“I think I am going to die soon.”

Muse looked up from where she was sitting on the floor. Michael had sat there in silence for hours now, staring at the ground. She had done the same, not wanting to look up at him. It only made her more confused than she already was. That was all she needed, confusion on top of all the other messes she had to deal with. Running a hand through her blue hair, she pushed it back away from her face - why she bothered, she didn’t know. It always wound up exactly where it always was.

“Oh,” was all she could think of to say.

Michael cracked his neck to one side and shifted with a painful look on his face, tilting his head back to look up at the beams of the ceiling. “God chose this for me. I shouldn’t second-guess him.”

“You honestly think God chose for you to be tortured and maimed?” Muse snorted. “You’ve got one messed up God, then, Champ.”

Muse tried not to laugh as Michael shot her a glare that she could only presume was supposed to be threatening. “Don’t blaspheme.”

She began debating the texture of the floor again. “You think God cares what I say? He gave up on me a long, long time ago.” She could feel his eyes still on her, and she hated it. She felt like she was being judged. It was the same kind of feeling she got when Isaac would stare at her. She decided not to tell the Crusader that.

“You really think that.”

A statement, not a question.

Finally looking at him, Muse wished she hadn’t. She had expected a cold detachment like the sorcerer’s, or righteous superiority. She could have dealt with those - was prepared to deal with those. She was not prepared to deal with the wounded look on his face.

“Well… I mean, look at me…” Muse shuffled her boot, kicking a piece of gravel across the cement. She felt almost embarrassed for her comment, he had taken it so personally. “Dead, numb, being kept in the service of an asshole who’s confusing at best.”

“We all have choices. You could choose not to obey him.”

Muse snorted. “Oh, sure, easy for you to say - you don’t get electrocuted. That hurts, y’know? It hurts a lot. I really don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I could, what? Fight? He’d destroy me.”

“But you would have stood up for what you believed in,” Michael shook his head. “It’s the choices we make that lead us to where we go.”

“So you chose to wind up as a Crusader, tied to a chair.” She had trouble believing that. But she was glad to get the conversation away from herself.

“I was chosen by God.”

“So we make our own choices unless God chooses for us.” Muse leaned back against the pole and picked at the fishnets on the back of her arm. “That’s kind of hypocritical, Mike.”

“Maybe my dogma isn’t perfect, Muse… but it’s certainly better than living in the service of a madman. He doesn’t care for you at all, you realize. Once you’re useless to him, or worse - once you get in his way, he’ll dispose of you.”

“You were trying to put me in a bottle, jackhole.”

Michael paused. “I’m not being very convincing, am I?”

For some reason, that made Muse laugh. She was surprised to find him laughing with her. That was one thing she also couldn’t cope with - he had a sense of humor. He was human. He wasn’t some tin-armored boogeyman trying to lop her limbs off. It would be so much easier if he was.

Then she wouldn’t feel so horrid for letting him rot.

She stood up, walked across the floor and sat down in front of him, Indian style. Looking up at him, she hoped her doubt wasn’t as obvious on her face as it felt. “I know Isaac’s not going to win any Nobel Prizes for humanitarianism…”

That drew a snort out of his throat.

“But I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t,” she finished.

“No, Muse… you’re wrong.” Michael leaned forward as far as he could before the restraints stopped him. Suddenly, Muse felt like she was nailed to the spot, pinned there by nothing more than the man’s apparent concern. “You are damned if you continue this way… thinking that just because you are told to do these things, you aren’t responsible for it. You will suffer if you resist him if you choose to do the right thing… but God will see your sacrifice. God will reward you.”

Muse shut her eyes and vanished. She was glad that she could hide when she wanted to. “I wish I could believe you, Mike.”

“I hope you do, someday.” Michael leaned back, growling in pain as his muscles tensed up suddenly. “I hope that I am around to see it,” he chuckled bitterly.

Muse drifted back to the wall and settled down, trying not to think about what he had said. But, like watching scary movies at night and wondering if the zombie was hiding behind the shower curtain, the spectre of her ‘choice’ was looming at the edge of her mind. Muse tried to shove it to the back and let her thoughts wander away. She didn’t make it far.

Raucous footsteps came crashing down the stairs, pulling her out of her mind and back to the present. She looked up at Victor, who was walking across the concrete, grinning his usual flashy smile at Michael.

