The crowd filtered back through the door, one by one, except for a young boy in breeches and a cap who went dashing off, his shoes hitting the street with sharp taps as he ran into the night. It was as though the house, having spewed forth a few moments of life and family and vitality, now sucked its occupants back inside to its warmth and protection.

Even if I had wished to, I would have been unable to follow after them. Humans must invite their doom in – whether they are aware of it or not. Without an invitation inside we vampires cannot enter any home, exiled from the warm hearths and friendly companionship that houses promise, left out in the night to simply watch.

I turned to go, already having stayed far longer than I had intended.

‘Hold there, young man.’

The voice was so confident, deep and stentorian that I was pulled back as if compelled by some Power.

Standing in the doorway was a figure I surmised to be the man of the house and father of the girl I had saved. He was happily fat, with the kind of girth that causes a man to stand back on his heels. He wore expensive clothes made from wool and tweed, well tailored but in casual patterns. Comfortable summed up his entire demeanour, from his ginger mutton chop whiskers to his sparkling black eyes to the half-smile that pulled at the left side of his mouth. It seemed he had worked hard for a large portion of his life; calloused hands and a redness about his neck attested to the fact that he hadn’t inherited his wealth.

For a moment the thought flashed through my head: how easy it would be to lure him out here. One more step…his corpulent body would provide me with enough blood to sate my hunger for days. I felt my jaw ache with the desire that would coax my fangs out, that would bring this man his death.