by Melinda Metz
She pulled away. “Is Adam … ?”
“I’m here,” he answered.
Max turned and saw him standing next to Liz, his green eyes focused and alert. “Good to have you back,” Max told him.
“This is all quite touching,” DuPris said. “Now give me the ring.”
Max reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. Moment of truth, he thought. He handed it to DuPris.
“Good to have you back,” DuPris said to the Stone.
The Stone began to glow, and the hair on Max’s arms prickled. It was time to leave—and fast. As Alex had said, they should be standing way, way back at this point. He jerked his chin toward the door.
Michael nodded. “We’ll leave you two alone together,” he told DuPris.
“That’s not necessary. In fact, I won’t hear of it,” DuPris answered. “I want to try this baby out. I bet with the Stone, I can take control of all of you at the same time. Any takers?”
9
The living room exploded with the Stone’s purplegreen light before Max could even consider connecting to the consciousness.
And it was over.
DuPris had him. Had all of them. Max couldn’t see the others—his eyes were locked straight ahead—but he knew if even one of them was still free, they’d be attacking DuPris right now.
“That was too easy,” DuPris complained as he headed over to Max. “It sort of spoiled the fun.” He licked his finger and used it to smooth out Max’s eyebrows, then he moved on.
Was he touching Liz now? The thought made Max feel as if he were going insane. He couldn’t even turn his head to look at her. Forget his head. He couldn’t even move his eyes.
DuPris moved back into his field of vision, his face so close to Max’s, it blotted out everything else. “Your girlfriend is delightful,” he commented. His tongue flicked out and brushed across his upper lip, as if he was enjoying the taste of something. “But I don’t think I’ll touch her yet. She’s worth savoring.”
He can read my thoughts, Max realized.
“Yes, and they’re very predictable,” DuPris answered. “Very human, I’m afraid to say. Poor Max, all in a knot at the idea that I might get a little too close to Miss Ortecho. Don’t worry. Though she is very attractive.”
Michael could practically feel the fury pouring out of Max, a fury that matched his own.
“Another predictable human response,” DuPris said, circling around in front of him. “I must say I’m disappointed in you, although I suppose I must take into account that you were raised here. Well, raised is perhaps not the correct word. Pitiful unwanted little Michael, the orphan boy. You haven’t had an easy time of it on this planet, have you? Skipping from home to home where no one liked you well enough to keep you.” He reached out and straightened Michael’s collar. “Don’t worry, Mikey boy, I’m going to keep you forever and ever.”
Michael wanted to rip off DuPris’s head and drop-kick it across the room. Yeah, and then do a victory dance on his body.
DuPris laughed. “Very colorful,” he said. “I think you need a demonstration, something to help you adjust to your new circumstances.”
Michael’s heart began to flutter. Get a grip, he ordered himself. Don’t let this clown scare you.
DuPris shook his head. “You’re not exactly quick, are you?” he asked.
Michael’s heart jerked in his chest. It isn’t fear causing this, he realized. It’s DuPris. His heart jerked again. A little harder and it could rip the veins and arteries connecting it to his body.
“That’s right. And you know what would happen then,” DuPris said. “Bu-bye!”
All Michael could do was stand there motionless as his body turned against him. Pain speared up his left arm. His heartbeat doubled, then doubled again, each frantic beat yanking on the veins and arteries.
White dots exploded in front of his eyes. A metallic taste flooded his mouth. Bu-bye! he thought wildly.
And then his heart slowed down. The pain subsided. His vision cleared, and the first thing he saw was the satisfied smile on DuPris’s face.
“Consider that the first class of New Reality 101,” DuPris told him. “And you will be tested later.”
Even if DuPris hadn’t had control over her, Maria didn’t think she’d have been able to move. The terror would have kept her rooted in place.
“Now that’s what I like to hear,” DuPris said. “What a good little bunny you are.”
She felt a hand pat her on the head. Oh, God, he was right behind her.
“I’ve always wondered what kinds of thoughts bunnies are capable of having,” he continued. “Let me just look around for a minute.”
Memories began to flash through Maria’s mind. She saw herself lying on her stomach, drawing a lavender pony. Watching her mother get dressed for a date. Buying her first box of tampons. Using a feather duster to wake the other kids in her preschool class up from a nap. Refusing to dissect a worm. Kissing Michael.
“Ah, interesting,” DuPris murmured.
The memories continued to race by, but now they were all of Michael. Michael flicking cake batter at her. Michael slow dancing with her. Michael laughing at her imitation of a serial killer on Prozac. Michael staring intently into her eyes. Michael listening to Maria babbling that he had to choose between her and Isabel.
“And even more interesting,” DuPris said. “It seems one of my Pinocchios has won the heart of two of my Pinocchiettas. Isn’t that sweet?” He patted Maria on the head again.
She felt humiliated. Violated. DuPris had destroyed some of her most precious memories by using them for his entertainment.
“I’ll give you a new memory to make up for it,” DuPris promised her, continuing to invade her mind.
Maria felt an electric current begin racing through her body, zapping her nerve endings. She made a quarter turn, took two steps, and made another quarter turn. She found herself in front of Michael, her eyes focused, on his chest. Without her will, her arms reached toward him.
