The Rebel Read online

  Alex clawed at the air, grasping for something to stop him. But there was nothing but the void all around him as he flew down, faster and faster.

  He could feel the pressure building internally. His bladder and stomach felt weighted down. Each beat of his heart seemed to take massive effort, as did each breath he pulled into his burning lungs.

  He was in a wormhole.

  You’re dreaming, Alex told himself. You’re home in bed.

  But the thought didn’t jar him awake.

  He felt suction coming from behind him, pulling him backward. But the other force was still hurtling him straight down.

  Alex heard his bones creak as his body stretched out, thrown forward and hauled back simultaneously. A gash opened up on his stomach. He felt a rush of hot blood. Then a matching gash opened on his back.

  He was being ripped apart. And he was powerless to stop it.

  He opened his mouth and screamed. Then his whole body jerked, and he sat up fast—hyperawake.

  His heart was pounding so hard, he could feel the beats in his throat and ears and temples. He lowered himself back down. The sheet under his back was damp with sweat.

  He hoped he hadn’t screamed out loud. His little talk with the Major had been very cool. He didn’t want the good feeling between them to evaporate because he’d woken up hollering like a baby.

  You’re in your room. You’re safe. Your body’s still in one piece. Just get a grip, he ordered himself. His heartbeat slowed down a little. But when his eyes adjusted to the darkness, it kicked right back into high gear.

  He wasn’t alone. Someone stood in the shadows near his dresser.

  Alex slowly, shakily slipped his hand out of the covers. He reached under the bed, feeling for his Louisville slugger, keeping his eyes locked on the motionless figure. After he wrapped his fingers around the bat’s smooth wooden handle, he tensed his muscles, preparing himself to spring.

  But suddenly the intruder was gone.

  Not out the door. Not out the window. Just gone.

  It had to be Trevor, he thought. When he saw that I saw him, he teleported out of here.

  Alex jumped out of bed. Did Trevor get the Stone?

  He clicked on the overhead light and grabbed the peanut butter jar filled with marbles off his dresser. He dumped the marbles onto his bed, cursing as a bunch of them hit the floor.

  Was it there? Was it? His fingers flew over the marbles, sorting, sorting.

  Got it. Thank you, Edgar Allan Poe, he thought. When he was eleven, he’d read all the guy’s stories about twenty times each. The Purloined Letter had given him the idea for hiding the Stone pretty much in plain sight.

  But a good hiding place wouldn’t stop Trevor next time. Alex was sure he’d come after the Stone again. And the Louisville wouldn’t have much of a chance against Trevor’s powers.

  “This is the first party I’ve ever thrown,” Michael told Adam and Trevor. “The place is getting trashed again.” But he smiled. The museum was the perfect party space, and everyone from school was taking full advantage.

  Half of Isabel’s cheerleading squad was holding court in the coffee shop in the back. Over by the Elvis on Mars display there was already some dancing going on that was a lot more like making out.

  “Why the first?” Trevor asked. He took a swig of his Lime Warp, grimaced, and set the can on the floor.

  “Michael and I haven’t lived here that long,” Adam answered quickly. Michael got the feeling he was a little jealous of Trevor. He could understand that. Michael was sort of like Adam’s big brother/roommate. And now Michael’s real brother had shown up—and moved in.

  “And before I lived here, it was all foster homes—which are never exactly party central,” Michael said. “But anyway, this is the optimum night for a party. No one’s sick. No one’s locked in the compound.” He slapped Adam on the shoulder, and Adam flashed his eager puppy-dog smile. “No one’s on another planet. No one’s trying to kill us, at least not right this second. And—”

  “Oh no, no, no,” Maria cried as she squeezed her way between Michael and Trevor. “There’s going to be no talk about killing tonight. It’s Alex and Trevor’s welcome-home slash welcome-to-earth party.”

  “So what should we talk about?” Michael asked her.

  “Little fuzzy bunnies with little pink noses,” Maria answered immediately. “Little fuzzy bunny slippers with little pink noses would also be acceptable.”

