“Yes,” she said. “Thank God for that. I thought we were facing some kind of management crisis, or some Halloween terror had cursed our club!”
I laughed too loudly, but she didn’t seem to notice it was fake.
“I’ll handle the lounge,” she told me. “Stay here and take care of the bar.”
I did as I was told. I cut up lemon after lemon and stocked the ice trays back to full. I cleaned down the sides, and cut up yet more lemons, and the whole time I was as flushed and tingly as I could be.
I tried to summon Mum and Grandma’s voices some more, telling myself I was being a ridiculous girl with a fantasy brain, and it may just have been beginning to work for me – until Frederick got up to make his way to the bathroom and Hans summoned me over.
“A merlot for me, please,” he said.
Blood-red…
“No problem, coming right up,” I replied, but he called me back with await a moment, Katherine.
The only other person in earshot was George.
“You seem a little uneasy tonight,” Hans said. “Are you feeling unwell?”
I shrugged it off, screaming inside that I was nothing but crazy, and that Hans Weyer was just Hans Weyer, a normal human. The newest member of our club and nothing more.
“No,” I assured him. “I’m fine, thank you.”
I thought that would appease him, but it didn’t. He kept his bright green eyes fixed right on mine.
“Are you sure about that? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. As if you’re living in some horrible night terror.”
I thought I’d known prickles before, but they were nothing like these fresh ones. The room started spinning, and the only thing that was steady was Hans’ beautiful white smile.
“Did you have a nightmare?” he asked me. “Honestly, Katherine, if you aren’t feeling well, you should go home.”
I swallowed and braced myself on the bar.
The prickles were hot and fierce. The memories of racing across the cobblestones came back with a vengeance, but Hans’ words still transfixed me, surpassing it all.
I’m interested inYOU.
His vampire fangs, his perfect touch, the way he kissed me so fiercely.
His hand…
Stop!
My voice found itself, and the world stopped spinning. My spirit held firm in my body.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I told him. “I didn’t have a nightmare.”
“No?” he asked. “Are you sure about that? They call night terrorsterrorsfor a reason.”
I held his stare, even though it was eating me up.
“It wasn’t a nightmare,” I said, and my words sounded more assured than I thought they would. “I had a dream last night, and nothing more.”
I poured his merlot, confident, even though my fingers were shaking. I handed it over with a smile.
“Thank you,” Hans raised his glass to me. “Here’s to more sweet dreams, Katherine. We all have plenty of them. A whole world of dreams out there worth living for.”
And dying for.