My mouth went completely dry. Who the hell was this guy?
“Ho-how do you know about that?”
Only the nosy population of demonkind, and I, knew about the real circumstances behind Kat’s death. The police, my extended family, and others who knew my sister believed it was suicide. It irked me to think they all probably viewed her as a coward, someone torn apart by her parents’ death and too weak to keep living. But I knew better.
Kat was anything but weak. Despite the risks she knew she was taking, my sister never abandoned me. Even after seeing what demons had done to our parents, her drive to protect me only grew stronger. She was so unselfish in her ways that she loved me to the point it had gotten her killed. Of course, I couldn’t very well tell anyone else this—they’d lock me up and throw away the key for sure.
As it was, most of them probably half expect me to follow in my sister’s footsteps or, at the very least, end up in a psych ward. And, honestly, I’m kind of surprised I haven’t gone batshit crazy yet. Or, maybe I have. Maybe I’ve been locked up in a white, padded room, left sedated and mumbling incoherently about monsters in my drug-induced sleep. It would make just about as much sense as my current situation.
Nathan still hadn’t answered my question. He seemed to be trying to find the right words to explain. Or, more likely, deciding whether or not to tell me the truth.
Finally, he responded, “Sups like to gossip.”
I crossed my arms, and made it apparent in my tone that I was annoyed. “What the hell is a sups?” After all, I’m human, and I’d bet my craptastic life that he’s well aware of that fact. So, it should go without saying that I wasn’t exactly up-to-date with the “street” lingo of the damned.
“Sups—short for supernaturals,” he explained deadpan. His tone was causal, as if he was carrying on about something as mundane as the weather. “Rumors travel fast. We don’t exactly have a mainstream news channel, so any important, or interesting turn of events, is spread by word of mouth.”
Fantastic. So every demon, and whatever else may be out there, knew all about my personal life. Oh, and my host just categorized himself as one of the “Sups”.
He cocked an eyebrow when he caught me measuring him up with my eyes.
I took a wary step back. “So, what kind of Sup are you, then?”
His brooding expression transformed into something less severe, lighter. Nathan looked almost amused, conspiratorial. Maybe both.
“It is not what I am that you should concern yourself with, but rather, what I can do for you.”
I’d still prefer to know both, but it was obvious he wasn’t about to spill the metaphorical beans on the former subject. Besides, as long as he wasn’t a demon out to shed my blood, it wasn’t really any of my business. People have their secrets—I know I do—and I could respect that.
I maneuvered around him to reclaim my seat on the bed. It was obvious this discussion was going to take awhile.
“Alright, fine. I’ll buy into your little game. What is it that you think you can do for me?”
There was a hint of mischief in his expression when he met my eyes. “As I said, I can help you find your sister’s killer.”
I’d almost forgotten why we were having this conversation in the first place. The reminder was dizzying. I still had trouble believing it—both the fact that he knew the true circumstances behind Kat’s death, and that he was offering to help me find her demon.