"All right, I'll only say one more thing." Her mother started to put the remaining candy bars back in the bag. "Wait for someone you really care about, who really cares about you."

Michael. It was him or nobody.

Maria's heart tightened in her chest. She could be facing a very, very long wait. Like forever.

"I promise," Maria told her mother. "But you really don't-"

The phone began to ring, interrupting her. Maria tipped her chair back far enough to grab the receiver. "Hello?"

"I can see you right now," a male voice said. "Sitting at the kitchen table with your mother. Having a little heart-to-heart. It's very sweet."

Maria opened her mouth, but she couldn't get any words out. Her throat was too dry.

"I can see your brother, too," the voice continued. "In the living room, playing some video game. Yes, I can see everybody in the house, every move they make."

There was a click, and the dial tone started to hum in her ear.

"Who was it?" Maria's mother asked.

Maria swallowed hard. "Wrong number," she answered. She stood up and crossed to the kitchen window. The front yard was dark and empty. So were the sidewalk and the street.

But Maria knew someone was close by. Watching. She pulled the curtains closed.

It's just Kyle, she told herself. It has to be just Kyle, right?

But even if it is just Kyle, she thought, a tingle of uneasiness running down her spine, what if he gets tired of just watching?

Alex slid into bed, his own bed, with the dip in the middle that fit his body perfectly. I'm home, he thought for probably the fifty-second time that day.

He didn't expect to be able to sleep-at least not right away. He figured his brain was crammed with way too much info-about his dad and Trevor, mainly. But when Alex's head sank down into his soft, goose-down pillow and he closed his eyes, he immediately felt that slipping-sliding wooziness he always got when he was just about to go under.

The next thing he knew, he was falling. No, not falling, being hurled-down, down, down. His velocity pushed the flesh of his cheeks back toward his ears, curled his top lip toward his nose.

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 babysitter. 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.