  Michael cracked up. He never knew what was going to come spilling out of Maria’s raspberry-colored mouth. “How about the fact that your little brother is attempting to see up Kieran Scott’s dress as we speak?”

  Maria let out a yelp. She started toward Kevin, but Michael blocked her way.

  “I think Max has it covered,” he told her. He glanced over his shoulder just to make sure and saw Max leading Kevin over to the office, where Ray had set up an assortment of old pinball machines.

  “Sorry I had to bring him,” Maria said. “Mom couldn’t find a baby-sitter. She’s going to pick him up in about half an hour.”

  “Not a problem,” Michael answered.

  “So if we’d grown up here together, is that what I’d have had to do with you?” Trevor asked. He raised an eyebrow at Michael. “Take you to parties that I didn’t want you at in the first place?”

  Michael could hardly imagine what his life would have been like if Trevor had been around. Everything would have been radically different. Even if they’d been in foster homes, at least they would have had each other.

  “You’re not that much older than me,” Michael reminded him, clamping down on the sentimental trash in his head. “I probably would have gotten invited to all the cool parties and had to take you along.”

  “Would not,” Trevor countered.

  “Would too,” Michael joked.

  Maria laughed. “You really are brothers, aren’t you?”

  “Definitely,” Trevor answered. “I paid special attention to all the materials the Kindred gave me on sibling relationships. I wanted to make sure I treated Michael right.” He reached over and socked Michael on the arm. “Is that right? Or should I be giving you a wedgie?”

  Michael felt himself starting to grin like an idiot and tried to get a grip.

  “What I studied didn’t mention that friends take responsibility for their friends’ siblings,” Trevor added.

  “You lost me,” Michael admitted. He drained his soda in a long gulp.

  “The way that Max took charge of Kevin just now,” Trevor explained, jerking his chin toward the office.

  “That’s not so usual,” Maria told him. “It’s just that in our group, we’re almost more like family than friends. I guess that makes Kevin kind of an honorary little brother to Max.”

  “I definitely think of him as my little brother,” Adam volunteered.

  As far as Michael knew, this party was only the second time Adam had ever seen Kevin. But Michael wasn’t about to bring that up. Not when Adam was trying so hard to prove he was one of them.

  “So, okay, you guys. Back to the important topic of bunny’s noses. Adam, what color pink would you say they are?” Maria joked.

  “You have to tell me what you’re on,” Michael teased. “I want to be sure to avoid it.”

  Maria tilted back her head and stared him in the eye. “Just a little tangerine oil, which is very invigorating,” she answered, all serious.

  “Can I have some?” Trevor asked.

  “Of course.” Maria opened her ridiculously small purse and pulled out a vial of oil. She took out the stopper, dabbed some of the oil on her fingers, and then rubbed it into the base of Trevor’s throat.

  “You could have just given him the vial,” Michael muttered. He wanted Trevor to experience pretty much all the cool things earth had to offer—but not getting touched by Maria.

  “It’s better if it’s on a pulse point,” Maria explained, still smoothing the oil into Trevor’s skin.

  “Feels good to m
e,” Trevor answered. He pressed her fingers back to his throat when she started to pull them away.

  Michael felt his face start to flush. Was Trevor hitting on Maria? Exactly what “local behavioral norms” had he learned before he showed up here?

  “Feels good to me, too,” Maria told him. “Did you know fat-free cookies can taste amazingly like the fat-full ones?”

  Was she hitting on Trevor? That oil was long gone, and she still hadn’t taken her hand away. Michael narrowed his eyes, studying her. Maria’s aura was sparkling, little silver flecks scattered through the silky blue.

  Michael shoved his hands through his hair. Yeah, there was a very real possibility that she was flirting. He shot another glance at her. Make that she was definitely flirting.

  “I’ve never had a fat-free cookie,” Trevor answered, smiling down at Maria.

  “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know anything about cookies. She doesn’t even eat cookies,” Michael informed him.

