"Hmm... Anne, so how is this Mark of yours?" I whispered to my friend when she arrived late as always and hid herself behind the bookshelves.

She was trying to become invisible, as Mr. Turner, who took over the till, was glaring reproachfully in her direction, informing her mutely that he did not approve of, and would not tolerate much longer, her belated arrivals.

"Oh, he's amazing, so gentle and romantic... I really do like him, Samara," she half-whispered, her eyes glazed over with infatuation.

"That's great," I said carefully. "But is he... hmm... does he seem completely... normal?" I probed, earning myself a puzzled, if not an affronted look from her.

"Of course he is normal! He is not at all like that Lucas. Now that guy is weird."

Right. So you weren't wrong, even Anne sees that there is something odd about Lucas... I thought as the sound of the front door opening, followed closely by Mr. Turner's voice welcoming a customer, made us jump away from each other, and pretend to do what we were supposed to be doing.

"What do you mean? How weird?" I whisper-shouted at her from the other end of the long bookcase, unable to keep my curiosity at bay, while I moved a couple of books around unnecessarily.

She paused slightly, in an obvious attempt to choose the correct words to express her thoughts and feelings -- How well did I know how difficult that was! -- before saying, "I've never seen him eating, but he drinks a lot. When I asked Mark what it is that his friend keeps drinking, he said it's wine, and I shouldn't worry about him. But I never saw him drunk, not even tipsy. Lucas is always very serious and polite, and so... I don't know Samara, if you are interested in him, I'll tell him, and you two can meet. He definitely gives me creeps, though," Anne said with an ill-concealed shudder in her voice.

"So you and William are really over, then?" she continued after a while, changing the subject. "Like, definitely? It's a shame; you were such a nice couple..."

"Miss Marlowe, I need you over here, please!" Mr. Turner called from the till.

I had never felt so happy to be interrupted before, I didn't want to discuss William ever again. So I only shrugged at Anne in response and left her to reorganize the books alone.

As the morning progressed, I let my thoughts ramble and stroll back to what my friend had said about Lucas. Anne's words only confirmed what I had been thinking; he wasn't completely 'normal'. Is it possible that he is a vampire, then? He was different, somehow, from Vlad, and Junior, or the others I had met so far, I could feel it. If I had to guess what he was, I'd go with a 'perfectly self-controlled... half-vampire' even though I've never met one of those.

Whatever he is, he is innocuous, I concluded, seeing that his flatmate, the most probably perfectly human Mark, despite apparently knowing his friend's secret, seemed relaxed and undisturbed by it. That was the most important thing at the moment. Mark didn't consider his friend dangerous, and so I did not think he posed a threat to Anne or any other human being, either. Still, I'd try to dissuade her from moving over to their flat, just in case, I promised to myself while I jubilated inwardly at having met, maybe, my first half-vampire. Lucas might become your best source of information, after all.

But there was no point in ruminating about it until the next time we would meet, and I would pluck up my courage to ask him directly. Your speculations could be as wrong as they could be right, I warned myself.

Lia arrived to pick up my box just before my lunch break. She made sure that I had brought enough food to eat, then made me write down the date of my first appointment with the midwife who would follow my pregnancy. Thank heavens for Lia, I thought, watching her tick off points written in her notebook as she talked me through them. With all the things happening around me during my days and nights, I kept forgetting about the most important.

I placed my left hand over my still quite flat belly, ordering myself to stay calm and tranquil, while my friend reminded me that she would pick me up at three o'clock, sharp, but if she was late, I was not to go anywhere alone. As soon as I promised her that I'd wait, she was gone, before either Anne or Mr. Turner could notice her and come to chat.

However, Lia's reminder about my appointment, instead of helping me relax, made my panic rise again. I needed to talk to someone who would understand my situation and tell me that my child would be completely normal, or at least what should I expect, if there were some differences.

I spent the last couple of hours of my shift sighing, looking at the passers-by through the window distractedly, and even pacing up and down in front of the counter. When I got bored of that, I started moving all the objects that were lying next to the till around, dusting and reorganizing, forcing myself to keep my mind, like my eyes, focused on my busy hands, rather than the nagging thoughts.

Mr. Turner, taking pity on me, let me go ten minutes earlier, as soon as Lia appeared in front of the window, waving at me through the glass.

I thanked him as I ran to collect my things from the kitchen, then said goodbye to Anne when I rushed past her on my way out, leaving the two of them to wait for Jessica without me.

Smiling at Lia, I stepped outside and took a deep breath of the chilly air. I laced my arm through hers contentedly, feeling happy that she was coming with me. Maybe she would come up with something more intelligent and useful than I had.

We only made it to the traffic lights, lost in conversation about Bram Stoker, Lucas, and the possible, secret vampire or half-vampire community of London, when William materialised in front of us suddenly, making us both jump.

"Samara, we need to talk," he announced without any preamble, adding an unconvinced "Hi, Lia, it's nice to see you again," when he noticed her regarding him coolly.

"Would you give us a moment? I must talk to Samara," he asked after a while when neither of us moved nor replied.

"Do you want me to, Sam? Shall I leave you with him?" Lia asked, turning towards me.

"No, thank you, Lia. I have nothing more to tell him," I said to her, then continued, looking at William as I added, "Honestly, you are becoming ridiculous."

