He bit the corner of his mouth. “Ahhh….” The singular cringing note indicated that he knew something and had only just picked up on it. He exhaled long and slow. It was the posture of a kid who was about to confess a curfew violation. Daniel reached back to fiddle with the tag in his collar and said, “Last year I met a vampire. Katherine or Kathleen, I think. A psychic had sent her to Searchlight; she said it was the site of the coming apocalypse because of some kind of magnetism. A couple months later, I met this guy named Whistler, a half-demon. He backed up her claim. He was trying to steer people out of town.”

It struck Daniel as odd that these super-powered pieces of information kept landing in his lap, juicy tidbits other people would claw and scratch for, and he just shrugged and cracked open another beer. Went about his business.