Isabel ran up the stairs to the basement. She heard noise from the stairs leading up to the ground level of the house and took the stairs two at a time, then three. She was taller than Nicholas and had no doubt she was faster. If he tried to run on open ground, she knew she would have him. She quickly made her way through the basement and up another set of stairs.

She burst through the door into the kitchen and heard footsteps heading toward the front of the house. Isabel followed, heading through hallways and rooms until she stepped into the great room. Looking ahead at the front door, she saw that it was closed. She hadn't heard it open or close, so she figured Nicholas was still in the house, somewhere.

Her anger fueled her as she focused on the fact that Nicholas had tried to kill Max, her friends, and then kill her. He had wanted to bring death to this house.

More death, she thought.

The Bentons had all died here. But they had been the

victims of a mindless sickness. She and her friends would have been the victims of Nicholas's purpose, a purpose as dark as anything she could imagine.

Then she heard another noise coming from the back of the house. She was in the kitchen seconds later, following the noise. She crossed the room quickly and threw open the door to the infirmary. Nicholas spun around to face her, and she could see that he had knocked several trays to the ground. His face was covered in blood, and he looked unsteady on his feet.

Isabel didn't hesitate, she raised her hand and hit him with everything she had. He responded quickly and met her force with his own. There was a bright flash between them, and for a long moment it was a stalemate. Nicholas broke the silence. "Vilandra, it doesn't have to end like this. If we both go to Kevar with the Granilith… "

"Stop!" she said. "It's going to end right now. I'm going to see that you never hurt anyone again." Isabel pushed harder, reaching out with her mind and her will.

Nicholas met the attack. "Face it, Vilandra, you're just not a fighter. You really should leave that sort of thing to your brother, Zan, and his pathetic second."

She thought of Max, fighting for her. Gentle Max, who as a small boy had once healed a bird with a broken wing before he'd even known he had the ability to heal. And it was not an accident that Max could heal, that that was his special ability. He was good, better than she was. When they were younger, she had resented that, afraid that her parents and everyone else could see it.

Now she just wanted to protect Max, who had risked his entire existence to save an innocent girl who had been

shot in a diner, who had spent his whole life trying to protect Isabel. She had never quite believed that she deserved what he gave her freely.

Max was better than her, and stronger. Every time he healed someone, he gave them some part of his power. And every time he did it, it made him stronger. That paradox was the secret of Max's strength. Suddenly, she felt petty and selfish. She had complained and whined for too long about her desire for a normal life. Max had long ago put away those desires and concentrated on protecting her and Michael. And then the friends that had joined their circle.

"Vilandra, it's time…," Nicholas began.

"My name's not Vilandra, it's Isabel. And you hurt my brother, you son of a bitch," Isabel said, reaching out with her weakened powers. For a moment, she had more strength than she'd ever had, and she imagined what it must feel like for Max… to do something for someone else, to draw power from that effort.

But it was for just a moment. Nicholas recoiled, then recovered and saw the point of the collision of their energies begin to shift from the middle of the room… and toward her.

Max had fallen, then Liz had tried, then Michael. Nicholas was too strong, and it disgusted her to know that he had taken most of the strength he carried from her brother's healing touch. Isabel knew her own strength would fail in a moment and there would be no one left to pick up the fight.

Death would come again to this house. It seemed… unfair. Isabel thought of the Bentons, living, laughing, loving, and then dying here. Then there was a subtle shift

in the energy of the room again. Suddenly Isabel had the feeling that she and Nicholas weren't alone anymore. She had had the feeling before in this house, and she knew where it came from… she felt where it came from.

They were not alone. The house was still full of life. It had always been full, even in the dark days since a mother and children had succumbed to a terrible disease here, since a father had grieved here. They had all left something of themselves in this place.

Isabel felt her strength return, then grow. The tide of the battle was changing again, and Isabel knew she wasn't the one doing it. Someone understood what Nicholas was, and didn't want him in this house.

With a single burst, Isabel pushed with all of her will and there was an explosion of light that illuminated the room. Before it could dim, she could see Nicholas flying backward, across the room and through the great windows and the sheet of plastic that covered them.

Then it was silent, and the room was dim.

She felt exhausted and was tempted to just let herself fall to the floor, but she had to make sure…

Isabel stumbled to the open window and saw the place where Nicholas had landed on the ground. The overgrown grass was bent down, but he was gone. Then she saw his dark figure stagger across the field toward the garage and it disappeared.

She considered going after him, but Isabel knew she would not get far, so she just stood and waited. A few seconds later, headlights that illuminated the darkness and an SUV crashed through the gate its way out. The taillights faded as it headed down the road.

Nicholas was still alive, but she knew he wouldn't bother them again tonight, or anytime soon. Though she was sure they would see him again, she had the feeling that he would never return to this house. Had he felt the other presence in the room? Had he felt its judgment?

It was crazy to think it, but Isabel was certain chat it was true. She had had help in her fight against Nicholas, in her fight for the only family she had ever known. And that help had come from someone who knew something about loss and had seen enough of death.

Unable to stand anymore, Isabel felt herself drift down to the hospital bed nearby. Then she closed her eyes and slept.

Sometime later, someone came to get her. Strong arms picked her up off the bed and carried her to another bed. It might have been Max, or Michael, or Kyle. She wasn't sure, but it was someone who cared for her.

It was one of her family.