“Distraction really. I didn’t want to go home.” “Your old lady giving you hell?” It took a moment to get the words out. “I don’t have a ...irlfriend.” “Just lose one?” “I never had one, I suppose.” Mickey squeezed my arm, “That’s the sort of words that always end up in a sad story She use you for something?” “No, she didn’t.” ‘You leave her?” “Never.” Mickey leaned forward and took a long sip of simulated vodka. “Man you really are mixed up over somebody.” I laughed. “If you aren’t having fun, it. Shindae said he was sick, fucking his still living prey even while killing them again and again, but Zai knew there were worse proclivities than his own. And anyway, none of the demons he lived with knew about the empathy thing. Empathy was not a skill that demons advertised. It was rare and it was looked down upon. Had Zai ever told the palace he was an empathy, he could of expected a job washing dishes. At best.But Zai's empathic skill was as twisted as his sexual desires. He didn't feel. More

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