About kissing Zan, about the memories we shared. I told them about Rath and Lannie, about life back on Antar. I told them about the sparks, and the orgasm-inducing vision.

To say the least they were shocked. About the orgasm that is, in fact, all but Max blushed.

Hmm, maybe he wasn't such a prude. Now that's food for thought.

Anyway....

Then I told them the plan. The plan the others-who I had affectionately termed the Dupes––had made. The plan to kill Michael, and Max, and Isabel.

Then I told them about MY plan.

I don’t think they liked it.

************************************************************

Dreams are supposed to be private. Supposed to be a way for people to escape from their tedious lives, and live out fantasies.

Isabel could dreamwalk. She went into peoples dreams every night, saw their innermost wishes when she closed her eyes and slept.

She thought she was the only one.

She wasn’t.

Max could heal. His touch was like a hot, Summer breeze that floated the pain away.

He thought he was the only one capable of this.

He wasn’t.

Michael could kill. HIS touch could melt you completely--or turn you to ash, depending on his mood. The thing was, he KNEW he wasn’t the only one.

He was right.

I had a variety of everyone’s powers, plus a few of my very own powers (See: Hypnosis, visions, thought transferral), and somehow that made me more powerful than the three of them.

Gee, I wonder why?

Anyway, so there I was ready and willing to do anything I could to save Michael and the others, when he seduced me once more.

Through dreams.

************************************************************

Dreams are tricky creatures, like fate. Like prophecies.(I think I heard that on Buffy once.)

I know what you’re thinking an alien that watches Buffy the Vampire Slayer. What can I say, it brought some normalcy into my life. I know, I know an alien finding vampires and demons norm---

Sorry, sorry––back to the dream thing.

Okay, so I’m conked out on Michael’s floor. That night had brought fatigue on pretty early for me, so the sandman stopped by around midnight, which was actually early.(I usually started ZZZing at three a.m.) I

thought I’d be safe, that Lannie would be too afraid to invade my subconscious.

She was.

Zan wasn’t.

He was somehow able to dreamwalk me through her. I guess since I had never thought of letting Michael try that, and had no recollection of doing it from my past life––so it hadn’t crossed my mind.

My dream was...how can I put this....stimulating....to say the least.