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It was not the first time he laid eyes on his newest prey, but it was different, now, as they stood on either side of the threshold. He could not compel the other to enter, but that did not matter – the obligations of society and the threats of the wilderness were more than enough to do it for him.
And once Jonathan Harker stepped over that threshold, then he would be Dracula’s to do with as he pleased.
The anticipation was sweet, and the resolution of it even sweeter. It had been such a long time since Dracula had had a guest, such a long time since there had been any entertainment in his prey. The surrounding areas had long since grown accustomed to his predation, and while the joy of their fear had not entirely dulled, the precautions they took had long since become irritating and inconvenient. But even when those failed, he could not savor a hunt, watching his prey grow more and more agitated and uncertain under a threat they did not understand. No, he was far too much of a known quantity to the people now, and there was little amusement to be had in the fear of what was known.
But this solicitor, now. He did not yet know to fear him. Ah, breaking that into him slowly would be a treat Dracula had almost forgotten. What a joy, what a thrill it was to have someone entirely in his power! What pleasure there was in terrorizing a man who was utterly dependent on him, who could not offer protest! Terror, slow terror, was the finest way to age his wine, and he had not had such a vintage in many years.
He could not partake just yet.
But it would not be long now.