“Yes,” I said again. “I’m very, very sure about that.”
Once again, Hans didn’t smile, just nodded. He got to his feet once Eliza appeared at the other end of the bar.
“I hope that one day, you get to live your fantasy,” he told me, this time with a smirk. “Goodnight, Katherine.”
There was a glimpse of something in his eyes. A sense of knowing. A sense of power. Something that would have sounded nothing but crazy to myself if my heart hadn’t thumped so hard and fast. It just didn’t make any sense. The prickles on my chest ran riot as I watched Hans Jacob Weyer walk away.
On reflection, I should have known something was coming.
Chapter Two
Thefeelingsfromthebar wouldn’t leave me alone that night. I got home to my tiny bedroom in the house I was sharing with other tenants, but there were no distracting conversations to be had there. I was living with people I barely knew, even after three months. Our hours were different. They were early starters. The four of us were like passing ships in the night.
I could have really done with a friend to chat with. Such a shame I didn’t have any yet in London, and as for family. Well, I’d have been better off grabbing a stranger from the street to talk with than calling my mum up in Orcop. Grandma would be hissing in the background behind her, calling me astupid girlyet again for moving away from home.
London is crawling with sinners, Katherine!
The other tenants were already locked away in their bedrooms, no doubt fast asleep as I made jam on toast. I took it to bed and munched while I watched mindless videos on my phone. Snippets of The Vampire Diaries came up amongst random funny cat videos, which wasn’t all that helpful in shifting the prickles. Usually mindless scrolling was enough that I’d sink away into dreamland, but the edginess, and the heat, and the flushes wouldn’t ease off.
I’d picture Hans’ face and I’d get crazy flutters, heart pounding as I remembered his words.
I’m interested inyou.
His smile. His perfect teeth. His laugh. I could see him speaking those words with crystal clarity.
No.
I was going insane.
Scrolling through videos stood no chance whatsoever of distracting me, so I ran a bath, praying that the steam from the water would relax my mind, but still nothing. The prickles kept on coming.
I was so hot that I put on a satin slip of a nightdress for bed instead of cosy PJs. A white flimsy thing I hadn’t worn since the height of summer.
It didn’t help. I tossed and turned, covers on and off, cursing my brain for churning.
I’m interested inyou.
There was only one thing for it – to embrace the vampire fantasies and let them work their magic. Hans was the obvious choice, but imagining him biting my neck was just too much. It sent shivers through my whole body, so intensely that slipping my fingers down between my legs felt like vicious electric, so strong that I couldn’t bear it. It was so bizarre that I kept on trying, only to reinforce the truth.
I couldn’t touch myself thinking about him.
It didn’t make any sense. It felt like my body was punishing me for daring to think about it. As though some weird force was forbidding me to touch myself and think of his voice.
Insane. Just… no. No.
I gave myself a shake, determined to put Hans out of my mind.
I reverted to my usual fantasy fuel and put on the beginning of Interview with the Vampire, watching as Lestat dripped vampire blood into Louis’ desperate mouth, which would invariably work like romantic filth for me. It was a whole fresh round of shock when it didn’t work. Not even Lestat and Louis could take my mind away from Hans Weyer.
I couldn’t handle the disappointment of Gary Oldman failing to distract me, so I abandoned my phone and kept on tossing and turning, cursing sleep for giving me the middle finger.
I have no idea when sleep did finally hold out a hand and grace me, but the transition into dreamland was sharp. I was tumbling deep and fast when I felt cold cobblestones under my feet. Yes. I recognised them.Hyde Street, on the way home from Regency. I’d walked along that street plenty of times on my way home from work, but never barefoot. It was cold and mossy, and the place looked different, despite the buildings being similar. It was hard to make out for certain in the dark, but it felt older, as though I’d stepped back in time.
I turned around on the spot to check things out, goosebumps up my arms and freezing cold, since I was still in a satin slip that barely grazed my thighs. It felt so real that I looked down to find my nipples were hard in the chill, and true to life – just like in bed – I wasn’t wearing any panties. Even in dreamland it freaked me out – feeling so exposed.
I glanced around, checking the road. Thank God, there was nobody there to see me.
Nobody there in view didn’t mean there was nobody there in the flesh, though…