Saerian arched an eyebrow and smiled in return. He'd forgotten how young she was. Phaedra had been a child to him, hundreds of years ago. Dawn was still not quite a woman and yet not entirely a child, that strange area of time where every possibility existed because there was so much lifespan ahead, and so much raw potential.
York was a young town, to the demon inside Jack's body. But as towns went, Dawn was largely correct. Aside from the Gates, there was not a lot of tantalizing history. It wasn't Atlanta, with fires and confederate generals and a building housing all the infectious diseases man had ever seen. It wasn't New York. It wasn't even some strange New Jersey town where cult-classic movies were filmed. It just was.
"I've lived here for some time," he said. And that was true; Jack had. "It's..." Jack's laugh came next. "... it's not as awesome as other places, no. But it's got some redeeming qualities."
Saerian debated how thick to lay it all on. He himself was genuinely interested in Dawn, almost in the same way he had been in Phaedra. She was special, and he was drawn to that. But he had an agenda, now, and he wasn't certain that attempting to create another mate was really part of it.
That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself. And what if Dawn could come around to his way of thinking?
"Like pretty girls doing research in the bullshit bookstore you stop into on the way home from work."