“Hey asshole, how’s it goin’?”

“Unholy beast, leave me be,” he snarled up at the vampire.

“Yo, Muse-” Victor called, turning his head around to look for her. She took shape near him, causing him to leap back. “Damn, girl! C’mon, you gotta stop doing that.” He ruffled her hair playfully, grinning down at her. “How are you holding up?”

“Eh, I’m tired… otherwise fine.” It was a lie, but she told it well. Michael was starting to get to her, but not in the way she would have expected. Irritated she could have dealt with. ‘Gut-wrenching’ was probably not the proper turn of phrase when one didn’t have intestines.

“Can’t imagine. Well don’t worry, it’ll be all over in about-” He checked his watch. “Ooh, half an hour or so.” Victor grinned back at the Crusader, flashing his fangs. “We’re going to finish these dickweeds off once and for all.”

Michael began to struggle with whatever strength he had left, thrashing against the chains and swearing at the blond vampire. Victor only snickered and slung an arm around Muse’s shoulder. “Hun, I don’t know how you dealt with this dude all week. Isaac ought to give you a medal or some shit.”

“Yeah,” was her brilliant reply. “Half an hour?”

“Oh yeah - Eric caught on to a signal about Uriel and Azrael coming to save Mikey-boy here. They were paging backup. Somehow, we don’t know how, they managed to figure out where we are. So we’re going to get ‘em before they get us.”

“Huh.” Half an hour and the rest of the Crusaders would be dead. Michael included, she had no doubt.

“Isaac said he wants you to keep guarding Mikey. We’re going to come down for him in a bit, and then you can buck off and sleep.” Victor ran his hand back over Muse’s hair, smiling down at her with a strange, soft look in his eyes that Muse couldn’t grasp the meaning of.

Muse only nodded in reply. Victor patted her on the back and turned, heading up the stairs. She could only stand and watch Michael as he struggled. As soon as the door shut, Michael’s rage vanished, his head tilting down, his frame shaking with the silent sobs.

Muse disappeared. Somehow not being visible made it less awkward.

“I’m sorry…” she said. She knew it was meaningless, but she meant it. She wasn’t even sure if Michael had heard her.

“Wait fer the cue.”

“But they’re right there.”

“It don’ matter, wait for the goddamn cue, Fangface.”

“Will you two shut up? Seriously.”

“Eh, go sit on it, Gizmo.”

“For - Oh. Aw crap. Here we go.”

“Fuggin’ predictable.”

“Wait…. Wait…”

“Go!”

Every once and a while you get one of those moments in your life where you try and trace back the domino effect that led you there. Where it all started, where it all went right - or most likely - where it all went wrong.

This was one of those moments.

Muse stood next to Victor, half-hiding behind the vampire. Everyone was called out for this. Standing in the grass behind the house, she watched the scene before her like a scene in a movie. It was too bizarre to be real.

Uriel, the short-haired older Crusader, was on his knees in front of Mal, arms tied behind his back and shirtless. Next to him knelt Azrael, who was bound in a similar fashion, although stapled - yes, Muse realized to her disgust - stapled to its chest was a piece of paper with some strange writing and a symbol on it. Whatever the paper did, she didn’t dare ask.

Michael was kneeling in the grass in front of Victor, his hands chained behind his back. Victor was gripping the Crusader’s shoulder, keeping him from lunging forward. Although Muse knew it was pointless, Michael was too weak to stand up under his own power - let alone attack anyone. Although if anything could make him muster the strength, his obvious hatred for Isaac would do it.

Suddenly reminded of the sorcerer, Muse turned her attention to him. The look on his face was the same stoic detachment that he always seemed to have. She would have been happier if Isaac looked even somewhat smug about this. Maybe an evil laugh and a nice line from a Vincent Price movie. Anything but the inhuman glassy nature with which he stood there, arms folded behind his back, observing the scene in front of him like it was a daily occurrence.

“You have become too much of an annoyance,” Isaac said quietly, looking down at Michael. “And it is time for me to finally rid myself of you.”

Michael struggled weakly and made a small cry of pain as Victor dug his fingers harder into his shoulder. “Isaac, stop and think about what you’re doing! Murdering-”

“Ah, Michael… ever trying to be the savior. Ever the hero. Ever the knight in shining armor.” Isaac reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ivory handled pocket knife. Giving it a clean flick, he smiled thinly down at him. The smile never reached his eyes. “Yes. I will let you die last.”

