𝔸𝕧𝕒

I awkwardly make my way through the doorway on crutches with two restaurant staffers in tow.

Zane asked me to bring Daniella, a petite chef with a blonde pixie cut, and Eric, a waiter with tan skin and black spiky hair. I'm not really sure why he needed these two specifically, but there wasn't a lot of time for questions.

"Wait here," I say to them as I hobble toward the bedroom.

I stop in the doorway and both Zane and Kieran look my way. Their body language is odd and stiff and they both look at me with the same gaping expression.

"Um... I brought Daniella and Eric, they're in the kitchen. Should I bring them in here?" I ask, unsure why they're staring at me like I've got snakes for hair.

Zane blinks at me for a moment, seeming to forget the relative urgency of the situation. I look around for Jen but don't immediately see her.

"Where's Jen?" I ask.

That seems to snap Zane out of his daze and he shakes his head, jumping up from the edge of the bed.

"Jen fainted," he says, walking to the other side of the bed and lifting up an unconscious Jen in his arms. "I think she just got overwhelmed. Can you look after her while I deal with Kieran?"

I nod as he carries Jen into the living room and sets her down on the sofa. I sit down on the loveseat beside her.

"Daniella, Eric," he says to our two guests. "You two remember Kieran, right? Come with me..."

He leads them back to the bedroom and closes the door behind them. I look to Jen, who seems to be sleeping soundly.

After a minute, Zane emerges from the bedroom and sits down beside me. He sighs and combs his fingers through his hair, sweeping a few messy strands out of his face.

"Have you called an ambulance?" I ask, and his eyes raise to meet mine.

He traces my shape as if he's analyzing me, trying to solve a puzzle of some sort.

"Daniella and Eric are..." He pauses, pinching his lips together in thought. "They both know Kieran and they will take care of him. He'll be fine."

"Do they have some sort of medical training or something?"

"They have, uh..." he says, chuckling a bit. "Kieran has special health issues that those two are both qualified to handle."

A high-pitched moan comes from the bedroom and my head snaps in that direction.

"Are they doing... what I think they're doing?" I ask, my face contorting in disgust.

Zane smirks and cringes simultaneously.

"It's complicated," he says. "Don't overthink it—he'll be fine."

I keep going back and forth between thinking these people are totally normal and almost certainly in the mob. People showing up with massive injuries and refusing to go to the hospital is firm evidence in the mob column.

Not really sure what kind of mob uses high-end restaurant workers as doctors, though. That is—if what they're doing in there is doctoring.

Eww.

I turn back to Zane, whose eyes are still locked on me.

What are you staring at? Is there something on my face?

"Have you remembered anything?" he asks.

"I uh... I'm not sure..."

How do you even know if your memory is coming back or if you're just reminded of something that had been stored away in your brain?

"Any particularly visual memories? Like brief video clips, one after the other?"

"You say this like you've been through this before."

He furrows his brow, waiting for me to answer his question.

"This morning," I say. "Jen showed me the flashcard of Mike and I remembered a bunch of stuff. It was a lot like what you described."

He grumbles slightly and looks me over, almost studying me. His face is stern but I see an unmistakable vulnerability in his eyes.

Before I can register what I'm doing, my hand reaches out and caresses the side of his face. His gaze holds mine and he freezes at the unexpected gesture.

I tug my hand back in embarrassment and I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks.

Oh my god, Ava, why are you touching this guy's face? Way to respect personal space. Why am I so awkward?

"I'm sorry, I..." I mumble. "I don't know why I did that... I didn't mean to... I..."

"Has that happened before?" he asks.

"You mean, am I randomly going around touching people's faces? No, that was just... okay I don't know what that was. Let's just pretend that never happened."

"No. Have you had any strange physical feelings like that before?" he asks. "Like your body was acting on its own?"

"Um..." I say, pausing to think. "I mean, when Mike tried to kiss me I felt really uncomfortable and nauseous and then... well, threw up on him."

"You're probably allergic to dickheads." Zane smirks and looks up at me through his lashes and my stomach flips and flutters in response.

It's very hard to try and act cool when this guy is giving me a permanent case of the butterflies.

"Probably," I say with a chuckle. I smile before doing my best fake sneeze.

"Oy, cheeky," he scolds, laughing a bit. "You're not that funny, you know that?"

"I know—I'm downright hilarious."

He stares deeply into my eyes and I feel the sudden urge to kiss him.

Why not? I mean, he is technically my boyfriend, right?

Before I chicken out, I wrap a hand around the side of his neck and lean in, pressing my lips against his. His tense muscles instantly relax beneath my touch and he melts into our kiss, clinging to me as if I were his sole source of oxygen.

"Phew!" a voice calls. We both startle and break away from the kiss, turning to see Kieran emerging from the bedroom in just his boxers. The place on his stomach where his wound was is now seemingly repaired, albeit still covered in blood.

"That was a close one," he says with a sigh, walking over to the kitchen bar and pouring himself a glass of water.

I'm baffled by his miraculous recovery.

Should I have been going to a chef instead of doctors this whole time?

Kieran looks to Zane and me as we awkwardly fidget and do our best to not act suspicious.

