Eight:
“Hey, little dhampir Dylan!”
Gallen boomed in a very awkward, but cheerful welcome as we walked into the Musty Ole Nag. Some of the patrons turned to look at me, like a rare creature on display in one of those old mortal zoos.
I’d be lying if I claimed that it didn’t bother me how people gawked. Being that I could feel them in my empathic ability. I knew the multitude of strange things going through their minds and bodies now. I even knew how many of the men, and the women wanted to take me to bed. That didn’t bother me so much, but it was always weird when these thoughts and feelings spiked in someone after they heard who and what I was.
“Hey Gallen, I need two car bombs lined up, stat!”
I told him, and he eyed me and gruffly stated, “Should I check your ID?”
He asked, and