Muse repressed a shudder at the sight of the knife. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to look away, tried to count the blades of grass between her feet. But like passing a train wreck, she couldn’t help herself. Especially not when she heard a familiar noise that set her on edge.

The sound of a knife entering flesh.

Looking up, she saw Isaac standing behind Azrael, one hand pulling its head back, the other having stabbed the blade through its neck. Blood, darker than the red that it should have been, gurgled and spurted from the wound, soaking the grass around Azrael’s knees.

Isaac yanked the blade out of the Crusader’s neck, the liquid dripping off of the blade. He pulled out his handkerchief and began to clean the blade as Azrael slumped lifelessly to the ground, blood pooling and oozing around the blades of grass, making them look like miniature reeds sticking out of some grotesque pond.

Muse’s mind was blank. What she saw in front of her completely emptied her of all her thoughts. She felt detached like she was now watching someone else. Idly, Muse wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like.

Isaac stepped up to Uriel, who was struggling violently and thrashing. One hard punch to the back of the shoulders from Mal stopped any progress he might have been making. The older man wheezed in pain and would have doubled over if the bigger man had let him.

Twirling the blade deftly through his fingers with practiced ease, Isaac looked down at the Uriel. “It will make me sad to see you go, as you were one of the first… A shame, really. What now that Zadkiel is dead as well. Ah, the curse of being immortal.”

“Damn you, you soulless beast…” Uriel snarled through the pain at the grey figure that loomed over him.

“Most likely too late for that.”

Isaac reached down and dug the tip of the blade into the Crusader’s chest. Red liquid pooled and oozed down his skin slowly like water down a pane of glass. Isaac slowly pulled the knife up, drawing a neat red line from below his ribs to the center of his chest. He slowly dragged the knife up to one side, and then returning to the point, drew the knife up again, creating a large oozing Y across his chest.

Uriel seemed to be doing his best to stay conscious. “What the hell are you doing?! You sick bastard!” Michael roared.

All eyes were suddenly on Muse. Blinking, she tried to figure out why. Muse suddenly realized that she had spoken. She hadn’t meant to, but she had.

“What was that, my dear?” Isaac asked her.

She stammered uselessly before realizing what it was that she had said. Swallowing hard, she repeated herself.

“Autopsy…”

“Very clever. Indeed, you are right.” Isaac almost sounded pleased with her, like she was some student who finally answered a question right. It only succeeded in making her feel the more ill. “I thought perhaps I would save the Vatican’s coroner some time, seeing as I have most certainly overburdened him - or her. Call it professional courtesy.”

If that was a joke, it seemed to go unappreciated by everyone. Muse stepped forward without realizing it, staring down at the blood that ran down Uriel’s chest, soaking into his dark pants. Shaking her head, she tried to clear it, tried to get back into her own mind. She felt like she was lost in some weird dream.

Michael’s shouts of rage became sobs once again as the man hopelessly thrashed. He let out another howl of pain as Isaac lifted the blade, ready to drive it through Uriel’s throat.

Before she realized it, a pair of sharp grey eyes were angrily glaring at her. It took her a moment that someone was holding onto Isaac’s arm, preventing the strike. That ‘someone’ was her.

“Yes, Muse?” Isaac clipped.

“Don’t,” she choked out.

“This is hardly the time to become squeamish. If you are wanting to discuss my treatment of them, we can do so at length in a few moments, child.” Isaac shoved her back roughly, causing her to stagger and land in the grass.

Face down, she groaned and pushed herself up to her knees. She heard Eric next to her make some sort of disgusted noise. She pulled her hands up and looked down to see that they were covered in blood. Dark red, too dark - like it was half coagulated.

She had landed face down in what remained of Azrael. She looked down at the blood that covered her and let out some broken moan. Muse vanished, reappearing a few feet away, shaking her head no as she backed away from the puddle of blood. In a small miracle, the blood had not traveled with her.

Something in her snapped. Something had had enough. She turned to Isaac and tore the blade out of his hand. He began to talk, but she cut him off. “No. I will not be party to this!”

“Then go inside,” he growled fiercely. He pulled the glasses off of his face and stepped towards her dangerously. Whatever in her that had broken had removed any fear from her. “And we will talk later.”

