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sharply, and he started pacing in short strides in an effort to walk it off.
    One more time she repeated the plaintive question. “Why did you not return to me, Aristos?”
    He rounded on Emma, staring at the regal countenance of Juliana herself. Not literally, but the words and timbre of voice coming from Emma were no longer her own. And years of pent-up grief, and heartbreak, and longing, welled up inside of him; he couldn’t hold back the torrent of feeling.
    “Why didn’t I come back for you?” he cried out, not trying to censor his reaction. “Because you were long gone! Damn, I was hardly gonna hang around after that.”
    Emma jerked back on the sofa as if he’d slapped her, blinking in stinging reaction. “This manner in which you speak is unfamiliar to me. I don’t understand these coarse words. When is this time?”
    Oh, double, triple shit. What am I supposed to say to that one?
    “Uh, Emma?” Ari tried, never taking his gaze off of her. “You in there still? Emma, I think I need . . . a little help.”
    Cecilia moved to his side very quickly. “Aristos, listen very carefully to me,” she said, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “You don’t have to tell her how long she’s been gone, or how she died. She does not seem to understand her fate.”
    “She knows who you and Emma are, and that I’m here. . . . Why doesn’t she realize when she . . . you know ?” he hissed.
    “Juliana’s perceptions are not grounded in time and space. Some facts are clear, others very murky,” Cecilia explained in a low voice. “Be cautious with her.”
    When Ari gave her a desperate glance, Cecilia added, “If she’s confused about her past, actual details might upset her.”
    He nodded and was about to attempt a bland, openended answer to Juliana’s queries, when Emma cried out. She doubled over, pressing both hands against her temples with a moan. River knelt down in front of her immediately, murmuring words that Ari couldn’t make out. The buzzing energy in his own brain had become much louder, deafening, until it blocked out all other sounds.
    Emma looked in his direction, her dazed eyes filled with anxiety. “Juliana’s pushing at my mind. She wants to enter me, speak through me . . . touch through me. Before, I was only repeating her words, but now she’s trying to force her way into my mind and body.”
    “Just tell me what she says. I can’t deal with anything more, Emma.”
    He bolted as far away from Emma as he could without leaving the room, backing toward the fireplace. The posture was his military default—the need to secure his rear, positioning himself where he could see and thwart any impending attack. Current events definitely felt like one hell of an assault.
    Emma wrapped both arms about herself as if hoping to bar the ghostly spirit from invading her body. “She’s too strong, Ari. She’s insisting, and . . . she needs to see you. To touch you. I can’t keep her out.”
    A cold chill chased down his spine as if he’d just been blasted by an arctic wind. His whole body trembled; he shivered like Emma herself was doing. He backed up another step, the fireplace mantel jabbing into his back.
    Emma’s head lifted once again, her pale blue eyes—ones that were identical to those Juliana had possessed—locking on him with a vibrant, magnetic gaze. Emma’s not the one looking at me anymore , he realized.
    Only one woman had ever studied him with that kind of fire blazing in her rare gaze. Juliana Tiades. “I think I’m losing it,” he muttered, rubbing his sweating forehead, but nobody seemed to hear.
    With a regal sweep of her right hand, Juliana rose to her feet, standing tall and confidently proud. The refined posture was hauntingly familiar, just as Emma was hauntingly gone from her own body. Ari jerked backward, the mantel pushing hard against his spine. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and Juliana continued walking toward him, that graceful glide the same as it had been more