with dark streaks of sadness.
Adam was pretty sure he knew the source of the sadness. It had just hit Liz again how un-Max-like Max had become. She still loved him. Even though he could see that most of the time Liz hated to be in the same room with Max, she still loved him with every molecule in her body. He wondered if she realized that.
And you just have to suck it up, he told himself, using another Michael expression. It was insane to think the mole boy could ever have a girl like Liz, anyway.
"What do you think Michael and Isabel-" Adam was interrupted by a loud knock on the door that made Liz jump slightly. Adam opened it to find Kyle Valenti standing on the staircase that led up from the museum parking lot. Kyle strode in without waiting to be asked.
"I need to know where DuPris is," Kyle announced, hands on hips. He was out of breath, and his face appeared red from exertion. "Once I know where he is, I can handle him, but I don't know how to track him."
"Kyle, go home," Liz said firmly. "And don't even think about going after DuPris. He is more dangerous than-"
"He killed my father," Kyle shouted, his hands fisted by his sides. "I can't just do nothing. Don't you get that? Now tell me where he is."
"We don't know," Liz answered. Adam was glad she was there to do the talking. Kyle was more than a little bit intimidating.
"You don't know," Kyle repeated, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, look out the window, and maybe you'll see something that will help you remember."
Liz rushed to the window, and Adam followed right behind her. Down in the parking lot were a cluster of people, two of them with video cameras.
"Reporters," Liz said.
"That's right, brainiac," Kyle answered, sounding smug. "If you don't tell me where DuPris is, then I'm going to go back down there and tell them all about your friends." He jerked his thumb at Adam. "Starting with that one. I'm sure they'll have a lot of questions for him."
If Michael was here, he'd know what to do. He'd find a way to make Kyle back down. But all Adam could think about was that as soon as the reporters knew where he was, he'd end up back underground somewhere-and the thought paralyzed him.
"You know what? Adam was just saying how he wished he could get on TV," Liz told Kyle.
She reached out and took Adam's hand, but he barely felt it. Usually it would be all he could feel if Liz touched him, but at the moment he was numb.
"Come on, Adam," Liz continued. "Let's go make you a star. I bet we can even get you some endorsement gigs. Maybe one for a fancy toaster or something."
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze that brought him slightly back to earth.
"Sure. Let's go," Adam managed to say. The reporters terrified him, but he trusted Liz.
"You're bluffing," Kyle said.
Liz didn't reply. She just headed for the door. Adam didn't try to pull away. He let her lead him outside and down the staircase and even got his lips to approximate a smile as the cameras swung toward him.
"The guy's one of the ones I told you about," Kyle yelled from behind them. "He's an alien. And there are three more that I know about. Their names are-"
"You're all from Albuquerque, right?" Liz interrupted.
She knows what she's doing, Adam told himself. Don't freak. Do not freak in front of the reporters. It will only make them suspicious. But all he really wanted to do was run as fast as his human legs would carry him.
"That's right," one of the reporters answered.
"I knew you weren't from Roswell. Everyone in Roswell knows-" She hesitated, shooting a look at Kyle.
"Knows what?" the same reporter asked.
"She's going to give you some load of bull," Kyle warned.
Liz leaned closer to the reporter she'd started the exchange with. "That's Kyle Valenti. Valenti. Ring a bell? He's the son of the man who used to be sheriff."
"The one who disappeared," the reporter finished, eyes wide.
"Exactly," Liz continued somberly. "Kyle thinks an alien killed his father." She lowered her voice. "It's very sad. He's gone through so much."
"What?" Kyle yelled, storming toward the little crowd. "What did she say to you?"
"Just giving us a little background information," the reporter answered.
Adam smiled a real smile as the reporter turned and headed back across the parking lot, followed by the others.
"Where are you going?" Kyle shouted. He turned to Liz, his eyes practically popping out of his head. "What did you tell them?"
"Only the truth," Liz said with a shrug. Then she turned back toward the museum, tugging Adam by the hand. He fell into step with her, grinning like a child.
"You're amazing," he told Liz.
"I know." She grinned back at him. "It's a curse."
Max rubbed the silk of one of Isabel's blouses between his fingers, allowing a cluster of the beings to experience it. So soft. And made by worms. And-
Out of nowhere a tidal wave of fury hit Max. A massive group of beings swept the curious cluster away, and a series of demands were flung out.
Where was the second Stone? Where was the betrayer?
Max sank to his knees, the raw, pulsating anger incapacitating him. All he could do was allow it to wash over him, scalding. So hot, it turned the air to steam that singed Max's lungs.
The Stone! The Stone! The Stone!
The words were like red-hot brands on Max's skin.
You must find it! You must destroy the betrayer!
The wrath brought blisters up on his back, blisters on top of blisters. One of them burst open, and the coolness in that one small patch of skin brought tears of relief to Max's eyes.
You must destroy the betrayer! You must-
"Stop!" Max cried, not knowing whether he was using his voice or simply hurling the thought into the ocean of auras. "Stop! You're going to kill me."
The fury receded, just slightly. Max seized the opportunity and jammed the volume down on the consciousness, using all his will to keep his connection as low as possible.
He lowered his head and remained crouched on the floor of Isabel's room. You're all right, he told himself. He forced himself to study his arms. See? No brands. No bums. You're completely fine.
The sensation had been so powerful that even while staring at his unharmed skin, Max had a hard time accepting that he was even alive after what he'd experienced.
He slowly climbed to his feet. "Why am I in front of Izzy's closet?" he muttered.
Then he remembered. Some of the beings had wanted to experience the texture of silk. They'd have to wait. No way was he going to allow the volume of the consciousness back up.
He turned and headed to the door, then froze. That's not why he'd come in here. He bolted back to the closet. He'd come in here to see if any of Isabel's clothes were missing. He'd been afraid she and Michael had taken off, and he'd wanted to check it out.
Nothing should have been more important than that. And he'd been playing personal shopper to some of the beings. Max started whipping through the hangers in the closet. Why did Isabel have to have so damn many clothes? How was he supposed to know if anything was missing? She'd have to take a three-month supply for him to-
Max looked down at the floor, and his knees turned to oatmeal. She was gone. Her suitcase was gone, so she was gone.
He immediately turned toward Isabel's night table. The communication crystals were still there, right where he'd left them.