Sam wiped his mouth delicately and sat back, thoughtful. "So many questions..." he murmured, pinning Ariskye with his golden gaze, trying to discern who she was. "I suppose you can start with what the Nibiru are. Where do they come from? What are their abilities? How old are they?"
He asked the last question to judge how powerful the demoness might be. It was true that he genuinely wanted to know, but it was also a general rule that the older the demon's race, the more powerful they were. Black cults across the world were now successfully creating demons of their own making, but they were weak things, pitiful things. Not like them at all.
To discover a new race was satisfying to him, like wiping a mind black with the terror of his shadows. Gossamer had known many creatures in his life, but he could tell nothing quite compared to the girl sitting at his table now, with fire in her eyes, and a certain uncanny independence in her walk. And he was determined to unlock her secrets.