Corrupting Van Helsing
I met the young Van Helsing at the train station. A meek Dutch boy, he was casually leaning against the railing waiting for me. I recognised him straight away but he only knew it was me when I bounded up and gave a quick hug. Meet-and-greets in public places have always been awkward for me, I prefer to take my men straight to the bedroom. The bohemian, lightly-bearded boy, fifteen years my younger, took me to a great little Mexican street cafe for lunch. We talked on many topics – the boy was an intellectualist, which I loved – but