Maria had spent hours fantasizing about touching Michael again, about him touching her, inventing all kinds of scenarios for how it would happen. Now her daydreams had turned into a nightmare. DuPris was going to make them put their hands on each other while the scumbag got off on the show. Don’t make me do this, Maria silently pleaded, hating herself for begging but willing to do anything to stop this.
“Oh, come on,” DuPris said. “It’s exactly what you want to do, and you know it. And you don’t have to worry about Michael rejecting you this time because he can’t!”
Maria’s arms looped around Michael’s neck. His hands wrapped themselves around her waist.
It’s just Michael, she thought. He may not have chosen you in the girl-o-rama, but he’s still your friend. Whatever happens, remember that it’s him touching you, even if DuPris is pulling the strings.
Michael slid one hand lower, tracing the curve of her hip. She wished she could look into his face at least, but DuPris wouldn’t even allow that.
It’s Michael, she repeated to herself as she was forced to press a mechanical kiss against the side of his jaw. It’s Michael.
He pulled her tighter against him, and she caught a whiff of something sharp and tangy. Eucalyptus. Eucalyptus—what she always smelled when they made a connection.
They weren’t completely connected yet, but if they could—Maria slammed the thought away. She couldn’t let DuPris read it.
It’s Michael. It’s Michael. It’s Michael. She returned to her mantra, but now it held a new meaning.
“I told you you’d enjoy yourself,” DuPris said. She felt him toying with one of her curls, but she refused to let herself be distracted.
Her fingers were forced into Michael’s hair, and she tried to imagine her aura wrapping itself around them both. The sent of roses, her connection scent, blended with the eucalyptus, softening its bitter edge.
Almost there, she thought. Then she caught a flicker of blue out of the corner of her eye
and a splash of brick red. Their auras were becoming visible to her. They swirled together—and it happened. Michael and Maria made the connection.
She raised her eyes to Michael’s. She raised her eyes. Not DuPris.
Before DuPris had a chance to realize what had happened, Maria shot her hand to the left and grabbed Isabel by the arm.
An infusion of Maria’s sparking blue aura and Michael’s brick red one shot into Isabel’s body. She could almost taste it in her blood.
She tried to wiggle her fingers and smiled when she was successful. She reached for Max, grabbed his hand, and felt his aura rushing through her, too, giving her a blast of big brother protection along with the smell of cedar. DuPris didn’t know who he was dealing with here. When the six of them made a connection, they were unstoppable.
She’d missed Max, missed all of them so much. She felt as if she’d been away from them forever. But she was back!
Hi, Liz, Isabel thought when she felt Liz’s amber aura join the rainbow ripping through her. She took a deep breath and caught a touch of Liz’s exotic ylang-ylang in the perfume of their connection.
She was totally losing it, but she didn’t care. They were going to shatter DuPris’s hold on them. And then they’d be free. If she could, she would have done her trademark back flip into a full split. Free! Whee!
“The puppets are trying to take over the theater,” DuPris said dryly “How entertaining.”
Give us one more minute, and you’ll see how entertaining it is, Isabel thought. She realized DuPris might take it as a challenge if he chose that minute to read her thoughts, but let him. She was ready for a fight.
Alex’s vivid orange aura zoomed into the mix, trailing the scent of almonds. The force of it, of him, almost knocked Isabel off her feet. Who wouldn’t be ready for a fight with Alex on their side? The boy might not have any powers, but he did not know the meaning of the word surrender.
Isabel let out a whoop, glorying in her ability to open her mouth and make a sound. She was regaining control by the moment. The room began to fill with music, a concert made up of the music of their dream orbs. She wasn’t the only one who was back. They were all back!
Alex threw out an image to the group—a cartoon man in a black-and-white-striped uniform swimming away from Alcatraz, his arms moving as fast as a plane’s propellers. Alex knew no one had been held prisoner on the island for years, but hey, why be so literal?
Isabel responded with a picture of herself in her cheerleader uniform, jumping up and down and yelling her head off. Typical Isabel. Had to send a picture of herself. But there was no bitterness to the thought. Here, in the connection, he could open himself up to her without their history weighing him down. He could enjoy the pure, essential Isabel, with all their mutual crap stripped away.
She sent out another picture of herself, this time jumping so high, she touched the sun. Yeah, baby, he thought.
Michael followed up with a surfer shooting a curl. The big cheeseball. Alex shot him back a grinning guy in a T-shirt that said Totally Tubular on the front.
With each image the power of the connection grew stronger. They were charging the battery. Gassing up. Amazing that this little cornball image exchange would turn them into a well-oiled fighting machine.
Adam cringed as Max hurled out the image of a tiger stalking through the jungle, yellow eyes watchful.
This was all too much, too big, too loud. The colors of all the auras clashed with the pictures everyone kept throwing. And the heavy perfume swirling around him felt like it was replacing all the oxygen in the air.
He started to pull his hand away from Liz’s, but she held tight. She let an image slowly unfurl in front of him. The two of them in her backyard, just sitting on the grass under the night sky.
