Melinda Metz - The Rebel

He remembered having a nightmare when he was a little boy in the compound. One of the guards, a woman, had come into his glass cell and sat on his bed. She'd stroked his hair until he'd fallen back asleep. That was what Liz needed from him right now. Warmth, not heat.

Gradually the sobs shuddering through her body grew gentler, then stopped. Liz lifted her head.

"Sorry," she mumbled without looking at him. She brushed at the wet spot on the front of his T-shirt, the light pressure of her fingers sending jolts through his body. "Sorry I bawled all over you."

He gently pulled her hand away from his shirt. "Don't worry about it." He started to release her, but her fingers twined around his. Adam marveled at how he could feel that touch all the way down to the arches of his feet.

"You're so sweet," Liz said, finally looking at him. They were almost exactly the same height, so her dark brown eyes met his evenly. She leaned closer and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Adam didn't have a chance to react before it was over, before his first kiss ever was over.

"You're sweet, too," Adam answered, although the word was totally inadequate to describe Liz. His eyes dropped to her lips, her beautifully shaped, beautifully full lips. Michael said it's okay for friends to kiss, he thought.

It was as if the thought propelled him forward. He hesitated with his lips a fraction of an inch away from hers. She didn't pull away, so he kissed her, a kiss only seconds longer than hers had been.

Or at least it would have been that short if Liz hadn't cupped the back of his head with one hand, keeping his mouth on hers. It's like all my molecules are… dancing, Adam thought fuzzily.

Then he felt Liz's tongue teasing open his lips, and all thought slammed to a halt. Adam was thrown into a universe of pure sensation-hot, wet, sweet.

Liz.

Adam pulled Liz closer, greedy for even more. She responded by sliding her hands up under his shirt, her palms running across his bare back.

He pushed her thick hair to one side so his fingers could taste the skin at the base of her neck. He felt a little shiver rip through her, and he was awed by the realization that he could have that effect on her. On Liz.

Adam wrenched his lips away from her mouth, hating to leave it but needing to continue discovering her, needing to make her shiver again. He traced the line of her jaw with his tongue, then moved down and concentrated on the hollow of her throat, sucking at the tender center, scraping his teeth lightly against her collarbone.

Liz shivered again, then she slowly eased herself away from him. "We can't… We have to stop."

Adam's ability to think slowly returned. "Why?" he asked, his body screaming to return to hers.

"Max," Liz said simply.

The name was like a gallon of ice water thrown over Adam.

"Right. Max," he repeated.

"I used to hang out here a lot, when things got too intense at one of my homes. It's the cave where our pods were left until it was time for us to break free," Michael told Trevor. "There's a sleeping bag over there." He pointed to the back of the cave. "And there are some canteens and food stashed in that hole I carved out of the limestone."

"Thanks," Trevor said. He walked over and sat down on the bag. Michael sat down next to him and leaned back against the hard, cool wall.

What if Trevor is dangerous?

The thought flashed through Michael's head so fast, he didn't have time to stop it. He glanced over at Trevor. He hoped his brother hadn't seen any trace of suspicion in Michael's aura.

"Sorry about what happened back at the museum," Michael said. They hadn't talked about it during the drive out to the cave. They'd just listened to the radio and pretended everything was normal.

"I guess I should have said something, defended myself. I was just too blown away," Trevor said. He gave a harsh bark of laugher. "No one's ever called me a killer before."

"You've got to get out more," Michael joked. Or tried to. It sounded funnier in his head. That seemed to happen a lot with Trevor, the sounded-better-in-the-head phenomenon.

"I almost could see the humans being suspicious of me, but…" Trevor let his words trail off.

"It's not a nonhuman-human thing," Michael explained. He shifted slightly, trying to find a position where the cave wall wouldn't dig into his spine. "If you'd asked me six months ago, I'd have told you that there was no way a human could be trusted not to murder you in your sleep."

The word murder seemed to come out of his mouth louder than the others. What if Max is right about Trevor? Michael thought again.

Michael squeezed his hand into a fist, grinding the bits of glass deeper, hoping the pain would bring back his righteous anger, his absolute certainty that Max and Alex had no clue what Trevor was really about. It didn't.

"There have been tons of times when Alex, Liz, and Maria have put their own lives in danger to save me, Max, and Isabel," Michael continued, suddenly feeling very tired. He stretched out onto his back. But it felt weird to be lying down with Trevor still sitting up, so Michael shoved himself upright again.

"So I know for sure that nothing that was said tonight had anything to do with who is human and who isn't. Actually, I don't even think Maria necessarily believed that Alex was right about you," Michael rushed on. "And Liz-Liz is totally logical. When she hears about this, I can guarantee you she won't jump to any conclusions."

Although logic might tell Liz to err on the side of caution. Logic might tell her that they should all stay very far away from Trevor if and until they were absolutely sure he wasn't a threat.

"What about Isabel?" Trevor asked, his gray eyes glittering with intensity.

"I think Izzy was withholding judgment," Michael answered. "It looked like she wanted to hear everything before she made up her mind."

"But she's willing to consider the possibility that I would have killed Alex for the Stone if I could," Trevor said, bitterness edging his voice.

Michael thought about the cool way Isabel had asked her questions back at the museum. "I'm not going to lie to you-I think Isabel is in guilty-until-proven-innocent mode." He took a deep breath. "Too much has happened to her-to all of us, I guess-to make it that easy to trust people."

"I don't have to ask what Max thought," Trevor said.

Michael reached into the hole in the cave wall, pulled down a battered metal canteen, and took a long swig. "Grape soda and soy sauce. Want some?"

Trevor took the canteen, tilted back his head, and let some of the drink pour down his throat. "Excellent," he said.

"We're pretty much the only ones who think so-not even Max, Izzy, or Adam will drink it," Michael answered.

Trevor and I are so much alike, Michael thought. Why can't Max see that?

"The thing with Max…" Michael paused, not sure exactly what he wanted to say. "Max is practically like my brother. It's just that, lately…" He shook his head. "I don't know, since he went through his akino and joined the consciousness, he's been changing. Sometimes it's like he's not even Max anymore."

"Yeah, that happens a lot," Trevor answered. "A lot of the beings come to the Kindred because they refused to join the consciousness. They didn't want to lose their sense of self. You know, their identity."

"Isn't that basically the same as committing suicide?" Michael asked.

"You mean because you'll die if you go through your akino without making the connection?" Trevor asked. He handed the canteen to Michael, and Michael shoved it back in the hole. "That's bull," Trevor continued, his voice rough with anger. "That's what the consciousness wants you to think, but it's complete bull."