Dylan's frown deepened as disbelief took hold of him. He reread the message, his mind refusing to accept it. "No traces? How can that be possible?"
Memories of his past life rushed in—fragments of pain, betrayal, and a slow, agonizing death. That poison had been lethal, killing both him and Thomas. It was supposed to be unmistakable.
"This doesn't make sense," Dylan murmured. His mind felt like a chaotic storm. "I'm missing something... but what? Why can't I remember?"
His fingers absently rubbed his jaw as he tried to dig deeper into the recesses of his mind. With his pinched brow, Dylan closed his eyes. He tried to recall his nightmare in as much detail as possible. The first thing he remembered was the faceless woman, who had often haunted him in his dreams.
As her shadowy form emerged in his memory, Dylan's breath hitched. His eyes flew open, panic surging through him. Cold sweat pricked on his spine.
