If there's one thing I've never questioned in my life, it's that I am—and always have been—definitely human. Honestly, I didn't even know there was another option.

If I can go my whole life having no idea about something so big, how am I ever supposed to trust myself?

I'm supposed to be an empath, but it's pretty clear I have the world's worst intuition.

My stomach drops and my chest tightens. The idea that I've been so completely ignorant about my own reality has me questioning everything.

Kieran stares vacantly at the road ahead with both his hands on the wheel. He has been uncharacteristically quiet since Grams's house. Every time he glances over at me, he winces and looks away like I'm a bad memory he's trying to forget.

Finn, on the other hand, has spent most of the drive discussing what it means to be part-human, part-Empath.

"I've only known two Empaths in my life—brothers, Morgan and Patrick MacNee," he says. "Only one ever visited me here in Port Charlotte: Patrick. Morgan barely leaves the house, let alone the country. Their family is from Ireland like mine, but both of 'em were born and raised in England. He was a good man, but a bit wild. And I remember Fleurette, your Grams. Wild doesn't even begin to cover it with that girl."

"That's for sure," I mumble.

"She's Morgan's niece?" Kieran asks, his eyes still fixed on the road.

"Great-niece, but yeah. She must be," Finn says, squinting and looking me over. "Now that I think about it, I don't know how I didn't see it before. Sam is Patrick's spittin' image—ginger hair, big brown eyes. You're a MacNee for sure."

I nod slowly, taking in his words but failing to process them at all.

Finn knows my grandfather. Apparently Kieran knows my grand-uncle? And they're all supernatural immortal creatures.

And so am I.

Sort of.

One-quarter supernatural, I guess.

What the fuck does any of this mean?

I rub my eyes, like if I do it will wipe away the dream I'm undoubtedly experiencing. But for once, in a cruel twist—I'm not sleeping and I'm not dreaming.

"Okay, can we just rewind a little?" I ask. "I'm not sure I understand. Isn't an empath someone who can, like, read other people's emotions? Why would anyone be so threatened by that?"

"Ah yes, see," Finn says, "with Immortals and demons both, our powers are linked to our emotions. So an Empath can channel emotions, yes, but they can also channel powers."

"Wait... so I could, like... use Kieran's powers?"

"Or mine. Or anyone's. Everyone's, really. No one is immune to an Empath."

"Wow." It's the only word that seems to fit.

Either that or what the fucking fuck.

"Any one power might be one thing, but an Empath can take on the powers of every being in the room. They're—you're—infinitely powerful."

Sure. Infinitely powerful. Right.

"But I'm not immortal?" I ask. "I'm not going to live forever like you guys, right?"

Kieran pinches his lips together in a straight line, staring straight ahead with just a hint of a scowl. It's like he's suddenly bothered by the fact that I'm human.

What's his problem?

"I'm not sure," Finn says. "They're aren't a lot of Empaths out there, and there are even fewer human hybrids. You might stop aging at some point. It seems like your dad is unusually spry for his age. I wouldn't be surprised if he stays that way. But you're not invulnerable. You get sick like a human, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm usually pretty healthy. I don't get a lot of colds, but I have gotten some. And I have narcolepsy. You don't think that's because I'm an Empath or whatever, do you?"

"No. If anything, it's from your human side. In your case, the humanity is really the tricky part. You don't have the strength or resiliency of an Immortal. You're susceptible to human illness and you don't seem to have particularly advanced healing. It's... well... that could be a problem for you, Sam."

"Mortality is a problem for everyone," I say. "Besides immortals, that is."

Finn chuckles for a moment then shakes his head.

"The problem I mean is... if more people like Asmodeus find out about you, they might feel threatened. It's something you're going to have to keep under wraps."

"Threatened how? You said it yourself, I'm not immortal. What am I going to do to them?"

"Empaths are infinitely strong. Even being three-quarters human, you're still dangerous. An Empath can channel the powers of any Immortal or demon in their vicinity."

"What about my dad? He's not... is he one too?"

"Definitely. No human looks that good in their sixties, Sam."

"Does that mean they're coming after him too?"

"I doubt it... no one goes after Empaths for the same reason they're a threat in the first place. They're too strong, too dangerous to take head-on. Being half-blooded, your da's probably still too much of a risk for them. I think the only reason they'd consider going after you is that you're three-quarters human."

"This is crazy! I mean, I probably don't even have powers."

"I can't be certain that you do, but if Asmodeus sent Victor to get close to you, he must have suspected that you did. Otherwise, Victor would've just killed you outright."

"How would I know? How do I... do that? The Empath-ing power thing?"

"Everyone's trigger is a little bit different. Usually it's a gut instinct, like dodging when someone takes a swing at you. But sometimes you have to train the muscle, so to speak."

"There's an Empath muscle?" My brow furrows as I turn to look at him in the back seat.

"Not literally." He smirks slightly and rubs a hand over the scruff on his chin. "It's just a way of thinking about it. It's like how some people can twitch their nose from side to side. The only way to learn is by becoming familiar with how to control those muscles. It's a similar thing with powers. You don't start by driving the car; you start by learning which pedals are which."

I nod, turning back around to face the windshield.

"So how do I do that?"

"Easiest way I can think is to get you out to a remote location along with someone who has active powers, then give you a chance to experiment."

"A remote location?"

"Well no offense, but we don't want you trying out your powers for the first time around civilians. Someone could get hurt."

