Page 21 of Marked by the Demigod

"Many of us do," murmurs the bartender. When Aimes raises an eyebrow at him, he shrugs. "Sometimes we have to leave places in a hurry. Sometimes we have to run."

And doesn't that sound lonely. "The guy said he was just passing through, do you think he was running?"

Again, they exchange a glance, a glance that seems to say a lot in a language Aimes doesn't know.

"I think," Katya begins, careful and official, "if he took the time and effort to do what he did, then he's very scared of something." Her and the bartender seem to be exchanging something of significance. "It's either that or he's very morally corrupt and didn't think it would have consequences. I don't know which one is worse for you."

"Great, thanks," Aimes takes another long, long drink.

Worse for her. As if this also isn't weird enough, as if she isn't drinking in a shitty dusty wine bar in Sherman Oaks, talking about what would or wouldn't be worse for her. As if Jake, or whoever, or whatever he is, has this grand plan in mind when mostly he just looked scared and nervous.

Which, knowing that he was embarking on a magical thing that could affect them for an awful long time, makes a bit more sense.

"And here I thought he was just nervous cause he hadn't hooked up with anyone in a while." She blurts out.

"So he did seem nervous." Katya says, smooth. "That's good to know."

"Is it? Is it though?"

"Anything that narrows it down. Look," she leans in, with a bit of practiced faux intimacy. "Anything you think of, anything strange that happens, tell me. I'll do research, and see what we can do."

"Do you just practice getting people to tell you things all day?" Aimes asks, leaning away. "Cause that's a creepy hobby."

The brief glimmer of surprise shows up again, and Katya laughs. "When you get dumped into this job, you have to work on it." She smiles, and she makes small dimples in her cheeks. "Please keep me updated, I'll try to not stress the creepiness factor next."

"Was that all? When you said awkward questions I thought there'd be more."

"Most people don't like discussing their sex lives with total strangers."

"That's lame."

Katya pushes herself up, looking very studiously at a watch. "I have other meetings, and then reports to do. Can I trust you to let me know if he gets in contact with you?"

Aimes hesitates, then nods, and right on cue her phone buzzes.

Eyebrows raising, both Katya and the blurry bartender wait for her to fish it out of her purse.

ROCKY (9:42 PM): I miss you.

A sudden lump in her throat, she fits the phone back into her purse, as Katya and the bartender wait patiently. "It's just...just an ex boyfriend," she finishes, lame. "Just an ex."

Katya shrugs. "At least he's an ex." She hoists a messenger bag over her shoulder, it creases the lines in her suit. "The last thing you needed with this whole thing was more complication."

* * *

For the firsttime since they broke up, Aimes doesn't text back. Instead she sets her phone down right next to the packet of magical creatures and ignores it until 1:00 AM like a self-respecting adult.

But 1:00 AM rolls around and she's still not asleep, even though tomorrow is a Monday and she's scheduled to drive out to Riverside, and yet, and yet she picks up her phone and goes right to the text.

It's probably a drunk text, it usually is when he says that, he doesn't miss her when he's sober.

She stares at it, and then punches out a reply before common sense and all the fucking drama catches up to her and stills her hands.

AIMES (1:03 AM): What's up?

Even for her that’s lame. Even for her that’s needy. Even for the week she's had.

The three dots of typing appear, then go away. Then appear, then go away. Again and again.

She falls asleep before they ever materialize into a reply.

---