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I had so many questions spinning through my brain.
Dying? Pain? Him not realising? Who the hell are ‘we’? And why?! So many whys.
“Calm down,” Hans said. “You’ll get the answers to your questions. Slowly, one step at a time.”
I tried to calm myself down, but my mind was still whirring. Hans’ pace was slow and steady, in a lovely rhythm under the streetlights, and he was unfazed, in such contrast to me.
“Breathe along with your footsteps,” he told me. “Feel the energy and trust it.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about, but turned my senses to how we were walking. My breaths went in and out to the pace.
“Do you feel that?” he asked. “The night?”
I felt the cool of the air.
“No,” he said. “Deeper than that. Close your eyes and trust me to guide you.”
It felt weird closing my eyes and walking, with no idea of what was in front of me, but the feeling was exhilarating. Alive.
I began to feel the power of his pace, his presence beside me and the strong grip of his hand in mine. I felt the flow of energy between us, merging as one. I felt my pulse beating, already craving his teeth again.
And then the rest of the world came into play.
I felt the glow of the streetlights, even though my eyes were closed. I heard the silence in the night, underneath the hum of London city. I felt the silver of the moon, even though it was hidden behind the clouds.
The questions stopped fizzing, and my mind stopped whirring and there was only footsteps, heightened senses and the rhythm of life.
It was a hymn I’d loved as a girl in the school choir.
The rhythm of life.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Hans said. “You can open your eyes now.”
I did what I was told, and my vision only added to the cold, beautiful intensity. I found I was smiling, like a child exploring the world through fresh eyes.
“Gorgeous,” Hans said, looking down at me, smiling too.
We were stopping at a tall, grand townhouse before I knew it. The place had iron railings outside, and steep stone steps climbing up to the heavy black wooden door. The door knocker was solid brass.
“This is yours?” I asked him.
“Yes. It’s one of my houses.”
“Do you have many?” I asked as he took his key from his inside pocket and opened the door.
“Yes,” he said. “I do.”
It was time for me to cross his threshold, and I felt like I was about to step into a curiosity shop, filled with treasures. I wasn’t going to be disappointed. That much was clear as soon as I walked into the hallway.
Beautiful ebonised antique furniture. Paintings of gold on the walls, abstract and stunning. A black and white Victorian style tiled floor, in perfect checks.
A home that would live up to the most dramatic gothic vampire novel I’d ever read.
“I’m glad you like it,” he told me. “I hope you’ll be spending a lot of time here.”
I gave him my coat when he held out his hand for it. Proud at the way my nipples poked through my blouse. Proud that I was starting to understand his world – my new world. Proud that he’d chosen me. He was going to take me with his huge cock, make me beg, make me so wet…
“Earth to Katherine! Be still those filthy thoughts and listen to me, please. It’s important.”