"What?" he asks. "What'd I miss?"

ℤ𝕒𝕟𝕖

I lean up against the wall in the lobby of the doctor's office as I hear the distinctive tapping of Kami's heeled boots against the floor.

"Why are we meeting here?" she asks. "Is Ava okay?"

"Ava's fine, she's just in for a follow-up. What did you find out?"

"Honestly? A whole lot of nothing. I talked to every Immortal medical expert I can find and the good news is, they all seem to think she'll get her memory back over time."

"And the bad news?"

"That's all they seem to know. They don't know when or how. It's pretty rare to be the marked human mate of a Siren, rarer still to be one who has ingested lethe. They've never seen a case like hers and everyone seems pretty stumped."

"That's just bloody perfect..."

"Come on, Z," she says, patting me on the back. "This is good news! You'll get Ava back, it just may take a while. You're 200 years old, what's waiting a bit longer?"

She has a point.

"Check me out!" Ava says, emerging from the hallway with no crutches or cast to be seen.

"Hey, Ava!" Kami says. "You already got your cast off?"

"Apparently I'm a fast healer!" she says with a big smile. "I'm pretty sure that's the first time a doctor has ever said that. The only thing my body is usually good at is gathering obscure symptoms."

"Good sign," Kami whispers to me under her breath.

*****

The sharp scent of chlorine hangs in the cool air. With each stroke, the water parts and my body is propelled forward. I thought a swim would distract me from my thoughts, but the quiet has just amplified them.

I've never been the impatient type, but after just over a week I'm desperate to have the old Ava back.

How is it that I've been alive for two hundred years and yet it feels like my whole life happened in just one?

I stop at the end of the pool and prop myself up on the edge, resting my elbows on the tile trim. I pull myself out and grab a nearby towel, running it through my hair.

An odd sensation pulls my attention and I turn to see Ava watching me through the window. Her eyes scan my body until she catches me looking her way and she quickly looks away.

So much for not being your type, eh love?

Usually it would be a bonus that I could feel her arousal, but under the current circumstances, it's a bit more of a curse than a gift.

As I walk into the house, Ava's gaze follows me and she nibbles slightly on her bottom lip.

Bloody hell.

I make a beeline for the shower and crank the handle all the way toward cold. The icy water washes over me and shocks my senses. It does a decent job of distracting me from the urges building in me—whether they're Ava's or my own.

I let out a heavy sigh.

Ava needs to get her memory back soon, because this limbo is driving me insane. She's herself, and yet, she's not. It's as if I'm cheating on Ava—with Ava. When we kissed yesterday, it only complicated things further.

I step out of the shower and pat myself down with a towel before wrapping it around my waist. I walk back into the bedroom to find Ava lying on her stomach and reading on the bed. She's wearing tiny black shorts, black thigh-high socks, and a loose gray sweater that hangs just off her shoulder.

This woman is going to be the death of me.

"Uh.. Wha.. Er..." I stutter. My mouth has gone instantly dry and my brain has shut down. "What are y- you doing... here?"

"The bedroom?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh..." I say, my eyes raking along her figure.

Fuck.

"No, I mean..." I shake my head from side to side. "You were just in the living room."

"I felt like it would be more comfortable," she says.

Her stare migrates down my chest and what I'm feeling tells me she probably didn't come in here just for comfort.

Come on, Zane, fuck. You're the king of control. You can handle this.

"Do you want me to leave?" she asks.

"No, I was er... just getting in the shower."

So much for being the king of control.

"Didn't you just get out of the shower?" she asks.

"Yeah, er... I did but I like to take two showers because um," I say, slowly walking backward into the bathroom. "You know how they say you're supposed to take multiple showers for the uh, you know... muscle stuff to er... with the blood flow and all that."

I sound mental.

My heel hits the doorframe and I stumble slightly but regain my balance.

"Zane," she says, standing up and walking over to me. "Don't lie to me, okay? If you're uncomfortable around me it's totally fine to ask me to leave."

"No, I, that's not it," I say with a sigh. "I just want to give you your space."

It's mostly true, although there's something else I'm more interested in giving her.

Bloody brain.

"I don't need space," she says. "I know this whole thing is weird and there's clearly plenty of details I don't understand, but we'll work it out. Are you sure I'm not making you uncomfortable?"

My mind is clouded with my own lust as well as Ava's.

Uncomfortable is not the word I'd use.

"No, love," I say. "You're just fine. It's all me, I'm just all up in my own head right now."

She takes a step closer to me and brushes a strand of hair from my face. In one fluid motion, our lips meet and she pushes me against the doorframe. I grab her by the hips and tug her body into mine, her warmth and touch igniting a fire deep in my chest.

I scoop her up into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist as I leave a line of kisses along her neck. I set her down on the bed and my lips find hers again, but she suddenly pulls back.

"I can't..." she says softly. Her breathing is ragged and she blinks a few times, still holding my gaze.

"Shit, Ava, I..."

"No, Zane, that's not what I meant. That's what you said when we kissed—'I can't.'"

"I didn-" I begin to say, but I pause to process what she's saying.

If she's not talking about yesterday, that means...

She remembers.