Hot tears stung her eyes as memories of the past two years continued spooling past her. She remembered how she'd survived being alone on the road by discreetly obtaining transportation, meals, and lodging from people she encountered along the way, courtesy of her mindwarp abilities. She'd never influenced anyone to give her any more than they could afford, and therefore had managed not to rouse much unwanted attention before moving on to obtain aid from her next "sponsor. “

Ava had been sitting in a dingy little roadside diner somewhere in Ohio, grieving Zan, when she'd felt the fiery death of her other self… Tess, as her alter ego had called herself. When Rath and Lonnie had taken Ava to Roswell just before the big alien summit meeting that had followed Zan's death, she and Tess had evidently forged a subtle psychic connection.

The psychic flash Ava had endured at the precise moment of Tess's demise… a vicarious empathic experience that had seemed more real to her than even her most vivid dreams of Zan and Antar… had convinced her that she could no longer survive entirely on her own, a destitute half-alien waif with no one to lean on except for those whom she coerced into giving her aid and comfort. She realized that the surviving members of Antar's Royal Four needed one another, regardless of which set of them, if any, were the "real deal," as Rath liked to say. Just as Tess's preordained place had been with her own podmates, Max, Isabel, and Michael… Roswell 's version of the Royal Four… so, too, did Ava belong among her own kind.

This understanding had come to her as she'd walked alongside the median strip of a lonely stretch of highway, considering the aftermath of Tess's demise while watching the cars that flew past her in either direction. Ava knew it would be a simple matter to mindwarp any one of the drivers into stopping for her, and taking her in whatever direction she wanted to go.

The only question that remained then was, Which way? She knew that her heart still belonged to Zan, and that it always would. But Zan was dead, and the closest facsimile was a New Mexico teenager named Max Evans. Like her, this other Zan was now facing life without his predestined soulmate; Tess, the Roswell Zan's Ava, was gone, just as her own Zan was.

I could go to Roswell and have my Zan again, and he can have his Tess, she told herself as the traffic continued to whiz past, every car an opportunity, each direction a gateway to a unique life that would exclude the possibility of any other. One of those directions led eastward, back toward New York. The other would eventually wind southwestward to Roswell. And Zan.

But even as these thoughts swirled through her mind, she'd known that trying to hold on to Zan this way was wrong. She had seen the way the other Zan… or rather Max… had looked at the slight, dark-haired girl he'd called Liz.

He wasn't Zan. It was clear that he had long since established a destiny of its own.

A destiny that did not include Ava. She wondered if Tess had seen that. If that had been the reason Tess had died… or had been killed. The explosive psychic flash Ava had experienced wasn't been clear on that score.

So she began then, reluctantly, to accept that she would never sway Max's heart the way she had captured Zan's. And even though she knew she could never forgive or forget Rath and Lonnie for what they had taken from her, she was also aware that they were all she truly had in this world.

That day she had forever turned her back on whatever roads led to Roswell. There was only one path left for her to take, even though she knew it would lead her right back to Zan's killers.

Ava let go of her remembrances and returned to the present. She listened to the deep thrum of the jet engines and looked down at the cuffs that restrained her. Shame warmed her face. Maybe if I'd taken the other road that day, none of this would have happened. Maybe everything that's gone wrong now is because of me. Those Antarian-possessed freaks and the cops and the Men in Black swarmed all over us, and I just let it happen.

Just like with Zan.

Then Ava's shame changed temperature and texture, morphing into a dull red… red anger that finally came into balance with her omnipresent fear. She'd finally had enough of being a victim.

She concentrated, trying to focus her powers onto her bonds.

Nothing. The handcuffs on her wrists remained as solid as ever. The only reward she got for her efforts was a sudden dizzy, headachy feeling. She hadn't felt so lightheaded since the first time Zan had taken her to a rave. All four of them had had quite a bit to drink that night; they'd all learned the hard way just how powerfully alcohol affected their half-alien systems. The MiBs must have drugged me, she thought.

Closing her eyes again in the hopes that her head would clear soon, Ava wondered what had become of Rath and Lonnie. Had they gotten away? From just before she'd lost consciousness in the hands of the MiBs, she vaguely remembered Rath's attempt to rescue her and Lonnie. If he only had a chance to free one of us, he would have picked Lonnie. So maybe I'm the only one the bad guys managed to hang on to.

"Morning, Your Majesty," came a voice from behind her, startling her out of her anxious ruminations.

It was Rath.

She turned in her seat as much as the unyielding cuffs permitted. She saw that Rath was seated several rows behind her, no doubt drugged and handcuffed as well. She figured his head must have been slumped forward in the seat earlier, or she would have seen him when she'd taken her first look around the planes cabin.

"You almost gave me a heart attack, Rath!" Ava's tongue felt clumsy in her mouth. The drugs, she thought.

"Sorry," Rath said, grinning without any evident humor. "I just woke up from a catnap. You looked like you needed some company." His speech, too, was slurred by whatever the feds had pumped into his veins.

"Where's Lonnie?" Ava wanted to know.

Before Rath could say anything, Ava heard a moan coming from a few rows behind Rath. They both turned sideways as far as they could, and Ava saw a bleary-eyed Lonnie getting slowly upright in her seat. Blinking in the harsh cabin lights, she seemed unaware of where she was, as well as unable to speak. Almost zombielike, Lonnie stared out an unshaded oval window at whatever lay beyond their flying prison.

Which prompted Ava to ask, "Where are they taking us?" Her own window shade was almost all the way down, and she was seated too close to the aisle to reach it.

Rath nodded toward his own window, whose shade was all the way open, though all Ava could make out from beyond the double-layered Plexiglas was a sliver of bright blue sky.

"Judging from the lay of the land, I'd say we're heading for L.A.," Rath said.

" Los Angeles?" Ava said, frowning.

"Yup. Swimmin' pools. Movie stars. Probably gonna be on the ground pretty soon. “

Ava thought of Langley, the first alien they had met from their home world, and their sometimes "protector." He had worked for the last several years as a television producer. On the rare occasions when any of them had heard from Langley, he had explained that his main goal in working in Hollywood was to gather wealth and power, which would make him better able to protect them.

It was, after all, Langley 's job to keep them out of situations like this one.

A sudden flicker of hope warmed Ava. Had Langley subtly influenced the feds into bringing them right to his doorstep? Maybe he was secretly planning to rescue them.

True to Rath's prediction, the jet touched down a few minutes later, jouncing slightly just before the engines went into reverse to slow the plane down. The sudden deceleration threw Ava forward in her seat, and she had to grab the arms of her seat to keep the cuffs from biting into her skin. The plane stopped, and a charged silence fell across the cabin for several minutes.