"S'pose. My boss was immortal, he thought, back home - and I helped him maintain that theory," Owen says with a dark grin. "I shot him. Good few times."

"So," he continues, propping himself up on the door-frame. He's genuinely curious, and not about to leave without some answers. "I'm assuming you're not going to tell me what you are? Why not," he slides a glance at Nikola, "is it too scary for the poor little fresh corpse?"