tour around the town, and there was a university expert giving a tour of Dracula’s castle that she definitely wanted to be a part of. Given the expense of the trip, this would probably be the only opportunity she’d have to visit, so she wanted to see and do everything.
7
N.J. Walters
Her friends had thought her weird, but Johanna had always been fascinated with vampires. It had begun the day before her eighteenth birthday when a friend had given her the classic novel by Bram Stoker for a present, making fun of the fact she had the same last name as one of the characters.
“Maybe you’re a bloodsucking vampire,” her friend had teased. “I mean, didn’t one of the main characters have the last name Harker like you? Maybe you’re a relative?”
Johanna had devoured the book from start to finish, captivated by the powerful, alluring figure of Dracula.
Then the dreams had begun. Not the nightmares that her mother had predicted, but long, hot encounters with a man who, at the end of the dream, always turned out to be a vampire. She’d been having the dreams every night of the full moon for almost twelve years now. The night of her eighteenth birthday had been the beginning and she remembered that dream as vividly as the night it occurred…
Tucked upstairs in the far corner of her parent’s home in an older suburb of Chicago, her childhood bedroom was shrouded in darkness, lit only by the glow of the full moon that poured through the open window. The sheer white curtains fluttered in the breeze as she rolled over in bed and gazed out at the night. One moment she was alone, and the next, he was there, standing in the shadows at the end of the bed. She was not afraid of his presence, but rather, she had been waiting for him. He advanced towards her, his movements fluid and graceful. She gasped as a beam of moonlight illuminated his features. Striking and dangerous were the two words that popped into her head. Dressed entirely in black, his great height and massive shoulders almost immediately blocked out most of the light. As if sensing her need to see him better, he turned slightly so she could make out his features. Long dark hair was swept back from his face, falling in a curtain of silk around his shoulders. His forehead was prominent, and his cheekbones were high. Quirked in a half smile, his lips were thin, yet surprisingly sensual. For a moment, his eyes seemed to 8
Harker’s Journey
glow an eerie red before fading to dark once again. As much as she strained, she could not make out their color.
“Green.” His deep, slightly accented voice answered her unasked question. She felt his voice, for it seemed to vibrate deep inside her, causing her to yearn for something. What that craving was, she wasn’t sure, but she longed to hear him speak again.
“Sit, please.” Scooting over to the center of the bed, she patted the white duvet next to her.
A satisfied smile crossed his face as he sank to the mattress. He said nothing and sat as still as a stone. Predator . The word flashed in her head and a deep fear rose within her as her heart began to pound in her chest.
His dark laughter filled the air, and one of his large hands covered her fluttering heart. The heat from his palm seared her chest. She wanted to move, but she was paralyzed by fear. His green-eyed gaze captured hers and she could not tear away from their terrible beauty. For a moment she thought she was dead, and lamented the fact that there were so many things left in life that she wanted to do. As the thought flashed through her mind, his face took on such a look of pain and sorrow that she would have done anything he’d asked of her if it would alleviate his torment. She’d never seen such a look of anguish, and for a brief moment she experienced the deep suffering of his very soul.
“You are the one.” His voice was laced with surprise and what sounded like hope. He sat back and pulled his hand away, holding it fisted in his lap.
7
N.J. Walters
Her friends had thought her weird, but Johanna had always been fascinated with vampires. It had begun the day before her eighteenth birthday when a friend had given her the classic novel by Bram Stoker for a present, making fun of the fact she had the same last name as one of the characters.
“Maybe you’re a bloodsucking vampire,” her friend had teased. “I mean, didn’t one of the main characters have the last name Harker like you? Maybe you’re a relative?”
Johanna had devoured the book from start to finish, captivated by the powerful, alluring figure of Dracula.
Then the dreams had begun. Not the nightmares that her mother had predicted, but long, hot encounters with a man who, at the end of the dream, always turned out to be a vampire. She’d been having the dreams every night of the full moon for almost twelve years now. The night of her eighteenth birthday had been the beginning and she remembered that dream as vividly as the night it occurred…
Tucked upstairs in the far corner of her parent’s home in an older suburb of Chicago, her childhood bedroom was shrouded in darkness, lit only by the glow of the full moon that poured through the open window. The sheer white curtains fluttered in the breeze as she rolled over in bed and gazed out at the night. One moment she was alone, and the next, he was there, standing in the shadows at the end of the bed. She was not afraid of his presence, but rather, she had been waiting for him. He advanced towards her, his movements fluid and graceful. She gasped as a beam of moonlight illuminated his features. Striking and dangerous were the two words that popped into her head. Dressed entirely in black, his great height and massive shoulders almost immediately blocked out most of the light. As if sensing her need to see him better, he turned slightly so she could make out his features. Long dark hair was swept back from his face, falling in a curtain of silk around his shoulders. His forehead was prominent, and his cheekbones were high. Quirked in a half smile, his lips were thin, yet surprisingly sensual. For a moment, his eyes seemed to 8
Harker’s Journey
glow an eerie red before fading to dark once again. As much as she strained, she could not make out their color.
“Green.” His deep, slightly accented voice answered her unasked question. She felt his voice, for it seemed to vibrate deep inside her, causing her to yearn for something. What that craving was, she wasn’t sure, but she longed to hear him speak again.
“Sit, please.” Scooting over to the center of the bed, she patted the white duvet next to her.
A satisfied smile crossed his face as he sank to the mattress. He said nothing and sat as still as a stone. Predator . The word flashed in her head and a deep fear rose within her as her heart began to pound in her chest.
His dark laughter filled the air, and one of his large hands covered her fluttering heart. The heat from his palm seared her chest. She wanted to move, but she was paralyzed by fear. His green-eyed gaze captured hers and she could not tear away from their terrible beauty. For a moment she thought she was dead, and lamented the fact that there were so many things left in life that she wanted to do. As the thought flashed through her mind, his face took on such a look of pain and sorrow that she would have done anything he’d asked of her if it would alleviate his torment. She’d never seen such a look of anguish, and for a brief moment she experienced the deep suffering of his very soul.
“You are the one.” His voice was laced with surprise and what sounded like hope. He sat back and pulled his hand away, holding it fisted in his lap.
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