Michael felt the twinge again when he saw Isabel walk into the basement of the UFO center. She was too pale. The make-up that was usually so expertly applied, looked like a mask. And she wouldn’t meet his eyes, not even when he made a crack about the leather pants she was wearing. That should’ve earned him at least a dirty look, if not a snide remark about his clothes or his hair. She was too quiet, too still. It scared the shit out of him.

Then Max reached out and squeezed Isabel’s hand. And she told them what she knew about Vilandra.

Tess’s reaction to the news was flat denial. “It couldn’t have happened, Isabel. I know I don’t remember everything, but my feelings for you—they’ve never been fear or betrayal. And Nasedo never said anything about this. He would have told me something. And why would they have sent you with us, if you had betrayed us? It didn’t happen. I don’t believe it. I would have felt something.” Isabel tried to argue that maybe no one had known about Vilandra’s betrayal, but Tess couldn’t be convinced. She trusted her feelings.

Michael had responded with complete indifference, ignoring the twinge that was becoming almost an ache. “You’re not Vilandra. Who cares what you did in some other life? You’re with us now, and I know you’d never do anything to hurt us.” And he meant it. He trusted her. This whole Vilandra thing meant nothing to him. But he could see the disbelief in Isabel’s eyes. And the haunted look of fear.

Memories are just where you laid them

Drag the waters till the depths give up their dead

What did you expect to find

Was there something you left behind

Don’t you remember anything I said when I said

When Tess suggested that Isabel use the memory retrieval techniques Nasedo taught her, Michael felt the ache in his chest become tighter, sharper. What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t think of one good reason not to follow Tess’s suggestion. But he heard his own voice raised in protest. What was the point? Would knowing about Vilandra and their past lives really change anything? Looking at Isabel, he knew there was no point in arguing about it. The fear in Isabel’s eyes had been replaced with a mixture of hope and dread. She would do it no matter what he said. But he argued on, hearing his voice tighten with a desperation that he couldn’t explain. The pain in his chest was like a vice, like someone had reached into his chest and was crushing his heart in their fist.

So he finally gave in, trying to remind himself of his own arguments. What difference would it make if they did find out Vilandra had betrayed their former selves? It wouldn’t change anything in this life. What was the worst thing that could happen? And he watched as Tess walked Isabel through the steps to access the memories. Watched as Isabel closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound of Tess’s voice. When Isabel opened her eyes again, her eyes told him everything that he needed to know. It hadn’t worked. She hadn’t been able to remember. He felt the tightness in his chest ease. He noticed for the first time that his hands were clenched into fists, that his nails were digging into the palms of his hands. He went to her and told her it was all right, that it didn’t matter. He tried to comfort her and not let her see the relief that was pulsing through his body.

Don’t fall away

And leave me to myself

Don’t fall away

And leave love bleeding in my hands

In my hands again

And leave love bleeding in my hands

In my hands again

Love lies bleeding

Somehow, Michael had thought that would be the end of it, that Isabel would see the futility in trying to remember the past. That she’d somehow sense Michael’s fear and give up her quest, knowing without being told that whatever had happened wasn’t worth remembering. He’d hoped he’d never have to feel that painful quickening of his heart again.

Until he woke up that night to find Isabel kneeling by his bed, crying. He ignored his fear then. Ignored the voice in his head that told him to run, to push her away. He held her crying in his arms and begged, pleaded for her to tell him what was wrong. But she wouldn’t tell him. She just shook her head, spraying his face with her tears. So he just held her and didn’t ask any more questions. He was grateful. He didn’t want to ask her any more questions. He didn’t want to hear the answers. And he didn’t want to tell her about the senseless panic that twisted in his heart like a knife. He didn’t want to tell her that before she’d woken him that he’d dreamt about holding his own bleeding heart in his hands. He didn’t want to tell her that her hands had held the bloody knife that ripped his heart out of his chest.

Hold me now I feel contagious

Am I the only place that you’ve left to go

She cries her life is like

Some movie black and white

Dead actors faking lines

Over and over and over again she cries

Isabel came again the next night. Michael heard her unlock the door to his apartment and walk in. He hadn’t wanted to sleep. When he closed his eyes, he could still see his heart in his hand, beating slower and slower until it stopped completely. He didn’t want to see that anymore. He didn’t want to know what it might mean. He wanted to forget that he’d ever heard the name Vilandra.

Michael felt Isabel sit at the edge of his bed, heard her whisper his name. He thought about ignoring her, thought about pretending to be asleep. Why the hell couldn’t she go to Max or Tess with all this Vilandra crap? But he couldn’t turn his back on Isabel. She’d promised once that she’d always be there for him. He had to try to be there for her. So he held her as she whispered about the dreams. He almost couldn’t hear her over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears.