  “I might start,” Maria said, still looking at Trevor. Although Michael thought he caught her giving him a lightning-fast glance out of the corner of her eye.

  Is she trying to make me crazy?

  “So, Trevor, what do you—,” Maria began.

  Then the lights flickered and the crowd gave an oooh of anticipation. “Get ready to bop!” someone shouted.

  “Give me a friggin’ break,” Michael muttered. He took a step toward the guy manning the big boom box, but Maria snagged him by the elbow.

  “Come on, Michael. We have to give Trevor and Adam the chance to experience the bop,” she said.

  Michael groaned. But he knew Maria well enough to know that she’d be relentless until she got what she wanted.

  “There wasn’t anything about the bunny hop in the material you studied, was there?” he asked Trevor as the bop music started to blare.

  Trevor nodded, glancing around at the lines of people starting to form up and down the aisles of the museum. “Bunny hop, Charleston, swing dancing, disco, break dancing, everything,” he answered.

  “You swing dance?” Maria exclaimed. “I would love to learn that.”

  “One of the guards taught me the bunny hop,” Adam volunteered loudly, clearly feeling a little left out again.

  “Okay, well, both of you should know that Roswell has its own special version of the bunny hop called the alien bop,” Michael explained. “It’s about to start, so be afraid, be very afraid.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Maria said.

  “Except looking like a dork,” Michael interrupted.

  She ignored him, focusing on Adam and Trevor. “What you do is, you put your arms around the waist of the person in front of you.” She moved up behind Michael to illustrate, standing close enough that her breasts brushed lightly against him.

  Suddenly Michael didn’t think the bop was such a horrible idea. Especially since Maria was demonstrating on him and not Trevor.

  “Then you kind of bend your knee one way while you twist your foot the other way,” Michael said, looking from Trevor to Adam.

  “Excellent party!” Maggie McMahon called as she bopped past, followed by her boyfriend, who was dressed in a guy version of the outfit Maggie was wearing. Pathetic.

  “Would I give any other kind?” Michael shouted back.

  “What do we do after the leg-bending thing?” Adam asked.

  “You know what? It’s easier if you just watch everyone else and imitate what they do.” Michael grabbed Adam by the back of the shirt.

  “Now, you grab onto Trevor,” he said, before Trevor could wrap his arms around Maria.

  Adam obediently linked his fingers through Trevor’s belt loops. “Now what?”

  “Now we bop!” Maria shouted.

  * * *

  Isabel sat at the top of the spiral staircase, staring down at the party happening below. She liked being able to see everyone in her little group at once, well, everyone but Liz, who was practically being held prisoner at home. Somehow it made her feel safe to see them all together, and safe wasn’t something she’d had enough of in her life.

  Her eyes ran from person to person—Michael and Trevor scarfing pizza with sugar off one of the display cases, Adam stretched out on the floor with his head next to the boom box, Maria saying something to Max that was making him laugh by the front window, and Alex getting hit on by Stacey Scheinin near the entrance to the coffee shop.

  Wait … what?

  “Uh-uh. Not gonna happen, Stacey,” Isabel whispered. She leaped to her feet and rushed down the stairs. Then she slowed down and casually made her way over to Stacey and Alex.

  She could see why Stacey’s guy antennae had led her in Alex’s direction. There was something different about Alex since he got back. It was like he was giving off a double dose of those pheromones that caused sexual attraction or something. He’d been getting looks from practically every girl in the place.

  And that was fine. Good for Alex. Really. But Stacey was not getting her Princess Pink nails into him. She’d said way too many nasty things behind Alex’s back in the past.

  “Sorry, Stacey, I have to borrow Alex from you,” she said sweetly. She took Alex by the hand and pulled him over to the improvised dance floor that had been made by shoving a bunch of display cases against the wall.

  “Isabel, you know when you break up with someone, you can’t get pissed if they talk to another girl at a party,” Alex said, but he didn’t sound mad. He pulled her close as a slow song started to play.

  “I know,” she answered, not bothering to explain that he could do way better. She didn’t feel like talking right now, especially about Stacey.

