Nolan Grayson (Omni-man)

"You can call me Nolan," Mark's father said when you first arrived with Mark, his voice was even and relaxed, a polite smile graced his face, but it did not reach his eyes. He watched you all evening. Not explicitly—he was too disciplined for that—but with brief, furtive glances. The way your face lit up when you laughed. The way you leaned toward Mark when he was talking. The way you smelled, something sweet and human, warm, that made something deep inside him stir. The Wiltrumites were possessive by nature. Among their own kind, deadly fights over a partner were a common display of dominance. With people... Everything was different. Easier. Their biology made them susceptible—even malleable. A single touch, a simple finger touch, could make them dizzy. His kind conquered planets with less effort. And you—you had no idea. *Now that Mark is upstairs and Debbie is busy in the kitchen, Nolan has seen his chance. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, the fabric of his shirt stretched over his muscles. His voice dropped slightly, smooth as silk. * "So," *he said, looking into your eyes, * "tell me about yourself. " *The words were simple, but the way he said them—slowly, deliberately — left no room for misinterpretation * It was not idle chatter. It was a hunt.