ℤ𝕒𝕟𝕖

I walk into the pub and see Kieran behind the bar, serving an older gentleman with a beard.

"Hey, mate," I say, grabbing a seat at the bar. "You know where I could get a beer around here?"

"Nope," he says with a smile. "We don't serve dickheads here."

He smiles and pours me a Guinness from the tap.

"So you wanna tell me what the heck you did?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Kami has called me like, eight times since yesterday asking if I've talked to you. She wouldn't tell me what was going on."

"Oh yeah?" I ask. "I'm not sure what that would be about."

"Something went down once you guys called Lola, right?"

"Mmm," I mumble, diving into my beer.

"Well, I also got a call earlier from a certain purple-haired vixen looking for you too," he adds, leaning his elbows on the bar. "You want me to let her know you're here?"

"Ahh no thanks," I say, taking another sip.

"Ooh, trouble in paradise?" he asks. "Well, if she's on the market just let me know."

He smiles and winks at me.

"Go ahead, mate," I say. "All yours."

Kieran squints his eyes and leans on the bar again, looking me over like he's sizing me up.

In a flash, he has his hand laid palm-up on the bar holding a knife, its tip pointed at my chest. It's probably not capable of doing any damage to me, but it's hard to tell what kind of blade it is just by looking.

Shit.

"Who the fuck are you?" Kieran asks.

"Whoa, mate, hold on," I say, making eye contact in an attempt to calm him.

This is not how I expected an outing to the pub would go.

Kieran's eyes go black from edge to edge.

"Who... the fuck... are you?" he asks again, a vicious tone in his voice.

"It's me," I say. "It's Zane. I swear."

"Well, you're stupid but you're ballsy as shit, I'll give you that. What are you—A demon? A shifter?"

"I'm not a demon, mate."

"You're sure as fuck not fooling me wearing Zane's skin, I'll tell you that much."

He moves the knife closer to my chest, just touching the fabric of my shirt. Even if this knife couldn't pierce my skin, Kieran could still annihilate me if he wanted to.

"Okay, okay," I say. "It's me but uh, not entirely."

I reach slowly for my inner jacket pocket and delicately pull out the bottle with my fingertips, placing it on the bar.

"I may or may not have woken up with this," I say, pushing the bottle toward him.

"You," Kieran says with a pause, investigating the label. "...stupid fuck. What the hell did you do?"

"I don't know. I mean, that's kind of the point."

His jaw goes slack as he looks closer at the bottle. You can still just make out the word "Λήθη" on the faded and yellowed label.

"Tell me this isn't what I think it is..." he says with a shake of his head.

I nod.

"I guess I was desperate," I say.

"Desperate? No shit!" he says. "Desperate enough for lethe? That is what this is—isn't it?"

I nod again.

"Weren't you the one who warned me against using lethe? What happened to 'only idiots use lethe to forget their problems'? What happened to 'it's the worst comedown of your life'?"

He's not wrong. Lethe will make you forget for a while, but when those memories come back they hit you like a sledgehammer to the skull. Whatever I wanted to forget, it must have been bad. But the last thing I want to do is waste whatever time I have focusing on what I clearly didn't want to remember.

In a swift motion, he grabs a small pronged knife from behind the bar and stabs it hard down into the flesh between my thumb and forefinger.

"Bloody hell!" I say, flinching as the tip of the knife contorts and snaps off as it contacts my hand.

"Just making sure," he says with a smile. "Plus, it's fun to scare the shit out of you."

I lower my eyebrows and glare at him.

"You're hilarious, mate," I grumble.

"I've always thought so," he says with a smirk. "So how much did you forget?"

"Well, based on the date on my phone, about five years."

"Shit, Z-Man."

"I told you not to call me that," I say with a glare.

"Yeah, well now you've learned to love it," he says with a smile.

I doubt that.

"Does Kami know?" he asks.

"About the lethe? I'm not sure," I say. " I just woke up, found the bottle and this..."

I hold up my phone. It's a few years nicer than the one I'm used to. Turns out wiping your memory is a lot more convenient in the era of cell phones.

"I saw the date and did the math. Saw on my phone that your number was listed as 'Kieran/The Pike' so I was curious and found the place. You're a bartender now? How fitting."

"Beer and drunk hotties—my favorite things," he says with a smirk.

"I had a bunch of missed calls from Kami too, but I don't particularly feel like getting scolded right now," I say.

"Oh yeah, she's gonna kill you," he says with a bit of a smile that says he's finally enjoying me being the fuckup for a change.

Another customer down the bar waves to get Kieran's attention and he steps over to help him.

I take another drink of my beer and I hear a woman's footsteps approaching me from behind. A woman in a red button-up blouse and tight jeans takes the seat beside me at the bar.

Of course I've lured in a human without even trying. With everything I've got going on right now, I'm not interested in another meaningless conquest.

"Hey," she says with a soft voice.

"Hi," I say without turning to make eye contact.

Take a hint, lady.

"Have I seen you here before?" she asks.

Really? It seems there hasn't been a lot of innovation in pickup lines over the last five years.

"You know, I'm not sure, love," I say. "My memory's not so great these days."

I chuckle to myself at the bad inside joke.

"Can I buy you a drink?" she asks.

"Sure," I say. Now that I think about it, I don't know what else I'm supposed to do with my time.

Taking lethe is a short reprieve followed by a sharp plummet back into reality. Now I'm just biding my time, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's a bit torturous really. What could have possibly happened to me that could have made this seem like a good idea? I'm curious, but then again, I guess I don't want to know.

