"Yes, I am."
"A Scottish vampire... er... Dark One."
"Yes." He kept his eyes on the road as we drove into the darkness. Night had fallen fully, the air thick with the promise of more rain, the stars and moon obscured by the usual soggy clouds that I'd seen hang over Edinburgh for much of the two years I'd lived there.
"Is that unusual? I mean, I always imagined you guys were from Eastern Europe. Romania, or somewhere like that. Or is that just legend?"
His silver eyes flashed my way for a moment. "The origins of the Dark Ones are lost to us, but much of our heritage goes back to the Moravian Highlands in what's now the Czech Republic."
"Huh. Interesting." I looked outside at the black nothingness that whizzed by us as he drove beyond the suburbs of Edinburgh into the lowlands, quickly heading into the windswept hills of East Lothian on a long, empty road. "I'm Canadian. And American. Both. My dad is from the US, but my mother is Canadian, and I grew up there. I've got a dual citizenship thing going, in case you were wondering. That's how I was able to open up a business here."
He said nothing. I took that to mean he wasn't wondering about the ins and outs of my heritage.
"Did I thank you for giving me a ride to your house? Clare has a car, but she tends to start writing poetry to the stars or a flower and doesn't pay much attention to actually driving, so I really do appreciate you giving me a lift."
"Yes, you thanked me."
"Good." Silence fell between us - not a companionable, comfortable silence, but one that was fairly awkward and weighty. It itched along my skin like raw wool. "Finn was nice. Are you sure he won't mind being left in Edinburgh? I hated to rush you into leaving, but I wanted to see the house before deep night was upon us."
"No, he won't mind."
"OK." More silence. I surreptitiously picked at a fingernail for a moment, wondering why I could be silent with so many other people without feeling anything, but was bothered by Paen's silence. I mused on that for a few minutes, then decided I'd put the question to the man who sat so close to me that his hand brushed my leg every time he shifted gears (something I was very well aware of). "Paen - "
His shoulder twitched.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you by using your first name. I realize that's rather unprofessional of me, but it kind of slipped out."
"I don't mind if you call me Paen," he said, rather gruffly, I thought.
"Oh. Good. I'm Sam, by the way. Do you dislike talking to me?"
That got me a startled glance. "Pardon?"
"I wondered if you disliked talking to me. Especially since you were doing that whole non-verbal talking-into-my-head thing earlier."
Thank heavens for seat belts, that's all I can say. The belt kept me from bashing my brains out on the windshield when Paen slammed the brakes on, sending the car into a little spin in the (thankfully empty) rain-slickened road.
"Are you all right?" he asked once the car came to a stop, flipping on the overhead light so he could peer anxiously at me.
"I think so." I sat back and rubbed a spot on my neck where the seat belt had burned it. "I'm just a little shaky. Nothing like pulling a one-eighty to get your adrenaline flowing, eh?"
He didn't answer, just opened the car door and got out to look at the front of the car. I sat for a minute, figuring he was just checking on the car, but when he started walking away from me, I got out.
"Is the car OK?"
"Yes. I'm looking for the demon," he said, peering into the night. "Damn. I wish I'd thought to bring a torch."
"Demon? What demon?" I hurried over to where he stood, the car's rear lights our only illumination.
"The one that I almost hit when it jumped out in front of me. At least I assume it was a demon - it rose up from the ground, and there are few beings but demons which will do that." He frowned at me. "Do you have much experience with them?"
"Demons? No, not a lot," I answered, thinking about the one who had given me the bird statue. "All I really know about them is that they're bad news, and they have a nasty-smelling smoke."
"Exactly," he said, lifting his head.
I sniffed along with him, the faintest hint of a smoky stench reaching my nose. "That does smell like a demon. That or really bad fertilizer. But why would one jump out in front of us?"
"A good question, but one I can't answer right now," he said, giving me a gentle push toward the car.