He listened to her talk about Kvar, how she’d met with him secretly at first to work out a deal for a peace that she knew Zan would never agree to. How they’d become lovers. How she’d shared the kingdom’s secrets. How Kvar had finally told her that the peace could not be brokered, that his people would not be satisfied until her brother was dead. How she had realized that he was only telling her this because he felt it was too late for her to stop it. How she’d run to the palace to find that assassins had snuck in through the secret entry, the entry she had shown Kvar after they’d first made love. How she’d found Ava weeping over Zan’s broken and bloodied body.

“I thought that you must be dead, too. And I felt like a part of me had died. I started screaming and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. But then Ava grabbed me. She hugged me. God, she didn’t know what I had done. She didn’t know that I was responsible for this. For Zan. And she told me that you hadn’t been there when it happened. She told me that you were out fighting Kvar’s army. And then I was running again. I had to find you. And there was all this smoke, and fire, and blood. God, there was so much blood. And I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t find you. And I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. Oh God, I loved you. I loved you more than anything. How could I have betrayed you like that? How could I have done that to all of you?” Her voice was strangled with the tears that she tried to hold in.

Her words cut Michael like a thousand tiny shards of glass. He was bleeding inside and he couldn’t make it stop. He had to make it stop. And suddenly he was furious with her. She had done this to him, with her refusal to let go of the past. She just had to find out the truth, no matter who it ended up hurting. And it had hurt him. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to yell at her that she’d ruined everything. He wanted to push her so far away that she could never hurt him like this again.

But when he moved to grab her, it changed. He looked into her tear-filled eyes and saw the pain there. Pain that matched his own. He wanted to blot that pain out. He wanted to make it all go away.

Don’t fall away

And leave me to myself

Don’t fall away

And leave love bleeding in my hands

In my hands again

And leave love bleeding in my hands

In my hands again

Love lies bleeding

He kissed her then. He hadn’t planned it. He’d meant to tell her to go home. He’d meant to curse at her and drive her away. But that first touch had undone him. He felt as if everything was slipping away. The one thing he couldn’t let slip away was Isabel. So he pulled her closer. He felt her arms slip around his neck. He felt her body mold to his. And he knew. This was right. This was destiny. She was his. She always had been.

He blotted out her pain with his hands. She blotted out his pain with her lips. Their bodies moved together in a rhythm beyond memory, beyond dream.

He looked into her eyes as she cried out in release and felt that pain hit him again. He couldn’t lose her. He would do anything to keep her safe. And then he let go of the pain and the fear and just let himself feel. And his cries joined with hers.

And I wanted

You turned away

You don’t remember

But I do

You never even tried

Light flashed and he was blinded. When he could see again, the ground around him was littered with bodies. His army was falling. The word had already come from the palace. The King was dead. His best friend was dead. Nobody knew where his beloved Vilandra was, but he could guess. The thought of her in the arms of the man who had destroyed everything that they had fought so hard for—his fury spurred him to fight harder.

The hardest part of it was that he knew he had no right to feel betrayed. He knew she had been trying to convince Kvar to agree to a compromise. That was how it had all started. He’d known, even if she didn’t, that there was no way Kvar would bend. But he hadn’t even tried to tell her that. He’d been too angry, too hurt. So he’d done what he always did when he was disappointed in her. He shut her out and turned to another. And his reward had been just. She’d finally turned to another, too. At least if she was with Kvar, she would be safe. She would live on even if the rest of them died. Rath could live with that.

The battle had been raging on for what seemed like hours. He was tired. A part of him was ready to give up. And then he heard it. He thought he must be hallucinating. Then he prayed that he was hallucinating. Because it was her. She was calling out to him. He turned and saw her running toward him, her gown torn, tears streaming down her face. He tried to yell to her, to tell her to run.

It was too late.

Another flash of light blinded him. When he looked for her again, she was gone. He forgot about the fighting then. He abandoned his men. He searched among the bodies, rolling over one lifeless corpse after another, fearing that the next one he turned would be hers.

Then he found her. Her body wasn’t lifeless yet. But it was close. Her life’s blood ran in rivers over her clothes, over his hands. Her eyes locked onto his and he could not look away. Her eyes pleaded for understanding. They pleaded for forgiveness.

Her voice, when it came, was only a whisper. “I love you. Only you. I’m so sorry.” Her tears flowed and mingled with blood.

He cried then, he crushed her to his chest and begged her not to leave him. He told her he was the one who was sorry. Sorry for shutting her out. Sorry for the countless women he’d bedded to hurt her. He kissed her and talked to her about the plans he’d made for their wedding. The plans he’d made for their children.

And he watched as her breathing slowed. He watched her body go still and her eyes grow cold and still.

And then he screamed.

Don’t fall away

And leave me to myself

Don’t fall away

And leave love bleeding in my hands

In my hands again

And leave love bleeding in my hands

In my hands again

Love lies bleeding

Michael stifled the scream as his body jerked awake. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might explode. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was. The smell of smoke and blood was so fresh, so real. Then he heard Isabel murmur in her sleep. He remembered. He remembered falling asleep with her in his arms after they’d made love.