"Oh." It never occurred to me that I might be dangerous to other people.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, but I'm happy to call your, uh, great-uncle if you need tips."

"My great-uncle?" I whip my head back around to look at Finn. "You mean he's still alive?"

I scold myself the moment I ask the question.

He's immortal, Sam. Of course he's still alive.

"He is, yeah."

"And my grandfather? Are you still in touch with him?"

His eyes fall downward and he rests a fist against his lips.

"I'm sorry, Sam. Pat, uh... he died about 25 years ago."

A lump forms in my chest at the news. It's not like I knew him enough to mourn him, but it's hard to accept. Kieran said Empaths were targets, and Finn said other Immortals were threatened by their power.

What happened to him?

"How did he die if he was immortal?" I ask.

"Pat... struggled with the burden of his powers and... well, it was ultimately too much for him." His voice is laced with pain. "It was suicide."

Like today wasn't already full of heavy revelations.

*****

After arriving home and parting ways with Finn, we make our way to my bedroom. Kieran slumps to the ground beside the bed, his knees bent as his head falls back against the mattress. He shuts his eyes and rubs a splayed hand down his face, stopping when it reaches his mouth.

"You doing okay over there?" I ask.

His eyes open and he drops his hand beside him.

"This is just a lot." He leans his elbows on his knees and rests his forehead in his palms.

I've never seen Kieran this rattled, but I can't quite tell why. I'm the one that just got the life-altering news; but he's the one acting like his world is falling apart.

"If it's a lot for you, then you can imagine how I'm feeling."

He looks up at me and nods, biting his lip.

"You're right. I'm sorry. How are you feeling, Red?"

"Hell if I know. I was just getting used to the idea that demons and Immortals exist. But me being one? My dad being one? It's way more than I'm capable of processing."

How am I feeling? I have no idea.

It's like a traffic jam of emotion inside my mind right now—everything is coming at once so nothing is getting in. Like I'm feeling too much, so I can't feel anything at all.

Maybe my brain has never been programmed to handle a revelation like this, so it's just shutting down.

"Yeah." He shrugs and looks down at the floor. "I get that."

"Why are you being weird?" I sit down beside him and nudge his shoulder with mine. "You're acting like somebody put your favorite stuffed animal in a wood chipper."

"My bad," he says, moving slightly so our shoulders no longer touch.

"Okay, what is up with you? Why are you acting like I'm poisonous or something? Are you threatened because I'm supposed to be all-powerful or whatever?"

He huffs out in a combination of cough and laugh and shakes his head.

"Please," he says with a scoff. "Any man who's intimidated by a strong woman is an insecure little bitch. A woman who knows who she is and handles her own shit is hot as fuck. I'm not afraid of you being powerful, Babe. You've always had power over me anyways."

He shoots me a flirty wink and I finally get a glimpse of Kieran's usual self.

"So then what's going on? Talk to me."

"I guess..." he says with a sigh, running a hand back through his hair. "The mortality thing caught me off guard."

"But you knew I was human, or at least partially human."

"Yeah but... I dunno. I guess I didn't do the math on it before. I haven't had to really think about mortality much in my life. If I'm being honest, I'm probably running from it a little bit. When I was given the chance to live indefinitely, I snapped at it. My friends are all immortal. It probably sounds stupid to you, but it never occurred to me that since you're human you... you might..." He pauses for a moment and chews on his cheek, like he doesn't want to let the words leave his mouth. "You're not immortal."

It takes a moment for me to process what he's getting at.

I'm not immortal. He doesn't mean because I'm human. He means that I can die.

"So... you didn't realize that I could die."

His gaze falls to the floor and he rubs the back of his neck with his palm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Die, or be hurt. I mean, obviously I knew you were human. But that coming along with..." His eyes shut and he pulls in a ragged breath.

Is he worried about me? Or is he just having second thoughts about us?

"You don't like to think about death. I get that. Nobody does."

His eyes open again and he looks at me.

"I don't. But it's more than that. I don't like thinking about your... something happening... to you."

It's like he can't bring himself to really say it. Like the words themselves are bitter to the taste.

"Well, I'm not a big fan of the idea either. But don't you think we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves? I'm not dying as far as I know."

"I know." He sighs and swallows hard. "Power is just a funny thing. When I was human I thought it was the answer to everything. I was homeless, living on the streets, trading sexual favors for food or a place to crash. I got the shit beat out of me more times than I can count. I thought if I could fight back, it would fix everything. Then I met someone who told me I could have everything I wanted."

"The demon who... converted you?"

"Yep. She said I'd be crazy strong, never need food or sleep, never age. I could have sex without the risk of STDs or pregnancy. Look however I wanted. I could see people's dreams. Who wouldn't want those things?"

"So you said yes."

"I was a stupid kid. I wanted so badly to be strong—invincible. I thought if I could defend myself, if I were powerful... I thought it would solve all my problems."

"Did it?"

He shakes his head and lets out a hard breath.

"It never does."

"Well I'm not too interested in power, if you're worried I'll be corrupted."

"I'm not worried about you, I'm worried for you. If Asmodeus knew, we have to assume Vic does too. We don't know who else might know either. That's the real truth about power—it doesn't solve things, it just fucks everything up. People either see you as an opportunity or a threat. They want to use you or they fear you. There's no in-between. I don't want that for you. And being an Empath... it puts you at the top of the food chain. But being a human... it also means you're at the bottom."

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