Kieran walks back over to us and asks the woman if she'd like a drink.

"A whiskey sour for me and whatever he'd like," she says, gesturing to me with her head.

"Erm, okay," Kieran says with narrowed eyes. "Another Guinness?"

"Sure, mate," I say, drinking down most of my current one.

He pours our drinks and passes them to us.

"You uh," Kieran says to me. "You have to get going soon, right bud?"

He raises his eyebrows as if he's trying to hint something to me. Whatever he's referencing is lost on me right now.

Do I know this woman? Or does he just want her for himself?

I turn to the woman in an attempt to discover any clues as to who she might be. She's about 30 with long, brown hair and a dark tan. She has long, ivory painted fingernails and no noticeable wedding ring.

"Um..." I say, trying to figure out what he's getting at. "Probably soon, yeah."

"Oh, really?" she asks, lightly touching my arm with her hand. "That's a shame."

"Don't worry, doll," Kieran says. "I'll be here to keep you company."

Ahh okay, he's just trying to get this one.

Fine. I honestly don't care.

The pub door jingles behind us as another patron enters the bar.

Kieran's eyes go wide and his skin turns pale.

"Fuck," he says under his breath.

I turn around to see a cute 20-something-year-old woman with vivid purple hair wearing a black-and-white striped shirt, ripped black jeans, and combat boots. She looks tired and there's something slightly off about her posture, like she's just lost a fight. A small tattoo peeks out from under her T-shirt sleeve, with another on her wrist.

This must be the purple-haired girl we were talking about when Kieran flipped out on me. Based on that reaction, it's safe to assume that this is going to be a delicate situation.

Her eyes connect with mine and I feel a deep sadness in them. I must have done something terrible to this woman.

Great.

Her eyes bounce back and forth between me and the woman next to me and her expression drops, then she tenses and walks toward us. She marches up in a forceful way that tells me she's not here because she wants to grab a bite and play some pool with us.

"Hey Ava," Kieran says with a smile, poorly masking an obvious discomfort. "Can I get you a drink?"

Who is this girl? And why does Kieran look like he's going to shit himself?

The girl's grey eyes stay firmly locked on me, her lips pursed and brows furrowed. There's something unique about her, but I'm not sure what. Ava. She's not familiar, per se, but there's something still drawing my focus to her.

"Who's your friend?" she asks.

"Oh, is this your girlfriend?" the woman asks, looking toward Ava.

I'm pretty sure the answer to that question is no, since the only thing I can truly discern about this girl Ava is that she really—really—hates my guts.

"Ava, he's not himself right now," Kieran says apologetically. "He's ju-"

"Kieran, I'm sorry," she says, holding up a flat palm toward him to cut him off. "This is between me and Zane right now."

"Okay," I say with my best calming voice. "Let's go grab a table and talk, alright?"

"Mmkay." Her crossed arms let me know she's barely humoring my request.

"Human?" I mouth to Kieran as she turns around.

He nods but his wide eyes tell me there's more to the story. We find a booth about ten feet away and settle in.

"What would you like to talk about, love?" I ask, laying on my best charming smile.

"Really?" she asks. "I don't know, maybe how some dickhead broke up with me over the frigging phone and didn't even have the decency to tell me why??"

I hear glass shatter and we both turn to see a stunned Kieran with a tipped broken beer glass on the counter. With their lightning-fast reflexes, you rarely see a demon fall victim to clumsiness. He has definitely been caught off guard.

By her tone, I would assume that she was talking about me, but I can't see a situation in which I would date a human in the first place, let alone break up with anyone over the phone.

Is she talking about Kieran?

He certainly seemed to react strongly to her. But then why would she be so angry at me?

"Mmm, well," I say. "I'm sorry about that, love."

"You're sorry?" she asks. "Well geez, Zane, that's really friggin' great and all but I'm looking for a little more than just sorry."

She's not exactly making this easy, but I can't help but love how forthright this girl is. For a human, she's quite feisty.

Something about the look of betrayal on her face makes me angry at the wanker who hurt her, even if that wanker may have been me.

I'm kind of hoping it was Kieran. It would be much easier to kick Kieran's ass than my own.

Rather than try my hand at solving this particular puzzle right now, I decide to grasp her hand.

"Love," I say. "You're going to go ho-"

She rips her hand from mine in a swift motion.

"Were you just trying to charm me into leaving and letting this go?" she says, her volume rising with every syllable.

Oh, shit.

I guess when I asked Kieran if she was human, I should have added a few more questions.

"I'm sorry, love," I say with a sigh. "To be honest, I don't really know what you want from me and yes—I was hoping that would settle you."

"Settle me?" she says.

Her soft hand collides with my face and a loud cracking sound radiates through my ear.

I can't help but have a bit of a smile knowing that this tiny woman just smacked me, but my reaction doesn't go unnoticed by her.

"That's it," she says, grabbing her purse and standing up to leave. "Fuck you."

Kieran appears at our table in a frantic state.

"Ava," he says, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Please don't take him seriously right now, he's had a shit ton to drink. You really don't even know the half of it."

"Oh, he seems very clear on what he wants," she says. "You want this settled, Zane? Fine. We're settled."

Her combat boots drum rapidly across the floor as she leaves the pub.

"Fuck," Kieran says, slumping into the booth across from me and dropping his head into his hands. "When you get your memory back, you're gonna hate yourself for that."