“No. I can’t let you torture them… I can’t let you-”

“You question us now?! Look around yourself, child! You have been part of this little family of murderers and monsters for some time now.” Isaac grabbed her by the hair. Letting out a small squeal, Muse was suddenly wrenched around so that she was forced to face Victor and the others. With his other hand, he wrenched the knife from her grasp and held it up in front of her, the moonlight glinting off of the metal blade.

Her back to Isaac, he held the edge of the knife to her throat. She let out a quiet sob as he did, shivering in his grasp. Somewhere in her mind, it registered that the knife couldn’t hurt her - but it didn’t matter. The blood on the blade looked all too familiar. Isaac bent his head down and began to talk, his words an angry hiss. “Your conscience has come a little too late. These are what you call friends. You are a monster like they are. Or have you forgotten that? Have you forgotten what the Crusaders tried to do to you? What they tried to do to your little fanged paramour?!”

“I- I-” Her conviction suddenly seemed pathetic. Empty, weak, useless, she felt any strength she had leave her. “I can’t… let you… Isaac, please.”

“Enough,” Isaac pushed her forward roughly. She staggered again and found herself being held up by Victor, who had rushed to catch her. She looked up into his green eyes and saw nothing but worry and fear.

“I will not have you further jeopardizing this.” Isaac touched the necklace through his shirt. Muse screamed as pain crawled through her body. Victor jumped back suddenly, letting out a startled cry of his own.

Muse expected it to stop, expected it to lessen as it always had. But this time, it didn’t. The pain continued, worsened. Suddenly, blissfully, her world went to blackness.

Victor watched helplessly as Muse slumped to the grass, he himself shaking his hand to try and get rid of the weird electrical prickling. Isaac had hurt her. Hurt her bad. But now was not the time to speak up. Kneeling down, he shook her shoulder lightly but got no response. Suddenly, she vanished altogether. Victor jumped back reflexively.

“Now, if we are done with our little interruptions…”

The sound of a gunshot rocked through the field, causing the men to duck. Life apparently was just insisting on getting more and more complicated.

“Get down!” Mal yelled as more gunfire unloaded into the field.

Victor looked up as Isaac snarled in anger. A bullet had gone straight through the sorcerer’s shoulder, opening a hole a good two inches in diameter clean through him. Victor winced again as another volley of bullets rained into the field. This time he was thankful for Isaac, as the other man had held out his hand, the bullets now pinging harmlessly off of an invisible shield.

“The Vatican’s soldiers - there are - are fifty of them,” Eric said from his crouched position, his heavily modified gun in his hand. He pulled the goggles down over his face sharply, fidgeting with the dials on the side.

“Well, that juss’ proves it. They know where we live!” Victor stayed low, swiveling his head around. “Where’s Muse?”

Isaac ignored him. “Move.” Isaac began walking back toward the house. “And I suggest quickly. I can’t hold the shield much longer.”

Victor started running towards the house, Eric close behind and Mal jogging ahead. Isaac simply walked, his back to the gunfire, completely unconcerned. The man never seemed concerned about a damn thing. Victor didn’t know if that was comforting or just further proof the man had checked out of humanity a long time ago.

“What about them?!” Mal yelled over the gunfire, pointing back at Michael and Uriel.

“We will get another chance,” Isaac replied quietly. The look on his face sent an uneasy feeling through Victor. He wasn’t stoic. The look on his face was one of dark rage that he’d never seen before. Victor suddenly wished he’d go back to being stoic.

Isaac walked through the back door of the house. He stood still for a moment and shut his eyes. Holding out his hands, he tilted his head back slowly.

“Hey, Boss? Boss?! The soldiers are advancing on the house!” Victor yelled over yet another reign of bullets - the window near his head shattered. He dropped low and hissed angrily, his fangs out. He watched as Eric ducked down behind the counter in the center of the kitchen, and let loose a clip out the window.

“Boss!” Victor yelled - and found himself screaming through absolute silence. He blinked and cautiously peeked out the window. All the noise from outside had stopped. He stood up slowly. It was sunset. How was it sunset? It was pitch black just a few seconds ago.

He blinked suddenly as he realized Isaac was walking away, towards the stairs. Victor knew that wherever Muse was, Isaac was about to hurt her. Victor wanted to scream. Isaac was furious, and that only spelled pain for her. But if Victor did anything to stop the sorcerer, all he would succeed in doing would be causing himself pain alongside her.

