Page 7 of Demon

Callan easily got up himself, showing surprising grace for one so large. He followed Lonnie into the hall and on into Lonnie’s…well,shrinefor want of a better word. He was a little embarrassed but figured it would be better to show Callan now rather than have the demon waltz in there without warning.

He flipped on the light, and Callan gasped.

“Er,” Lonnie murmured, shuffling his feet a little. “I like demons.”

Callan grunted. “Understatement.”

“Yeah, probably so.”

Callan walked into the center of the room and turned in a slow circle. More shelves filled every available space of wall, with the exception of a table in the corner that held Lonnie’s winged Bahamut fromFinal Fantasy X, standing by itself because he loved it so much. It had been the first one he’d purchased as a teen. He’d mowed a lot of lawns to save up enough for it.

“This room is all about my kind?” Callan gently touched the horns on one of his collectibles.

“Yes. So you can understand why I’m so excited to meet you. And you’re so gorgeous. Not scary at all.”

Callan puffed out his chest, frowning. “I’m scary.”

Uh-oh, was that some kind of insult for him? “Oh, I was scared at first, I promise.” Lonnie really hadn’t been. He’d been too thrilled to see one of his obsessions walking into his classroom. But he could see where the fierce-looking supernatural would be frightening to most. And that chestpuffing was just so damn adorable. “Do you call yourselves supernaturals?”

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

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