I gave Gaius a weak nod. My old self had been as shocked as my current self at what time had done to him. How long since I’d become a succubus and left my village? Thirty years ago?

“Can you tell me…is there a man here—a fisherman—named Marthanes? Does his family still live here?”

“Sure,” he said. “Same house they’ve always been in, out past the—”

“I know where it is,” I said quickly.

He shrugged, not minding my interruption. “He’s probably down at the bay, though. He’s too old to still be working but swears his sons-in-law can’t get by without him.”

Sons-in-law. Of course. My sisters would have gotten married long ago.

“Thanks,” I said. I began to walk away. “It was nice seeing you again.” He gave me a puzzled look but said nothing more.

I walked toward the bay, where the water glowed with such a vivid, teal-tinged blue that it seemed to be some Technicolor vision. Surely nothing in nature could produce such beauty. Longing and nostalgia welled up within my watching self.

The town was busy at midday, and I recognized more faces than I expected. Children I’d known grown to adulthood, adults I’d known now in their golden years. The waterfront was just as busy, with ships loading and unloading goods that made commerce in the Mediterranean boom. It took me a while to find my father, and here, I earned more looks than I had in the village. Women were rare in this district, choosing to avoid the rough sailors and workers. I located my father largely because of his voice, shouting orders just as he had in my youth.

“Are you trying to cost me a fortune? What do you do out there all day? My granddaughter could catch this many fish wading by the beach!”

He was yelling at a man I didn’t know, his face sheepish and cowed as he displayed what must have been today’s meager catch. I wondered if this was one of my sisters’ husbands. The man promised to do better and then scurried away.

“Fa—Marthanes?”

My father turned at my approach, and I tried not to gasp. Like Gaius, the years had carved away Marthanes the fisherman as well. How old would he be now? Sixties? Seventies? Time had grown blurred since I became immortal.

“What do you want?” he snapped. “I’ve got no use for prostitutes anymore. Go down to Claudius if you’re looking for business. He hasn’t slept with his own wife in ten years. Not that I blame him. That woman’s a harpy.”

Age might have grayed and thinned out his hair, lines might have creased his face…but my father’s tongue was still the same.

“N-no. That’s not why I’m here. I met you…a few years ago.”

He frowned, looking me up and down. “Never seen you in my life. Pretty sure I’d remember someone as tall as you.”

As a succubus, I could change into any man’s fantasy, taking on the shape of a woman whose beauty transcended words. Yet, even with that ability, the old remarks about my height still stung.

“Well, I remember you.” Seeing his eyes shift impatiently to his workers, I asked, “Do you know a musician named Kyriakos? He’d be my age—er, about thirty years older than me. He used to live south of town.”

My father snorted. “That Kyriakos? He’s no musician. He took over his father’s business when he died. Does okay with it, even though the rates he demands for my fish are ridiculous.”

“Does he still live in his same house?”

“You mean his father’s house? Yes. Like you said, in the south.” My father’s restlessness was palpable now. He didn’t know me. He had no use for me.

“Thank you,” I said. I was about to tell him it was nice to see him, as I had Gaius, but my father was gone before I could.

With a heavy heart, I walked back through town but instead of heading south, I took a detour to my old home, wondering what I’d discover. What I found was my mother, hanging clothing outside, humming as she did. Off to the house’s side a middle-aged woman dug herbs out of the ground. It took me a few moments to recognize her as my younger sister.

My mother’s face was different, but her kind eyes were still the same as she gave me directions to a place I already knew. My sister glanced up and watched a moment, then returned to her work. Neither recognized me. Just like with my father, I was a brief interruption to their day.

I’d known this would happen. It was what I’d sold my soul for. My contract with Hell had erased all memories of me from everyone who had ever known me. The Oneroi had shown me a lie on my wedding day. I’d been a virgin, faithful to Kyriakos. But a couple years later, weakness had struck me. I’d betrayed him, and it had devastated him more than anyone could have imagined. He’d wanted to kill himself over the heartache, and only my bargain had saved him. That was the truth.

Still…some part of me had thought maybe, just maybe someone might recognize me. Just the faintest spark of remembrance.

Kyriakos could have been down near my father, overseeing his fleet, but something told me he’d be doing administrative tasks, not manual labor. My hunch was correct. Before I’d become a succubus, Kyriakos and I had had our own house. He must have moved back to his family’s home after Hell erased his memories.

I braced myself to meet the lady of the house, the woman Kyriakos must have undoubtedly married. But when he came out to see who was visiting him, I found him alone. Seeing him made my heart stop. He too had been touched by age, but he was still young enough that the lines were few. Only the faintest of gray graced his hair, and like my mother, his eyes were the same. Dark and wonderful and full of goodness.

“Do you need help?” he asked, voice friendly and curious.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I was drunk from seeing him, filled with a mix of love and pain. I wished so badly that I had stayed with him, that I had never committed such sins. I wished I didn’t wear this youthful face. I should have grown old with him. My ability to conceive children had seemed sketchy at the time, but maybe we would have eventually had a family.

Just like with everyone else, I claimed to need directions, stammering out the first random place I could think of. He described the way in detail, though I already knew it.

“Do you want me to escort you there? This is a safe area…but you never know.”

I smiled but felt no joy. The same Kyriakos. Infinitely kind to others, even a stranger. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to take you from your work.” I hesitated. “We met…a few years ago.”

“Did we?”

He studied me, apparently searching for the memory. His eyes remained blank, though. No trace of recognition. I was a stranger. I had never existed for him. I wondered if he’d even remember me when I left here.

He shook his head, sounding sincerely apologetic. “I’m sorry. I don’t recall it….” He was waiting for my name.

“Letha.” The word burned on my lips. Like this shape, the name was dead to me. Only Hell ever used it.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“It’s okay. Maybe I’m wrong. I thought…I thought you were a musician.” When we’d been married, he worked for his father but had hopes of giving that up and playing music full-time.

Kyriakos chuckled. “Only as a hobby. Most of my days are hunched over numbers.”

The loss of his ambition made me almost as sad as his lack of memory. “Well…your wife must be glad to have you home.”

“Not married, I’m afraid.” He was still smiling. “My sister keeps house for me when she’s around.”

“Not married?” I asked incredulously. “But why? At your age…” I blushed, realizing how rude I sounded. “I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t offended. “At your age, marriage is all girls think about, huh? You probably have a dozen suitors with as pretty as you are.” Typical. Few had found me pretty while mortal; he had always believed me beautiful. “I just never found the right woman. I’d rather be alone than spend my life with the wrong person.” A dreamy, sad look filled his features, and then he shook his head and laughed. It was an uneasy laugh. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear some old man babbling about romantic nonsense. Are you sure you don’t want me to show you the way?”