“Perhaps you should all go for a walk, the sunset looks like it will be spectacular. I do love watching the sunset over the ocean,” Isaac said calmly, but Victor could hear the undercurrent of rage under his words.

“Yo Boss, are you nuts?! With them outside?!” Mal scoffed.

Eric shook his head slowly, staring at the backyard. “Dude, look at the sky… it was dark a second ago… and… shit… the sun doesn’t set into the ocean in New York…”

“But they were just shootin’ at us a second ago!”

“They are quite a ways away. I highly doubt their bullets reach that far,” the sorcerer replied.

Isaac walked up the stairs and all Victor could do was watch. Victor gripped his hair in both hands. There was nothing he could do. Nothing. Muse was about to enter a world of pain and he was helpless.

“Boss… what’re you going to do?” he asked quietly.

“There is a lesson to be learned, Victor,” Isaac replied. “And I plan on teaching it. I would recommend not getting involved.”

“Don’t… don’t mess her up, please.”

“Only if I have to.”

And with that, Isaac was gone. Victor heard the door to the study click shut. He sat down on the kitchen floor, his back against the cabinets, his head in his hands. He prayed to anyone who would listen that she’d be okay.

Mal grunted and got up, and walked to the kitchen door. Opening it, he walked outside. “Shit… guys… come out here. I don’t believe it.”

“Did he teleport them away?” Eric asked and took a step outside. Whatever they were talking about, Victor didn’t really care.

“Not… fuggin’ exactly.” Mal replied. “Vic, Vic get off your ass and come see this.”

With a grunt, Victor stood up and took a step outside and looked out… at the ocean. He looked to the left and the right and found that their cemetery-side house was now a hundred feet from the ocean.

“He moved the whole house… The whole goddamn house…”

Isaac stood in the center of the room. He touched the necklace around his neck and with a loud thump, Muse impacted the ground in the middle of the carpet. “Get up,” he snarled. “Get up,” he demanded again.

Muse groaned and rolled onto her side, then shuddered as slowly the last remaining twinges of pain started to recede. Consciousness was slowly returning to her, and she honestly wished it hadn’t. It hurt. “What’d you do..?”

“I shut you down.”

Muse looked up and saw him staring down at her with a furious look in his eyes. He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over the back of his chair, rolling up the sleeves to his shirt. She wondering if he was planning on beating her with his bare hands. If anybody could make her feel pain, it certainly was Isaac.

“You can do that..?” Muse groaned and pushed herself up to her knees. “Of course you can do that.”

“What do you think you were doing?!” Isaac grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet. She yelped, and the pushed away from him, rubbing the back of her head - suddenly reminded she couldn’t feel that anyway. “What do you think you were doing, you stupid creature?!” Isaac yelled. “I could have ended them all!”

“I- I-“ She wanted to curl up in a corner and vanish. But she knew there was no hiding from him.

“Explain yourself,” he demanded again.

“I don’t know, okay? I couldn’t stand there and watch you torture people. Watch you-“ stab people. She couldn’t finish the sentence out loud, but she knew that was part of it. The blood. The knife. It was all too familiar. Not to mention, Michael. She couldn’t watch the poor bastard suffer anymore. She was right, she knew she was. She had made a choice, and she was sticking to it. “I don’t care what you do, you can’t make me stand there and watch you do something like that.” Muse ran her hand along her throat. “Kill them if you have to, but torturing somebody like that is just not right.”

Isaac turned around and punched his desk hard enough to put cracks in the glass top. Muse jumped at the sudden outburst. Fear crawled up her spine as she stood there frozen in shock. She had never seen him lose his temper. He was almost always frighteningly calm. Now he was… she was afraid to think about what he was right now. She wrapped her arms around herself. Isaac had lost his temper, and it was her fault. He was angry and she was on the receiving end of it. If she woke up in the morning, she’d be shocked.

Isaac stood there with his head lowered, long hair in his face, his fist still resting on his cracked desk. Slowly he began to talk, his voice was dark, hissing with anger. “I had hoped that you would have come around. That with time you would have become part of this… ‘family.’ That with time you would have learned your place.” Isaac turned his head to glare at her. “I had hoped that with time, Sasha Larue, you would have learned respect!”