Michael sent him a picture of the two of them playing crazy eights in his compound cell. Isabel waited until that image had completely faded, then sent over the acid green clouds of the home planet they shared. Max added a view of the earth from space. Maria showed him a butterfly breaking free of a cocoon, wings still wet.
They wanted him to be a part of this and not just to protect him, he realized. He let his own aura stretch out, adding a band of yellow to the ribbons of color tying them together.
He took a deep breath, allowing himself to appreciate each scent in the air, including the smell of green leaves that he somehow knew was coming from him. Then he selected an image and let it soar out. He smiled as the two pieces of golden brown toast popped out of the shiny silver toaster.
His smile widened as Alex responded with the image of all seven of them eating toast together. Loaves and loaves of perfect toast.
Liz could actually taste the buttery toast in her mouth. This felt so right, all of it.
“Are you about finished?” DuPris asked. The image of the whole group eating toast shriveled as he paced in front of them. “It seems that it’s already time for another lesson in New Reality 101.”
She tightened her grip on Max and Adam. They were still connected, and the connection was still strong. But not strong enough to take on DuPris. Not yet. She could feel it.
Liz chose another image—Max healing her after she got shot at the Crashdown. That’s where it all started. That’s what brought them all together, even Adam, in a way, because that day they all started down the road that led to him.
She catapulted out the image, but she couldn’t feel a response. It didn’t reach them, not even Max, she realized.
“I hold in my hand one of the three Stones of Midnight,” DuPris lectured. “Its power is greater than anything you have ever experienced. Until now.”
Liz felt her stomach lurch, and she realized the house, the entire house, was rising into the air. A moment later it fell with a shuddering crash that sent Liz’s teeth slamming together. She swallowed and tasted blood in her mouth.
“That was just a little demonstration. Very little,” he continued. “Ready for another one?”
Yeah, Liz thought. Bring it to us. That will bring the—
She stopped herself from completing the thought in case DuPris was listening.
“I can feel the peanut of power you’ve got growing over there. Want to see what it can do?” he asked. “I think we should all see what it can do.” He yanked Maria out of the group.
Isabel and Michael immediately closed the gap, but Liz felt cold without the warmth of Maria’s aura around her. The music of the connection sounded out of key without her note. The perfume smelled too sharp and spicy.
There’s still a lot of strength left, she told herserf. But she felt so powerless seeing Maria standing next to DuPris, her eyes blank and dead.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt her,” he announced. “She’s just going to be the prize in a game I call bunny, bunny, who’s got the bunny. Here’s how it works. You use your power to keep me from taking back full control. I use my power to make you the puppet people. You win, you can leave. You lose, and the bunny gets burned.” He patted Maria on the head. “And you’ll do the burning.”
No, Liz thought. Not that. If she did anything to hurt Maria, she wouldn’t want to live herself.
DuPris turned to Adam. “You remember the rules, don’t you? You and I played once before. Or was it twice?”
Liz felt a shudder course through Adam, and the connection grew a little shakier. We’re weakening, and we haven’t even really started yet, she thought.
DuPris beamed and opened his arms wide. “Okay, ready, one, two, three—go!”
She braced herself for a blast of the Stone’s power. It didn’t come.
Don’t think about it, she ordered herself. Build up the connection. That’s the only thing that matters.
But how? She turned her attention to the bands of color binding them together. She didn’t know what to do exactly, but she had to try something. She imagined their auras turning to metal, using all her will to make them hard and strong, impenetrable.
And it began to work. She didn
’t know how. She suspected that the connection helped her to access a power that she’d always had, maybe locked in one of those mysterious pieces of the human brain that seemed to have no function.
Liz felt the others join with her, struggling to turn the rays of light into armor. When the armor was finished, DuPris would have no control over them. She hoped.
She discovered it was most effective to concentrate on reinforcing her own aura. She focused her mind on the bands of amber, working her way inch by inch, not allowing anything to distract her.
Until she noticed the beads of moisture on the piece of aura she had just finished. The droplets gleamed with the Stone’s purple-green light.
And they ate through the armor like acid.
Cameron stared at the ranch house. It had flown probably twenty feet in the air before it crashed. And it was a house. What the hell were they fighting in there?
Cameron sidled up to the closest window and peeked inside. The scene inside was utterly confusing. Michael and the others were surrounded by what looked like big sheets of metal that were being eaten away by acid or something. Cameron wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
Maria stood apart from them, and it was clear she’d entered the zombie zone. Clearly bad.
And there was a guy with oily, slicked-back hair holding a glowing stone. Obviously he’s the one I should go after, she decided. She circled around to the back of the house, found an unlocked door, and slipped inside.
You have no weapon of any kind. You have no martial arts training. You don’t even have very long fingernails. Just what are you planning to do? she asked herself as she made her way through the kitchen and down a dark hall. She had no answer.
“Honey, I’m home,” she muttered under her breath as she stepped up to the half-open door that she thought was the one she’d seen from outside. If she went in here, she should end up behind the oily-haired guy with about half the room between them.
At least until he turned around and threw her farther than he’d thrown the house.
