"Many demons possess the ability to heal all but the gravest injuries."
"And do you have to be a demon to do that?"
He frowned. "You believe me?"
She licked her lips, making Styx swallow a groan. "I believe you are something . . . supernatural. Is that the politically correct term?"
Politically correct? Styx gave a shake of his head.
The woman was the oddest creature he had ever stumbled across.
"I prefer vampire, or demon, if you must." He eyed her suspiciously. "You are . .. taking this better than I thought you would."
Her lashes lowered to hide the expressive green eyes. "Well, I've never been precisely normal myself."
"Not normal? What does that mean?" he demanded.
"I... nothing."
"Tell me." When she remained stubbornly silent he reached out to cup her chin in his hand. He intended to be severe. She was there to answer his questions. Unfortunately, her skin was as smooth as warm silk and he couldn't entirely suppress the desire to lean close enough to smell her flowery scent. "Tell me, angel."
"Fine." She sighed before lifting her gaze. "It will be easier to show you. Give me the knife."
He lifted his brows. Did she assume that he was so distracted by her fragile beauty that he would allow her to slit his throat?
Granted he was distracted. Far more distracted than he had been in decades. But not death wish distracted.
"You cannot kill me with it," he warned.
"I didn't think I could." Her head tilted to the side. "I suppose it takes the usual?"
"The usual?"
"You know, sunlight or a wooden stake through the heart?"
"Or decapitation."
She grimaced. "Nice."
"What do you want with the knife?"
"I don't plan anything nearly so spectacular as you." She held out her hand until he grudgingly placed the knife on her palm.
Prepared to fend off a futile attack, Styx was once again outmaneuvered as she instead clutched the knife and before he could react made a small cut in the pad of her thumb.
"Are you . . ." His furious words trailed away as he watched the sweet, human blood trail away to reveal the wound already closed. The cut was not deep, but no mortal could heal with such speed. He lifted his gaze to regard her with a searching curiosity. "You are not entirely human."
She didn't appear particularly pleased. It was almost as if she would have been happier to be just another mortal among the millions.
"I don't know what 1 am. At least not beyond the fact that I'm a certifiable freak." She gave a hunch of her shoulder. "You can't imagine how many foster homes I've been kicked out of after they watched my little healing trick."
Styx took her hand to raise it to his nose. He breathed in deeply, but once again he could detect nothing but the scent of flowers and very human blood.
"Do you possess any other unusual traits?"
She tugged free her hand and clutched at the blanket that had begun to slip in a tantalizing fashion. But not before Styx had felt the wild leap of her pulse.
He managed to hide his smile of satisfaction.