  She rested her head on Alex’s shoulder and let herself completely absorb the fact that he was home. She wondered if she’d ever find anything that felt better than this.

  “What do you think of Trevor?” Alex asked.

  “I’m happy for Michael,” Isabel murmured.

  “That’s not what I asked,” Alex said.

  Isabel lifted her head so she could look at him. The muscles in his jaw were tight, and the expression in his green eyes was intense and challenging.

  She gave a mental sigh. Was this some kind of jealousy issue? This was Alex’s first night out since he came back. She didn’t want to have to sit him down and have some kind of it’s-going-to-be-weird-seeing-each-other-with-new-people-but-it’s-got-to-happen speech.

  “What do you think of Trevor?” she asked, deciding that was the easiest way to go.

  “I think none of us really knows him yet,” Alex said slowly. “I think until we do, we should be … cautious.”

  And I think Alex is getting a case of the jealous, Isabel decided. But she wasn’t going to let that ruin the night for any of them. She snuggled up closer to Alex and rested her cheek against his chest.

  “Cautious. That makes sense,” she mumbled.

  To her relief, Alex didn’t say anything else. They just danced. When the song ended, Isabel kept her arms around Alex. He tightened his grip on her, burying his face in the side of her neck. Then he slowly pulled away. “Thanks for the dance,” he said, his green eyes warm as he looked at her.

  Isabel had the feeling Alex was talking about more than the dance, that he was talking about their whole horrible/wonderful time together as a couple. She reached out and ran her hand down his cheek.

  “Thank you.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, then they each seemed to realize there was nothing else to say. Something was ending, and they had to let it happen.

  Isabel gave Alex a last smile. She turned around and pushed her way through the crowd, heading back toward her perch on the staircase. Then she stopped. She didn’t feel like just watching anymore. She didn’t feel like just being safe.

  Besides, she was Isabel Evans. And that carried responsibilities. She had to let everyone at the party see how fabulous she looked tonight. It’s not like she’d bought her form-hugging pink dress so no one
would notice her.

  Tish Okabe waved to her from the other side of the room, and Isabel started toward her. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She glanced back and saw Trevor. “Would you want to dance with me?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Isabel answered. “You should know that every girl in the place would want to dance with you. Your earth adaptation is definitely yummy.”

  “Yummy?” Trevor repeated.

  “As in I’ve got to get me a taste of that,” Isabel teased. She slid her arms around his neck, and after a moment’s hesitation Trevor positioned his hands at her waist.

  The feel of his hands reminded her of Michael. Trevor’s gray eyes reminded her of Michael, too. But Trevor’s hands, Trevor’s eyes … they did something to her that Michael’s didn’t, making her body feel almost liquid.

  “You two know this is a fast song, right?” Isabel heard Maria call. She twirled past them, with Adam trailing behind her.

  She’s right, Isabel realized with a start. It was as if when she looked at Trevor, everything had slowed down. Reluctantly she released him and got herself moving to the music that was actually playing.

  “I wasn’t trying to get you to stop,” Maria said. Isabel spun toward her, and the two of them started dancing face-to-face, ignoring the guys.

  “Not a problem,” Isabel answered. She was almost glad to be free of Trevor’s touch. It had been almost too intense. Maybe Alex was right to warn her about him. She had the feeling if he got too close, he could melt her into a little puddle on the floor. Had he felt anything even close to what she had?

  Isabel shook her head, realizing she’d never wondered that about a guy before.

  “What?” Maria asked.

  “Nothing,” Isabel called back. She felt someone grab her hand, and she was pulled into a spin.

  “Hey, I was dancing with Maria,” Isabel told Michael when she realized it was him who’d snagged her.

  “And now you’re dancing with me,” Michael announced.

  “I guess I’ll have to make do with Alex,” Maria said. She crooked her finger at him, and he danced his way over to her.

  Isabel caught him giving Trevor a hard, evaluating look. Trevor noticed. He gave Alex the same stare right back. Not tonight, boys, she thought.