The Dark One

'I know,' Isabel answered. Her chapped lips began to bleed again. 'But I need… I need you to… find him.'

***

Alex hesitated outside the door to his father's study, his heart fluttering nervously.

'No guts, no glory,' he muttered, lifting his hand and knocking confidently. When his father called, 'Come in,' Alex straightened his spine and squared his shoulders, shooting for the posture his military-man dad preferred. Well, preferred was an understatement. More like demanded. Then he stepped inside.

'I thought you were at the movies,' his father said, glancing up at Alex.

'I was, but something came up,' Alex answered. 'Something I need to talk to you about.'

The Major looked surprised-or what passed for surprised, considering the way he kept his emotions locked down. Alex understood why. He and the old man weren't exactly known for their heart-to-heart talks. They'd basically had one-when Alex made it back from the aliens' home planet. They'd had this short but intense conversation about how Alex's dad had been trying to bring him back. That revelation had totally blown Alex away-and not just because his dad had revealed that he was a Project Clean Slate agent-but because he'd revealed the depth of his love for Alex.

'Go ahead,' the Major said. He gestured at the chair in front of his desk. Alex settled in, trying to keep from nervously jerking his leg up and down. This room and this chair gave him a Pavlov's-dog reaction. In the past he'd only been in this location when he'd been getting reamed by his dad for doing something wrong.

'You remember Isabel Evans, right? She came to dinner that one time?' Alex asked, veering away from the most direct route to what he needed to say.

'Charming girl,' the Major replied.

Alex couldn't help smiling, remembering how Isabel had impressed the hell out of his father and two of his brothers. They couldn't believe little Alex had hooked up with a girl like her.

'Yeah. Well, when you were, uh, looking for me, I know you found out the, um, truth about her.' Alex decided to avoid speaking the alien word. Project Clean Slate people probably didn't call them that, anyway. Alex figured they had to have an acronym. The military had an acronym for everything.

'I've told you that everything regarding that subject is classified to the highest level,' Alex's father said. He sat up straighter than any human being with a spine made of bone should be able to sit.

'I know. And I respect that,' Alex said quickly. 'But Isabel-she's going to die if I don't help find her.' He met his father's gaze steadily. The Major was almost as big on direct eye contact as he was on good posture. 'And to find her, I need the tracking device you used to hunt down DuPris.'

'That device does not exist,' his father answered.

Alex gripped the arms of his chair with both hands. 'It doesn't exist in reality, or it doesn't exist technically- because it's so top secret?'

'There's no difference,' the Major replied.

'You know what? That's bull,' Alex said, his voice calm.

'I won't have you use that kind of language when speaking to me,' his father snapped, leaning across his desk to get right in Alex's face.

'I apologize,' Alex told him, refusing to back away. 'It's just that I know-we both know-that this device that doesn't exist was used, by you, to try to save my life. I doubt that mission was authorized.'

For the first time in his life, Alex won a battle of the eyes with his father. The Major looked away first.

'It's the only time I've ever stepped outside the chain of command,' he admitted.

'And you did that because-' Alex hesitated. It was one thing to know the reason, another thing to say it. 'Because you love me.'

Another first. Alex had never directed the L word toward his father. The Manes men did not speak that way.

His father gave a brusque nod.

'And I love Isabel,' Alex continued. He rushed on before his father could comment. 'We're not even a couple anymore. It's not that. The two of us, we've gone through a lot together. More than I can possibly explain. I know her soul.' He winced at how gooey that sounded. His father had zero appreciation for goo. 'I trust her completely. I know she would do anything to cover my back. You know that, too. You know she risked her life to bring me back to Earth.'

Alex leaned forward, holding his father's gaze.

'I can't let her die, Dad. She's part of my unit or my squad or whatever I should be calling it.' He wished he'd paid a little more attention when his dad and brothers got into one of their military conversations. 'I'm responsible for her.'

Alex's father didn't answer for a long moment, and Alex wasn't sure if this was a good sign or a bad one. His father was impossible to read.

'Dad, she's really sick,' he started again. 'She's going through something called the-'

'I don't need to know the details,' the Major interrupted. He stood up, pulled a key out of his pocket, and set it precisely in the middle of the desk. 'You probably don't know that I have a safe behind the family portrait.'

He strode around the desk, clapped Alex on the shoulder, then headed for the door. 'Good night, son.' Then he glanced back quickly. 'Good luck.'

Alex waited until he heard the door click closed, then he picked up the key. 'Thanks, Dad,' he said into the empty room, studying the key. 'I'm going to need it.'

TWELVE

Relax, damn it. Just relax, Michael ordered himself. He needed to enter the dream plane. It was his only shot of finding Trevor, but he was too tense to concentrate. When he closed his eyes, the sound of Isabel's tortured breathing seemed to get louder until it filled the room. Her breaths were coming farther apart, so there were these heart-stopping moments of silence when Michael kept thinking Isabel had died.

Which was the big reason he couldn't remotely relax. Relax, hell, he could hardly stop himself from shoving his fist through the wall or ripping his hair out in bloody clumps. Isabel was dying. Isabel was dying. Isabel was dying. The thought flashed through his mind again and again, like a blinking neon billboard.

I need Maria. The realization surprised him, sneaking in between two of the Isabel-is-dying thoughts. But it was true. Maria could get him in the right mental state to enter the dream plane. She'd done it before.

Michael shoved his hands behind his head so he wouldn't be tempted to pick up the phone and dial Maria's number. It was too dangerous to call her. He was so close to breaking his promise to Isabel as it was, so close to teleporting to get the crystals and forcing them into her hand.

Yeah, it would be a walking, breathing nightmare to be connected to the consciousness. But at least Isabel would be alive, and as long as she was alive, there was hope, hope that maybe somehow they'd figure out how to break her-and Max-out of the connection.

He turned his head and glanced at Isabel. Her eyes were slitted open, and she was staring back at him. Her lips parted as she strained to say something.

'Tre… vor,' she gasped.

'I'm going to find him,' Michael promised her. He closed his eyes again.

What had Maria done that time he needed to get to the dream plane and couldn't? Michael let his mind go back to that night. First she'd made him smell some flower oil-lavender, he thought. It didn't do a thing except make his nose itch.

But then she'd talked to him. Just talked in a low, soft voice. Something about drawing everything with a purple crayon when she was a little girl.

Michael tried to imagine Maria was sitting next to him right there in the fleabag motel in Hobbs, talking to him. Gradually the sound of Isabel's ragged breathing faded into the background, overpowered by the imaginary Maria voice. A few minutes later Michael slipped into the dream plane.

The dream orbs whirled around him, glimmering with iridescent colors. Michael had never seen Trevor's