Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Callan shook his head and one of his horns bonked the overhead light. He ducked and looked up, but it was fine. “Preternaturals.”
“Oh, I like that term—though you are natural, right? You’re from here and not some hell dimension—or are you?”
“From here, just like humans. There are no hell dimensions.”
“That you know of,” Lonnie pointed out.
Callan’s lower lip jutted out. “There aren’t. I’ve been alive four hundred years, so I’d know by now if there were.”
Utter shock speared through Lonnie. “Four hundred years! Fuck! You have to tell me about the things you’ve seen in all that time. That puts you born in the seventeenth century. Did you actually come here on the Mayflower or was your kind already here?
He was silent a moment, his head tilting. “Father was already here.”
“Are your parents still alive?”
“Father is. Mother was human, so not a soulmate. She died when I was a boy.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m familiar with the term soulmate, so are you saying if she had been, she would have lived longer?”
Callan nodded while a hint of what had to be remembered sadness flared briefly in his eyes. “But she wasn’t. Was human. Preternaturals can be with them a long time, but humans can’t be true soulmates.”
Lonnie couldn’t imagine how many times Callan must have outlived people he knew. That had to be horrible. “I lost both my parents ten years ago when I was twenty-four. It’s just me and my sister, Gabby, now. She’s the one who hired you because of the notes.”
“Xavier told me about them. I’d like to see them.”
“I’ll show them to you. I wasn’t really that concerned and think this is probably a student trying to give me a hard time. Maybe got a bad grade or something. But Gabby is worried, so here you are.”
Callan held up his hands. “Here I am.” He gave Lonnie a crooked grin.
He had a nice smile, one that hinted at a fun sense of humor behind all his gruff. That smile intrigued Lonnie, made him want to learn more about Callan. As a person. His brows pulled together as he wondered if Callan could even be called a person. He was another species entirely.
Damn, this was so strange. But still…intriguing.
“Come. I’ll show you the notes and you’ll see there’s not really anything to be worried about.”
Chapter Five
Callan
This human had an entire room dedicated to his species. There had even been a Cambion demon likeness in there. Cambions were born of human and demon and carried a lot of human characteristics.
But to see Lonnie’s complete fascination with demons—Callan wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He wasn’t some kind of fascinating being to be fawned over. He was just Callan the demon. But a part of him had been pleased to know that Lonnie held his kind in such high esteem. It was a form of praise.
He just wished he could articulate his actual thoughts into speech. His inability to fully convey them had been a source of frustration his entire life. His kind didn’t speak much—it was an inherent trait of Cambions. Most didn’t seem to care or even have deep thoughts worth articulating. Rafe and Nathanial seemed to be that way. But Callan could actually feel the disconnect between his mind and the words that came out of his mouth, and he found the whole process annoying. The only other Cambion demon he knew who seemed to find this issue difficult was Bartholomew, and he actually did sometimes get past the problem because he’d worked so hard on it.
Bartholomew had actually gone to college twice, getting a degree in English, then going on to follow that up with a business one. He owned a bookshop that did surprisingly well in today’s e-book world. It helped that half of it was a coffee shop that also offered up fresh-baked goods made by, in Callan’s opinion, the best baker in Seattle. But Bartholomew was always reading, and he worked hard to articulate his vast knowledge of…well, everything. He was only three years older than Callan, but he’d packed a lot of learning in the centuries.
Bartholomew would absolutely love Lonnie. So would Nathanial, but for different reasons—Lonnie was exactly the kind of human Nathanial was attracted to. Small, soft-looking, and with a very pretty face. So was Callan. Lonnie was exactly the type of man to catch Callan’s eye.
Callan followed Lonnie back into the crowded living room, careful to keep his arms from swaying too much. The clutter tangled up his senses a bit, so he’d have to get used to it. It did seem to fit the talkative and energetic human, though.
Lonnie opened a leather briefcase and pulled out bagged pieces of paper, laying them out on the coffee table. Callan bent to read them, and a shot of concern speared his chest. These were definitely something to worry about. Whoever had sent these was paying close attention to Lonnie and everything he did, and the words were vaguely threatening. There were no outright talks of violence, but the warnings were plain.