"Flying Pepperoni. Crashdown. Got it," she said. She grabbed his coat from off the floor and thrust it at him.

"Do you have the phone numbers?" he asked as he pulled on the coat.

"There's always information. It's like magic. You call them up, and they'll tell you any number you need to know," Isabel answered. "Now go. Liz is going to be sitting in front of our house, waiting for you."

Max turned around and started down the hall.

Thank you, Liz, Isabel thought.

She forced herself to wait until she was sure Max was out the door, then she slipped into the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind her. Not that Michael and Cameron could hear anything over their own heavy breathing.

Adam lay on the bed, motionless. Yeah, he's real dangerous, Max, she thought. She hurried over and shook him by the shoulder. Nothing. He didn't even flutter an eyelash.

Isabel shook him harder. She wanted to know every single word Michael and Cameron had exchanged in the compound. And she definitely wanted to know if there had been anything physical between them. Anything. If they bumped elbows eating dinner, she wanted to know about it.

"Adam, come on. Wake up." She leaned down until her lips were about an inch away from his ear. "Wake up!"

His eyes began to move back and forth under his closed lids, then slowly they opened. Isabel jerked away. It was an automatic response, like jerking a hand away from a hot stove.

Adam's eyes were… People always said eyes were the windows to the soul. If so, Adam looked soulless. They could have been made of glass, like a really fancy doll's.

You're not here to stare into his eyes, Isabel reminded herself. "Adam, tell me everything you know about Cameron," she demanded.

He didn't answer. She wasn't sure he'd even heard her. "This is important. I need to know about Cameron," Isabel repeated. She thought another little shake might get him talking, but now that his eyes were open, somehow she just didn't feel like touching him.

"Come on. We're friends, remember? Friends talk to each other. Tell me about the compound," she coaxed. "Tell me how you met Michael. Tell me something about Cameron. Anything."

A big, fat nothing. That's what she was going to get from him. Isabel stood up. It would have been nice to know exactly what she was dealing with, but it wasn't necessary. The day she couldn't make a guy, any guy, forget about another girl was the day Isabel's coffin slammed shut.

She took a step toward the door, then Adam grabbed her arm. "Oh, so now you're ready to talk." She turned to face him. His blank green eyes stared right through her.

"I don't have time for this," she muttered. She tried to pull her arm away, but Adam tightened his grip, digging his fingers into her bare skin.

And then they were connected. But it wasn't like any connection she'd ever experienced. This was a violation. The images were being ripped from her mind.

She tried to scream, but the muscles in her throat contracted, as if they'd been squeezed by a hand jammed down her mouth.

She had to break the connection. She reached over and slashed the back of Adam's hand with her nails. She could feel warm, slick blood under her fingers, but Adam didn't loosen his hold on her.

She tried to think through the pain tearing through her mind. They were connected. She should be able to feel an artery in Adam's head or his heart and squeeze the molecules together until he collapsed or died. She didn't care which.

Isabel used all her will to fight the pain and search for the most vulnerable spot available to her. But she got nothing from Adam. She couldn't even feel his heartbeat or hear him breathing. She wasn't receiving any images from him, even though she could feel him digging through her mind.

There had to be something there. The connection had to go both ways. She squeezed her eyes shut and reached out with her ravaged mind, out and out. Yes. There. Just a little farther.

A flood of images pounded into Isabel. Too many. Too much. Blasting her raw brain.

She opened her lips again. "Michael." She forced the word through her bruised throat. "Michael, please…"

Michael unbuttoned another button on Cameron's shirt and discovered a tattoo low on her left shoulder-a hummingbird. He traced one of its wings with his tongue, and Cameron gave out a gasping sigh. She ran her nails lightly across his shoulders, shoving all thoughts out of Michael's brain. He heard a low whimpering sound, and he wasn't even sure if it was coming from him or Cameron.

Then he realized it wasn't coming from either of them. He jerked up his head and listened hard. It was coming from the bedroom, and it sounded like Isabel. He hurled himself to his feet and raced down the hall. He hadn't even realized Isabel was there.

He yanked open the door, and he felt an electric jolt sizzle through his body when he saw Isabel's face contorted in fear and pain. Then he noticed Adam's hand locked on her arm.

Michael gave a growl of fury and grabbed Adam by the back of the shirt. He yanked him away from Isabel and shoved him to the floor, then scooped Isabel up in his arms and laid her on the bed.

"Isabel, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't hear you. I didn't know." He brushed her hair away from her face with trembling fingers. "Can you tell me what happened? What did Adam do to you?"

Why was he wasting time talking? He had to heal her. He took a deep breath, getting ready to make the connection, then Isabel reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Not Adam," she whispered, her eyes bright. "I saw… for a second I saw… not Adam. Something controlling him." Her fingers went limp in his. "It's… I saw. Evil."

"You disappeared?" Liz exclaimed. "You must have been terrified."

"Well, I didn't really disappear. I just became kind of see-through. I could see my heart, Liz," Max said.

Liz flashed him a look of horror.

"And guess what? My heart has your name on it," Max said, grinning. As Liz giggled, he slid his fingers through her thick, silky hair, then leaned in for a kiss.

Maybe I should call and check up on the Adam situation. The thought barged into Max's head. He shoved it back out. He wasn't going to waste his Liz time stressing about Adam. Michael and Isabel were with him, and he'd made Isabel swear to let him know if anything strange happened.

He returned all his attention to kissing Liz. Each kiss was a kind of miracle. He'd spent years dreaming about what it would feel like to touch Liz, torturing himself by imagining one perfect kiss over and over. Back then he'd been sure dreams were all he'd ever have. But he was wrong. Liz was right here, sitting next to him on the living-room sofa, her lips a breath away from his. He closed the distance and gave her bottom lip a playful nibble.

Liz pushed him away and shoved one of the big sofa pillows between them. "You stay on your side," she ordered. "No more kissing until we finish talking about the collective consciousness. What do you think would have happened if you hadn't broken away when you did? Would your whole body have disappeared?"

"Disappeared is the wrong word to use. The molecules of my body had flown so far apart that it seemed like it was invisible," Max answered.

"When actually it was just scattered in a billion pieces?" Liz asked, her brows drawing together.

"Exactly. Once I realized what happened, I just focused my mind and squeezed the molecules back together. It was actually kind of cool." He grabbed the sofa pillow and tossed it across the room. "And that concludes the discussion of the collective consciousness." He looped his fingers around her turquoise necklace and gently pulled her toward him.