That was what did it. Any fear and sensibility were drowned in a matching flood of anger. “Don’t you ever - ever - call me that!” Muse clenched her hands into fists.

“Whatever for?” Isaac sneered and stood up, turning to face her. “Whatever about your name torments you so? Or is that how you feebly deal with what you have become?”

“Screw you.”

“Ah, that is it, isn’t it?” Isaac walked up to her, staring down at her with his piercing grey eyes. “You didn’t die. She did. You disassociate yourself from your life so that you can cope with the fact that you were murdered,” he let out a low, sickening chuckle. “How weak minded of you…”

“Shut up, just - just shut the hell up!” She shoved him hard, succeeding in nudging him back a step. She shook her head and wished desperately she could punch him. The worst of it was, he might be right. “And what’re you, Isaac?! What have you become?! At least I’m numb on the outside! I’m dead. What’s your excuse for wandering around feeling nothing?!”

“You have no idea what you are talking about, child.”

“Oh? Do you even feel emotions? I guess you do, sorry. Hate, rage, and nothing. Screw you, Isaac - you mass-murdering psychopath - you don’t get to judge me,” she snapped at him furiously. “You don’t get to look down on me, you heartless asshole!”

Isaac snarled at her and tore the glasses off of his face and stepped towards her, grabbing her by the throat. “That is enough. It was a mistake bringing you here. A mistake I will easily enough rectify!”

He threw her away from him - hard enough to make her stagger. She managed to catch herself before she fell, and watched him as he turned his back to her and reaching around his neck. He pulled the necklace out from under the shirt and yanked, snapping the chain. He slammed it down onto the desk and, picking up a large carved rock from one side, brought it down onto the necklace.

The necklace shattered. Shards of crystal skittered across the desk.

Muse felt heat rush her body.

Heat.

Noise.

She fell to her knees and screamed - she tried to scream - but something was caught in her throat. Something wouldn’t work.

Isaac turned to watch her blankly and dropped the rock onto the carpet. He took a step towards her, a hand outstretched.

Heat.

Noise.

Drumming.

Muse tried to stand up. She stood up, and moved - and pain shot up her right leg.

She fell to the ground, and pain shot through her limbs. She kept trying to scream, but there was something burning in her. Why was there burning inside of her?! She pushed herself to her feet and felt the world spin dangerously. Staggering, she fell towards the door.

Heat.

Noise.

Drumming.

Pounding.

Pain - it hurt. She hurt. A horrible ache - an ache that went down to her core, down to her bones - her bones.

Heat.

Drumming.

Her hands hit the door and pain shot through her hands. She tried to get rid of her body, make it go away - and couldn’t. She tried to pass through the door. Nothing.

Heat.

Drumming.

Pounding.

Burning.

Isaac took a step towards her, his hand out to touch her. All rage was gone from his face, all anger lost. Concern and worry - maybe even fear replaced them, but she couldn’t register it. Burning. “Muse…”

Muse fumbled at the doorknob and finally threw it open. She staggered into the hallway - each step was sheer agony. The world spun around her as she headed towards the stairs.

“Muse!”

She couldn’t hear over the drumming in her head. The pounding. She felt heavy.

Heat. Then something else. A sudden cold rush hit her as she reached the top of the stairs. Her body prickled with the strange chill that poured through her. Suddenly everything seemed hyper-focused, all too clear.

“Muse…?” Victor stood at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up at her worried, seeing the panic on her face, her ragged breathing. “Muse are you okay..?”

Pounding.

Drumming.

And now this horrid prickling chill. She began to shiver - it was too cold.

It was too vivid.

Too sharp.

The world around her began to go black, the floor rushed up to meet her.

Victor yelped as he saw Muse’s eyes roll into her head. She tilted and begin to fall down the stairs. He rushed up with inhuman speed and caught her, and saw Isaac walking down the hallway towards them. Victor lowered her gently to the ground and cradled her in his arms. He looked down at her, and reached out and stroked her hair back. He pulled his hand back in shock. He could feel her pulse. He could smell her blood.

“Victor. What-”

“What did you do?!” Victor roared up at Isaac.

Isaac stood there blankly, staring down at Victor dumfounded.

Victor shook his head and leaned down. He leaned his head in close and heard her short, ragged breaths. He could hear something else, something low and rhythmic. He stroked her hair again gently and looked up at Isaac.

“She’s alive…”