I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but it seemed that there was no other way to do this. "William, we are over. But I have told you this already. What else do you want from me?"

He stepped closer to me and reached out, as if to take my free hand in his, then changing his mind at the last moment, he let his arm drop.

"I want one afternoon. One date. I'll take you out, we will do what we used to do. After that, if you won't change your mind, you won't hear from me anymore," he said, his eyes pleading.

I shook my head, sighing, then looked at Lia. What am I to do? I asked silently, looking in her eyes for help. She nodded and shrugged infinitesimally, letting me know that she didn't see any harm in accepting William's proposal. Maybe it is the closure he needs to move on... I reasoned with myself.

"Okay, William. Sunday afternoon. But it's not a date, understand? A couple of hours maximum. And you promise to let me be after," I listed my conditions.

"Fine, fine, whatever you want," he said, relaxing, a huge smile spreading over his face. "Shall I pick you up at home? I haven't seen your mum in a while."

"No. I'll meet you here in Hammersmith, in front of the tube station at, say, four o'clock." I would be banished from home and living at Lia's by Sunday, but he didn't need to know that.

"All right, I'll call you later then. Have a nice afternoon, girls," he called over his shoulder, already jogging across the road, towards the theatre.

"Please explain to me why I agreed with this?" I asked Lia, letting go of her arm and bringing the fingers of both my hands to my temples. I was tired and in for another headache.

Lia rummaged through her bag shortly, then passed me a bottle of water. "You two must talk properly. Make him understand that he's just wasting his time and energy here. Tell him that you are pregnant, if you must," she said when we resumed our walk towards the tube station.

I shook my head. "It's not his business, Lia."

"Exactly. He has nothing to do with it or with the rest of your life any longer. You must show him how easily you moved on. So he might do the same."

Well, she's got a point, I mused as we boarded the correct train crowded with London's commuters.

"Now don't think about William anymore and enlighten me about this idea of questioning Bram Stoker's descendants," she said, grinning at me while the train sped through the dark tunnels, jerking us closer or wider apart at each bend of the rail. "You never stop surprising me, Samara; my life would be dull without you," she added dramatically after a few moments, making me roll my eyes at her instead of trying to speak over the annoyingly loud rail squeal of the braking train as we approached another stop.

It wasn't difficult to prove to her that there was very little, or better, nothing else that I could do, really. I needed answers to my questions and maybe even some help to get back to Vlad safely. Anyone even distantly connected to Bram Stoker, the only person who had met Vlad, or at least the only one that I knew about, would be an important source of information. By the time we got off the train in Pimlico, Lia agreed that I had nothing to lose by trying to talk to one of them.

We didn't take more than a handful of steps down the road, in the direction of St.Georges Square, when Lucas appeared in front of us, rushing towards the tube station.

How come he is... everywhere?

"What are you doing here?" I snapped at him when he stopped in front of us, only to hear him echo my own question back at me.

"I... I've got things to do here," I stammered, unable to invent anything better so fast. But I wasn't going to tell him the truth, of course. "How about you?" What is he doing in Pimlico?

"My uncle lives here, if you must know... " Lucas started, looking at me intently for a few moments. Then, a sort of sudden realisation seemed to brighten his dark, inquisitive irises. "Oh, so it was you then..." He laughed as if he was enjoying some private joke. "How did you find out?" 

I observed him, feeling perplexed, as he shook his head while trying to suppress a bemused laughter. A laughter that I could not comprehend. How annoying.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

"So you don't know?" he asked, serious again, his eyes searching mine for hints and clues. But to what?

"Lucas, you're not making sense!" I called, reaching out and grabbing him by his arm, as my confusion morphed into anger.

He was driving me mad. I needed answers fast, and he, instead of helping me, was making it all more difficult.

Without saying anything more, he released himself from my grasp and moved away from us, resuming his walk towards the station. "I'll see you, Samara."

"Wait, we must talk, I need to ask you something!" I called just before he disappeared down the steep, dim staircase leading into the underground.

"Not now!" Lucas' voice trailed back to me, but he did not stop.

Exasperating man!

"Hmmm... what was that about?" Lia asked.

"I have no idea," I admitted. Just what had he been talking about?

We reached the garden in silence and sat patiently in front of number twenty-six, talking, or simply staring at the row of old houses across the road, until it got completely dark and started to rain. As on the previous day, there was no sign of life from the house we were looking at or the two closest to it, and no one opened the door when I knocked.

"Maybe we should think of another plan," Lia said after a long silence as we exited the Hammersmith tube station and walked towards my bus stop. "This might be just a waste of time, in the end. You'll only catch a cold, sitting on that bench every afternoon." She shivered, making me shiver at the memory, too. It had been cold out there.

"But what else can I do, Lia?" I asked, tears threatening. I had been really hoping to find some help.

"Come on, we will think about something better," Lia said encouragingly, pulling me in an embrace. "Go home, warm up and rest, don't worry about anything," she added as my bus pulled over in front of us.

"Well, until we do, I'll go back to Pimlico every afternoon," I announced, not wanting to give up so easily.

"Ok. I know there's no point in trying to talk you out of it," she said as I got on the bus.

I smiled at her and called through the closing door, "I'll have another box for you tomorrow."

She smiled back, nodding while the bus eased into the stream of traffic flowing lazily towards the river.