He followed the movement of the top of her head, observing the way her long hair swished as she kept going, and rather more confidently than he could ever normally tolerate. Perhaps it was because he had grown so accustomed to being admired, and stared at, and fantasised about, and propositioned by the women who flocked to the club every night in the hope he would sink his fangs into their neck - or other places, for that matter. Maybe that was what made her reaction - or lack of it, so wholly unexpected. However, the way she subconsciously bid him follow her with her graceful walk was all too enticing to Eric, and he stalked off after her towards the darkened corner.

"Pam! It's so good to see you! I was looking for you before..." The pair hugged and started gossiping in the way that only girls know how.

Although he knew she was with Pam, his child and yes, former lover, Eric found something all too stimulating about the way the pair embraced each other, the way their arms locked around each other's bodies, something about seeing her make contact with a woman in that way, so much so that his current, vivid imagination could clearly see how another female would be most welcome when he –

"I should probably introduce you to my maker – Eric." The familiar Voice Of Doom interjected, disturbing his little and very, very pleasant happy dream. Finally, Pam and the girl turned to the impatient Viking.

"Kat this is Eric. Eric, Kat – that friend I told you about."

"Pleasure to meet you," Kat said, smiling, almost business-like and – nope, no kiss on the cheek or so much as a whispered suggestion. She offered him a handshake. Him. The hottest guy in the district. A handshake. While embarrassing for any man of his looks and stature, for a vampire, it was degrading still – vamps, while owning the potential to be cordial should they wish – never ever shook hands. It was like the unspoken law, and something which humans had to learn quickly to accustom themselves to. And here was this woman in front of him, grinning, with her arm outstretched, as if his ethereal perfection and commanding presence meant nothing to her. Yet he took it – he humbled himself for this beautiful girl with a beautiful voice, feeling her soft skin and looking deep into her perfect dark eyes.

"I'm sure I haven't seen you at the club before..."

"Kat's here with her brother. He's the usual singer of the band." Pam answered for her, angering Eric slightly. Clearly his attempts at a conversation were not going to work while she was still in the room. He wanted to hear her voice again, that slight accented lilt... he wanted to hear her say his name with need and passion...

"Yes but the band needed a female singer to do some of the Tristania covers so I stepped in."

"Tristania?"

"They're an amazing Norwegian band! You haven't heard of them?"

"Can't say that I have..." Eric silently cursed himself. He should have told her he knew the band. He should have told her he knew everything about her. He needed her to see the connection he could feel so strongly. "So how long have you and Pam known each other?"

"Well Kat needed something to wear for her first gig a few months ago so I assume her brother told her to find me... and we've been friends ever since." Pam said, again annoying Eric by answering for the girl, smiling slightly as she read the interest in her master's eyes that her friend was oblivious to.

"Pam, that reminds me - when do you want this top back?"

Luckily the emergence of Kat's brother saved Eric from being transported down the blissful road of imagining her removing her clothes. He sauntered over to them, winked at Pam and told Kat that they were about to start the next song.

"I'll just be a second, Marat." He nodded and, brushing closer to Pam than he needed to, walked back up to the stage at the other end of the room.

"Well I guess I've got to go back up there!" She smiled apologetically at the two of them, "I'll see you tomorrow night, Pam?"

"Sure. Have a great gig."

"Thanks." She nodded at Eric who, for the first time in many decades, could not find the appropriate smooth-yet-not-too-obvious-but-suggestive farewell in his long list of pick-up lines. He watched longingly as she walked - no, glided - back up to the stage, hips swinging seductively. She somehow managed to be so graceful and elegant even in those heavy boots which he knew she could only have got from Camden Market, a place not too far (well, in American terms, just down the road) from the location of their club, where the flag-bearers of the alternative scene found all of their gear amongst an array of stalls, shops and druggies.

He spent the next hour watching the band. Well, if you could call lusting after the singer watching. He wished that damn brother of hers (what was his name? Marat?) wouldn't keep interrupting rudely with his singing, he wanted to hear her notes, her delightfully accented words. Finally, when the band backed away from the stage, leaving just her and the keyboardist, he was rewarded by her smooth, haunting aria, a sweet soprano which pierced through the livened atmosphere of the club, leaving a chilling calm in its wake:

"Wake up, wake up
There's an angel in the snow
Look up, look up
It's a frightened dead boy..."

"Want a drink?" Pam was offering Eric a juicy young brunette who virtually prostrated herself in front of the disinterested sheriff.

"I though you had that no feeding policy today?" He asked absently, barely noticing the meal, his eyes still focused on Kat, who was now moshing to the music, her gorgeous dark hair remaining perfectly in shape as she swung it back behind her shoulders.

"Well yes but you're moping so much tonight that I thought my master would want a treat."

"I'm not hungry." He said, sparing a glance at the pleading girl who wanted so much to be able to tell her friends that the Viking had drunk her blood. Pam sighed and pushed the girl back into the crowd, although she was so intoxicated that she barely noticed.

"Well I can tell you're only going to accept one drink tonight - but face it, she's not on the menu." Eric looked directly at Pam, who was leaning casually next to his chair.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on Eric - you'd have to be blind and deaf not to notice that you're virtually drooling over Kat. And there's no way I'm letting you get to her, I've seen what you've done to your other 'interests' and none of them have ended well. I don't want you scaring away my friend." Eric looked daggers at Pam who, as always, stared back defiantly.

"Yes, Eric, for the first time in your life, you're going to have to control your lust."