“Hello space cadet,” Trace complained as he hurried out of the building after Justin. It was difficult – Justin had far longer legs than he did and keeping up could be awkward when he was practically running out of places like he was now. “What gives?”

“Nothing,” Justin answered without ever really seeming to respond. Sure, it went with the question and it seemed like he was talking to Trace, problem was he was looking everywhere but at Trace.

“Nothing made you run out of that long ass line at the speed of light when we were two customers away from getting our coffee? I repeat, what gives?”

“Nah, I just…” Justin stopped dead in the street, took one last scan over the landscape in front of him and then slumped, the tension leaving his shoulders. “Sorry. Thought I saw somebody.”

“Somebody you couldn’t call later instead of running out after ‘em?”

“It’s fine, sorry. You still want coffee?”

“Yeah but I don’t want to go back to the end of that line so how about we head home?”

“Okay.”

Justin tried not to visibly sigh as he turned and trudged after Trace. He’d never live it down if he told his friend that he’d run out of the restaurant after a girl he’d met for five seconds and scared away with a little static electricity. Hell, he wasn’t even letting himself live it down so why should Trace? He felt like an idiot, obsessing over her. It was totally unlike him, especially after so short an acquaintance, but he couldn’t get her coal black hair and sculpted cheekbones out of his head. And her eyes… eyes so dark they were almost the colour of ink in a bottle, eyes which he’d been seeing in his sleep for the last week. It was ridiculous. He didn’t get teenage crushes on anybody, let alone some random chick he’d only that second clapped eyes on.

“So are we still going to this thing tonight?”

Another thing to sigh about – he’d been doing the rounds at various parties lately to promote both the fashion line and his label, and it bored him to death. Still, he had to do it. Yanking his hood over his head as if he could hide from the world under it, he nodded. “Esmée is performing, I really ought to show. You don’t have to if you got somewhere better to be.”

“Would you mind?”

“Nah, go for it. Hell knows I wouldn’t be there if I didn’t have to.”

“Thanks, you’re a pal. Can you at least haul out of there early?”

“She’s on about an hour in so I figure if I show up half an hour before and then leave half an hour after that should be respectable.”

He’d been about to say something else, but then a dark haired figure clad in jeans strolled past and he immediately had to turn his head to see if it was her. On closer inspection it couldn’t be, way too short. Once again he cursed himself for his pubescent behaviour; he was a grown man, he should be far too old for such things. His attractions always went the same way. He saw a woman, liked what he saw, they chatted; he got a feel for her personality. The vibe was relaxed, flirty, with merely a dash of tension. . It was deeply strange  that he would be so sprung so fast when he’d never been the type of man who went weak at the knees on first sight, that wasn’t his style. He didn’t obsess over women, didn’t spend nights having erotic yet disturbing dreams about them. Didn’t wake up so disoriented that he could barely tell reality from his subconscious.

The weirdest one by far had been walking through nineteenth century Prague. He knew nothing much about Prague and even less about the nineteenth century, yet somehow he’d known exactly where he was and where he was going. The detail was astonishing, right down to the period dress. She had been there next to him her arm hooked through his, pointing out sights as they strolled along, chatting gaily away to Michael. That was the weirdest part – he hadn’t been himself. He’d been some guy named Michael, and yet that name felt as familiar to him as his own. As familiar as the kiss she’d given him when he’d yanked her into a side alley and covered her mouth with his.

All this over some chick named Charlotte who worked at a charity and really didn’t like getting a static shock. Sometimes he questioned his sanity.

“You wanna wait here while I go get the car?”

“Sure.” He waved Trace off without registering very much. Justin was happy to stand there and stare into space, mulling through his thoughts.

Slowly, he began to become aware of two people speaking behind him in hushed tones. Eavesdropping wasn’t his thing and there was no particular reason he should be interested, yet somehow his ears had a mind of their own and began to tune in.

“That’s my fifth this week.”

“Eight for me.”

“Yikes, so that’s what… a dozen between us and we’re only half done? This shit’s getting screwy.”

“That’s what I was saying to Katherine last night. I don’t like this.”

Maybe it was the voice. The voice was sounding weirdly familiar. If déjà vu was a virus, he’d picked up a chronic case of it at the moment. With his hands in his pockets he scuffed at the ground with his sneakers, trying to cut them out but unable to stop himself from listening.

“Time to mention something to the boss?”

“Not until we’ve got something concrete. No point getting him all wound up for nothing.”

“True. I just won’t rest easy until we figure this out.”

“When do we ever get to rest easy?”

A low chuckle sounded. “Touché, Charmian, touché.”

“Well I’m at this thing tonight, you coming with or you got somewhere else to be?”

Justin wasn’t sure what made him turn around at that moment. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was some siren call, but the voice was beginning to bug him and he wanted to turn around and see the face so he could convince himself that he did not know the speaker. The problem was that when he turned around he did – as much as you could know somebody through the sandman, anyway.

Charmian’s eyes met Justin’s and her breath caught a little in her throat. She’d paid little attention to the human lingering nearby; he was out of earshot and looking in the other direction. If he’d had his hood down she would have seen it was him and moved swiftly away, but it was too late now. The look of recognition on his face didn’t escape her and she feared it. She knew there was no way he’d remember her from their encounter, so if she’d stuck in his head at all it was for bad, bad reasons that would only bring badness.

“Hey, it’s Charlotte right?”

‘Is that him?’ A voice sounded in her head, Carmel speaking telepathically. They only did it when around humans, talking aloud took a lot less energy.

‘One and the same.’

‘Guess I’d better leave you two to it.’

‘Don’t you dare!’

It was too late, however, Carmel had already given a breezy smile and goodbye, giving Justin a nod before scooting off down the street. A stream of swear words was sounding in her brain and she made sure Carmel could hear her.

“It’s Justin.” He took her silence for lack of recognition. “From the party the other night, electric shock guy?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Her smile was shaky, not her usually well practised insincerity. Normally she could present any face she wanted to humans without breaking a sweat, but he had always been an exception. “How are you?”

“Good, good. You?”

“Good.”

“That’s good.”

An awkward silence ensued for a few moments, which Justin broke with a short laugh and scratching behind his ear. “Umm, this might sound a little forward, but I didn’t get a chance to ask for your number at the thing and was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee some time.”

This time thinking it in her head didn’t cut it. Charmian really wanted to curse out loud. For his own good, she had been ignoring the constant pull she felt towards him. History taught that getting involved with her did not end well for him and she really didn’t want to watch him die for the ninth time. Eight times was already eight times too many without adding another untimely demise to the tally. Yet here he was, once again, crushing her hope once more. He had crushed it when he’d turned up at that party, and he’d crushed it now by proving Katherine and all her warnings right. She hadn’t wanted to listen when Katherine had repeatedly told her that he would keep showing up whether she liked it or not, and managing not to see him for a week had given her foolish optimism.

“Umm, sure. Do you have a card, I can call you?”

“Sure, sure…” Immediately he fumbled in his pockets and Charmian felt awful knowing that she would be tossing it in a trash can at the first opportunity. That was how mortal women avoided dates, she figured – but disappointing him still yanked painfully at her insides. “here you go.”

“Thanks. Well, I got to run so… I’ll call you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

His bright smile only made her feel worse, so she gave a weak little wave and turned her back on him before turning the first corner she could find and then running at top speed away from the scene of the crime.