Melinda Metz - The Watcher

Her eyes darted to the other two walkways. Could she make it to one of them in time? Or was that just a good way to get herself shot in the back?

"Get over here. And don't lower your hands, or I will shoot you," the guard ordered.

Isabel walked toward him. She was going to have to knock him out, and that meant touching him so she could make a connection.

She wondered how fast his reflexes were. Could he realize he was in danger and pull the trigger faster than she could find a nice vein in his head and squeeze?

At least she had her fake face back in place. Even better, the face was pretty. Not quite as pretty as her own, but still plenty pretty. That gave her a little advantage. Guys didn't tend to think of pretty girls as potentially lethal. Plus it made for a good distraction.

A couple more steps and she'd be close enough to reach him. Isabel made her bottom lip tremble a little, a trick she'd learned in the fourth grade. She hoped he'd think she was completely scared and helpless.

Isabel took a step, then another. Okay, hope this works, she thought. Because if it doesn't, one of us is leaving the compound in a body bag.

She took one more step, then pretended to stumble. She let herself fall, arms outstretched. The guard instinctively moved to catch her. His hand touched hers, and she willed herself to make the connection.

The rush of images began. Isabel let them rush past her in a. blur of color. She heard the guard's heart begin to beat along with her own. Quickly she began to explore his body. Their body.

She chose a vein deep in his head and used her mind to squeeze the molecules together. She felt his pain and bewilderment, but she didn't let go. Not until he fell to the floor.

Isabel leaped over him and ran down the walkway to the observation room. She picked the widest walkway that branched off the room and sprinted down it.

She came to an abrupt halt when she reached the exit door. She could hear a fight going on. She took a step closer and leaned partway out. Her heart stopped, then gave a hard double slam in her chest.

Michael and Ray were battling against five guards. The guards had some kind of electrical stunners, like cattle prods. They were using them to keep Michael and Ray from touching them. There was one guard lying motionless on the ground. The others probably saw that Michael and Ray could hurt with a touch and were making very sure that neither of them got close enough to do any damage.

She hesitated, bouncing her weight from one foot to the other. Should she just make a run for it? That was probably her best chance of escaping. If she tried to help Michael and Ray, she might not get to Max in time. And Michael and Ray had each other for backup.

Yeah, she decided. She'd have to go without them. Isabel locked her eyes on the big metal doors leading out of the room. Then she ran full out.

She didn't know if the guards even saw her fly by. If they had, they weren't chasing her. Not yet. She wheeled around a corner and froze.

Sheriff Valenti was halfway down the cement hall, gun drawn. His cold gray eyes locked on her.

This was the moment Isabel had been fearing all her life. The moment the wolf came and dragged her off to his cave. One thing was clear-she would not let him take her alive.

"I don't want to shoot you. So be sensible. Don't try anything silly," Valenti said.

Of course he didn't want to shoot her. She was much more valuable to him alive. But the only way she was going to let him have her was dead.

Don't be insane, a little voice in her head pleaded. Let him take you. Michael and Ray will come after you. You know that. There's no way Michael would let Valenti keep you here.

But Michael could die. Ray could die. And Isabel would be left at Valenti's mercy.

That thought decided her. Isabel let out a roar of rage and terror and launched herself at Valenti.

"Stop," he shouted. "Now!"

"Stop!" another voice yelled. A hand reached out and grabbed her by the back of the shirt. Isabel jerked her head to face her captor. Ray.

"Don't shoot. We're stopping. We're stopping right here," Ray told Valenti.

Ray was going to let Valenti take her. Examine her. Experiment on her. And finally dissect her.

No! Isabel jerked away and leaped toward the sheriff.

Ray flung himself in front of her. A shot rang out. And Ray fell to the ground, the green and blue whorls of his aura instantly turning black.

Oh God. Oh no. Ray was dead.

Isabel didn't want to leave him. Didn't want Valenti to have his poor, defenseless body. But Ray was dead. And Max was still alive.

She didn't hesitate more than a quarter of a second. She raced past Valenti and hurled herself around the next corner. She spotted another set of the metal doors. She dashed through them, then used her power to shove the molecules together, slamming the doors shut.

That's not enough, she thought. Valenti would have no problem getting through that door, with a couple of guards to back him up.

Isabel yearned to run for her life and Max's. But she forced herself to stand still. She kept her focus on the molecules, making them move faster and faster until the metal doors got so hot, they began to melt. Then she allowed the molecules to slow. The doors cooled, but now they were sealed together.

Michael would be able to open them, if and when he got there. But anyone else would need at least a blowtorch.

That's right, Isabel told herself. Now you're thinking. And that's how you're going to get out of here.

She leaned against the wall and pressed her hands against her face. She felt the skin and bone move under her fingers as she changed her appearance to match that of the guard she knocked out.

Then she calmly made her way to the parking garage, got in the rental car, and took the elevator up. A few minutes later she was speeding through the desert.

"Hang on a little longer, Max," she whispered. "I'm almost there."

"Max, you've got to hang on," Liz cried. "Michael, Isabel, and Ray are going to be back here with the crystals any second."

"Yeah, Max," Alex added, only the slight tremor in his voice signaling what a wreck he actually was. "You can't check out now. You owe me a new car. One with air bags. Those babies are the only reason Maria and I are here talking to you."

Max opened his lips, but the only sound that came out was a wet clicking.

Is that what people call a death rattle? Liz thought wildly. No, he was still breathing. Shallow, ragged breaths that were painful to watch. And to hear.

"Should we help him sit up?" Maria asked. "Do you think that would help him breathe?"

Liz didn't know what to do. Should they be calling an ambulance? The paramedics could at least give him oxygen or something. But they'd take him to the hospital, and then if Michael, Isabel, and Ray showed up with the crystals, Max wouldn't be here.

And Max would die without the crystals, in the hospital or out of it.

"Liz," Max croaked out.

"I'm here," she told him. "Don't try to talk. Save your strength."

"Love… you." His eyelids fluttered shut.

"No!" Liz shouted. She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. His head flopped back and forth. "No, Max. Please, no."

"Is he?" Maria exclaimed, backing away from the bed.

"Check his pulse," Alex ordered. "Maybe he's just unconscious."

He was right. She didn't know for sure. She didn't hear the horrible, ragged breaths, but maybe. Maybe.

She pressed her fingers against the side of his neck. But her hands were shaking, and her own heartbeat was pounding in her ears. She couldn't tell.

"Max. Come on. I'm not letting you leave me," she cried. She reached out and gently slid up one of his eyelids. She thought she saw his pupil contract a little.