“I do not want to talk about it,” he mutters, turning his face away.
Great. So much for conversation, then.
I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall. Just as it occurs to me I’m offering up my throat to a hungry vampire, something skitters across my hand and I jump a f*****g mile.
“What the hell was that?” Suddenly I’m on my feet.
“It was just a rat,” Viktor tells me like it’s f*****g nothing.
I do not yelp. I merely utter a manly sound of disapproval. Whilst scrubbing my hand off on my jeans so hard it hurts. I’m looking all around, trying to see the scrabbly, worm-tailed little bastard before it can climb up my leg and—no, let’s not even go there. I think I may just possibly be starting to hyperventilate when I become aware of a wheezy sort of sound coming from Viktor’s dir
