Chapter 8

"So… you two seem friendly," Kowalski said as soon as we left the building. His voice broke me out of my thoughts. "You guys were even talking in another language like long-time friends. Is there something I should know?"

His accusations left me stunned. In all the time that I have known him, granted it had only been two years, not once had he treated me like a suspect… until now. And I did not appreciate the feeling.

"Never met the man before, but I can almost guarantee that none of his employees are collaborating with The Specialist. We'll have to find a new angle of attack." I was rarely serious, but when a Hunter was in my area, I had to be more careful.

"So you do know him."

"Nope, I don't know him personally, but I do know OF him. And he would never stoop so low as to become involved with a second-rate arms dealer," I replied, getting distracted again by my thoughts…

Had I given myself away? Did he even know what I was? Could he know what I was? Should I stay in New York? What should I do?!?

"The Specialist is not some second-rate arms dealer. He is on Interpol's watch list, the CIA's watch list and every other agency in the alphabet soup has an invested interest in this guy. Maybe Singer likes the idea of earning more money, or perhaps someone on his roster is dipping their hands in the market. I don't know, but Knights Securities is our best lead."

Once we got to our car, Kowalski grabbed my arm and spun me to face him. He looked me deep into my eyes like he was trying to see into my soul. "I don't care if he is your boyfriend, your husband, or just a crush, you will not dismiss him from the list of suspects simply because you know OF him."

I jerked my arm out of his grasp and I stared him down as much as a 5'2 girl could stare down a 6'5 giant.

"The Specialist is nothing but a low-level criminal that is so far down the totem pole to Singer that it isn't even worth his time to know his name. I repeat, Singer will never lower himself to the level of some criminal that deals with the dredges of society. I do not have a crush on him, nor am I in love with his public persona. I know OF him because our families came from the same place. That man could not care less about the lives of us pea-brained Neanderthals, and the few billion dollars that he might earn selling his weapons to The Specialist is nothing to him. WE are nothing to him," I started, trying to figure out how to stress to my partner that this man had more money than God, and wouldn't be interested in branching out.

In fact, I am pretty sure that Singer had enough money to buy the continents of North America and South America several times over. Maybe throw in Europe and Asia for good measure.

That man probably had so much money that he couldn't even spend it all in his lifetime... however many hundreds of years that might be.

That man HAD to have a security company and create weapons just like I HAD to have ribbons or some kind of thread on my body.

It is a compulsion, a nervous tick.

Each and every supernatural House had its own curse attached to it, and the residents would go crazy if they tried to suppress it.

Werewolves were ruled by the moon. When the full moon came out, they were forced to change into their wolves.

Vampires needed blood. This was not like some book where a vampire could go vegetarian or drink the blood of animals. Blood from anything but a human would not do. Skip a few meals and you would go crazy, tearing out the necks of anyone around you.

Frankenstein's monsters needed lightning. As much as they hated it, the electricity from lightning was the best way to keep them charged and alive. No electricity, no monster.

Skinwalkers were their own thing. They could change into anyone or anything, and they could live forever, but their biggest weakness was silver, and decapitating them killed them off just like any zombie. Taking off an arm however… it would just reattach, no strings needed.

Now, Van Helsings needed to hunt. From what I can remember from the books that Mother left me, Van Helsings had a compulsion to hunt down anyone that did not follow the rules of the supernatural world. A wolf transformed in front of a group of humans? Dead. A vampire's meal is caught by a passerby? Dead. A Van Helsing would literally wake up out of dead sleep to hunt down someone that broke the rules and exposed their existence to humans.

Providing weapons for a low-level human? Not a chance. Anyone that did would be killed on the spot. After all, Van Helsing weapons were magical.

The four clans were able to live for hundreds of years unless someone killed them. The world turned slower for them. A decade to anyone else might feel like seconds to them. The average lifespan of a human was so short that there was no need to interfere with them.

I could not give Kowalski any secrets, and even I don't know half as much as I should know. But I had to try, for the sake of all our heads.

"His employees are trained in a militaristic type of way. If someone was betraying Singer, and I stress, no one is dumb enough to do that, then that person would be dead within seconds. Hel-Singer does not deal with betrayal well, and no one is dumb enough to piss off the Silver Smith."

"Silver Smith? Isn't his name Singer?" Kowalski asked as he calmed down and gestured for me to get into the car. I complied and waited until he got into the driver's seat before I answered his question.

"Silversmiths were what his family did hundreds of years ago in the Old Country. They made everything out of silver, from rings to swords, daggers to pots, no one made anything out of metal better than the Silver Smiths. The name stuck and they are still referred to it to this day."

"You guys keep mentioning the Old Country, that assistant mentioned it too. What old country are you talking about?"

"Romania," I replied with a sigh. I had hoped that I had left the Old Country behind me several hundred years ago, but I guess you couldn't take a girl from her home, no matter how hard you tried.

"He's Romanian? I thought Singer was German."

"Nope, not German, that man is definitely Romanian." And he was going to be a huge pain in my ass.

Was it too late to move to Antarctica? I heard the weather there was wonderful this time of year.