A groan was the first thing Liliya heard when she woke up. It took her a few moments to realise it came from her own throat. She blinked, struggling to get rid of the fog in her brain. Her damp clothes hugged her skin, hair sticking to her cheeks and neck.

Turning her head, she tried to sit up, but something was holding her back. Her arms hurt and something scraped against her wrists as she moved.

Ties.

The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through her brain as a gasp escaped her lips. The world came into focus. She sat in a chair with her arms behind her back, hands tied together. Her first instinct was to pull, to try and break free, but it did nothing.

"Sorry about that, sweetheart," came a voice not far away.

Liliya's head shot up. To her left stood a woman in a black coat and a beanie hat. Wrinkles etched her face and her eyebrows knitted together. She hung on the bar as if she could keel over at any moment.

Wait... The bar?

Her eyes shot back and forth through the cosy room filled with tables and chairs on a soft carpet and a bar against the long wall. Nyron's bar.

What the hell am I doing in Nyron's pub?

The woman grabbed a bottle from behind her and poured herself a glass of what seemed to be whiskey. "I mean you no harm," she said, without looking up. Her voice sounded rough and worn, as if she'd been smoking for years. "It's your boyfriend I'm looking for. The Memory Thief." She threw her head back and gulped the drink down. "You did know about that, didn't you?"

She looked as though she was expecting an answer. Liliya turned her head and stretched her neck to see the bonds. Rip tie. But there was a gap between her arms. If she could just...

"Yeah, I probably wouldn't talk to me either," said the woman pouring herself another drink. "Don't worry. I'll let you go as soon as I've got him."

It felt as if her heart was plunged into a pool of ice water. Nyron! Whether he knew she was here or not, he was bound to come back to his pub at some point. And when he did, she would...

As if she'd read Liliya's mind, the woman chose that moment to continue, "Once I've killed him, I'll never bother you again."

Liliya gasped, pulling on the ties as hard as she could, fear overshadowing the pain in her wrists.

The woman chuckled and shook her head, downing another glass of liquor. "You should be grateful," she said. "For all you know, you would've been next. Ah, there he is now."

She put the bottle down when the lock of the side door rattled and clicked. It swung open to reveal a red-faced, wide-eyed Nyron, his blonde hair even wilder than normal, peaking every which way. His eyes glanced over the woman, resting on Liliya. "Are you okay? Has she hurt you?"

She could only shake her head, before the woman butted in. With two steps she'd made her way over to Liliya and held a knife to her throat. "Spare me your sentiment. Sit down over there. And don't try anything or her blood's on your hands."

The smell of smoke on her clothes suffocated Liliya. She leaned her head back to get away from the knife, but it moved right along with her. A fearful squeal escaped her.

Nyron raised his hands in the air in defeat. "I'll do as you say, if you let her go."

The woman scoffed. "You're in no position to negotiate. Now sit!"

"Okay, I'm going," said Nyron, shuffling towards the chair as slowly as possible. "Why are you doing this? What have I done to you?"

"I know what you are."

"Yes, your messages made that clear. But I don't know who you are."

Liliya felt the knife burn against her neck, as the woman answered, "Of course you don't. You don't care enough. In fact, I'm surprised you have enough of a heart to care about your little girlfriend here."

Nyron cast a sombre glance at Liliya. "Of course I care about her. She's the best thing that ever happened to me."

Liliya thought the sweet words would've melted her heart, if that blade hadn't taken up all her focus.

"Well, isn't that sweet. If only you had a heart when you got your filthy hands on my boy. May he still would've lived."

A shadow of surprise flickered through Nyron's eyes. "Hang on, I don't kill people."

"You might as well have," she hissed. "Donny was never the same after you attacked him five years ago. Couldn't think straight anymore. I said move!"

"Five years ago?" Nyron's eyes widened and he paled.

"Oh, so you do remember him then?" the woman smirked.

"Donny Tarath, of course I remember! He... He... Oh shit, I didn't realise this was about him." He'd reached the chair and stood in front of it, his hands still up.

"You turned my brilliant boy back into a toddler. And for what? Some old memory?"

"No, that's not... It wasn't supposed to..."

"You took everything from me! Ever since my husband died, my son was all I had, and now he's gone, too. Well, I'll make sure you suffer the same fate," Mrs Tarath spat, gesturing for him to sit down already.

Through the fear, Liliya felt a pang of empathy for her. She knew exactly what it was like to lose your family. If she'd had someone to blame for the fire that killed her dad and her sister, would she have done the same? Her eyes rested on Nyron. Please tell me you didn't do this.

"It was an accident!" Nyron exclaimed, pulling both hands through his hair. He sagged into the chair, arms loosely by his sides. "Shit, that was never meant to happen!"

"An accident? If you're man enough to kill my boy, don't wuss out on owning it up."

Liliya let out a relieved sigh when Mrs Tarath finally let go of her throat. She made her way through the pub and tied Nyron's hands behind his back in the same way.

"I swear, it was an accident." Nyron didn't even look at her. He kept his head down as Mrs Tarath fastened the ties. Liliya struggled against her own with renewed energy.

She'll kill him!

"I got in contact with him because he wanted to forget about that girl he loved, the one who cheated on him," Nyron explained. Liliya turned her head to peek around the back of her chair. There was definitely a gap between her wrists. If she could just get her wrists close enough together...

"It was back when they were teaching me how to steal memories." She pushed, the wood of the chair stabbed into her arms. "Donny was my first one. I didn't really know how it worked yet, it..." She wriggled her hands through the gap, the tie cutting deep into her skin. "It went wrong..." Something warm and liquid seeped down her thumbs. "I accidentally took too much..."

All of a sudden, the tie slipped past her thumb and slid off her fingers onto the soft rugged floor. Barely able to contain a gasp, Liliya looked up. Mrs Tarath stood over Nyron, her back turned to Liliya. She said something to Nyron, but Liliya couldn't focus on the words. This was her chance.

Slowly, without a sound, she pushed herself up from the chair. She caught Nyron's eye around the woman's back. When he looked back up to her, he raised his voice.

"It wasn't my fault!" he shouted. "It was them!"

She crept across the carpet, past the bar to grab the half-full bottle of whiskey.

"You did this to my son! You're going to pay for it!"

As she inched closer, her heart pounded against her ribs so loudly she was certain Mrs Tarath would hear it. But every step was another to freedom and she still hadn't turned around, absorbed as she was in her screaming match with Nyron.

The closer Liliya got, the more Nyron leaned forward. Mrs Tarath seemed to mimic this posture, towering over him.

When she was but an arm's length away, Liliya couldn't hold it anymore. She jumped and swung the bottle down as hard as she could. A deafening crash filled the little pub. Liliya shrieked as the woman sank through her knees and thudded to the floor. Crimson blood trickled from the back of her head onto the floor.

"Oh God," Liliya groaned, wrapping her arms around her belly. "Oh God, I haven't killed her, have I?"

Nyron stretched his neck to look at Mrs Tarath. "Just knocked her out, I think. You're, uh... You're not gonna... leave me here, are you?"

She looked up to find him throwing a lopsided, though insecure, smile at her.

"Please?" he added.

"Of course I'm not leaving you here!" With her foot, she moved the knife Mrs Tarath had been carrying to a safe distance away from the woman. She picked it up and cut through Nyron's ties.

"Let's get out of here," said Nyron. "We need to get somewhere safe. We have a lot to talk about."