Urges

Damian

I stayed there at my kitchen counter with my forehead on the cool granite, waiting for the text from the McNairs. Ugh, I haven’t wanted to f**k so badly in my life till now. The fact I’m torturing myself by not just taking her when I wanted was pissing me off. But I have this need... a need for her to crave me without my vampiric charms.

It doesn’t help that I don’t sleep-much, causing me to be up all waking hours of the damn day thinking about it. It’s gotten so bad I can’t work. Maybe my team should head down here. I’m still semi-newly turned in vampire terms. Not to mention being turned in the environment I was turned in made it so no one really explained the whole ‘urges’ thing. Is this what’s going on? If that’s what it was, wouldn’t I have just taken her by now?

I leaned back, folding my arms. Na, it’s not necessarily that. Granted, I’m a predator, designed to lure people in and either make more or bleed them dry. I rubbed my chin as I tried to think of an explanation.

I remember Raz going on and on about a bound we get. It makes us completely obsessive over the object that triggered it, causing us to throw all logic out the window. My logic was long gone. You try being a twenty-six-year-old Romanian mafia member who was thrown into prison.

I was a force to be reckoned with, then that was amplified when I was turned. Took years to calm down my bloodlust. I used to stalk people like this, giving me the nickname of ‘Son of the Ripper’ until one day I ended up losing all control and murdered a kid.

I shrugged as I recalled those memories. The guilt of slaughtering that child made me want to redeem myself. I eventually was taken in by the organization I’m with now because of my abilities and ruthlessness I had when needed. I also felt a stoic duty to stop others from doing what I did. Don’t get me wrong, I still have some sense of chivalry. I can’t stand men like Jake. I know hypocritical of me, right? That’s just it though. I set my sights on something. It will be mine, and mine alone. There’s also just a pull to Poppy I can’t ignore.

A ‘ping’ from my phone snapped me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out as a grin slid across my face.

“Hi Mr. Locke, sorry to bug you again, but it seems our guest house heater isn’t working properly. Is there any way you can take a look at it today?”-Mrs. McNair

“Not a problem Mrs. McNair. My morning is clear. Be there shortly.”- Locke

My tongue slowly slid out of my mouth as I licked my lower lip. The thought of tasting her again made my crotch ache.

I let out a long sigh as I grabbed my items for my trip, tossing all my tools in a bag and throwing it over my shoulder. I received another notification as I exited my door.

I decided to walk to their house. It’d give me the time to get my urges under control. I strolled down the sidewalk, glancing up at the cloud-riddled sky. Sequim this time of year was perfect for me. It was cold, gloomy, and peaceful. Not crowded and loud like Seattle. My attention shifted to the street as several cop cars drove by me. Interesting… wonder what’s going on.

I shrugged it off, making my way to my dearest Poppy, who lives on Clover Lane. I chuckled at the irony.

I approached her house, 332 Clover Lane, strolling happily up to her door and rapping on it with the back of my knuckles. I stood there, teetering back and forth on the balls of my feet. I felt the slight hum of Poppy’s mother’s thought wave approach the door.

Everyone emits their own thought aura, allowing me to decipher who it belongs to as long as I have a line of sight, or if they are alone. If I was surrounded like I was at the club, everyone’s thoughts just rush in and become like radio static, and I have to focus on who I’m looking for. It was a neat little trick I had when I was in the mob. They called me a clairvoyant. I called it a curse. The constant slithering of people’s unspoken words sliding their way across my brain was irritating.

The sound of Mrs. McNair opening the door brought my attention back to where I was. She beamed up at me as she stepped aside for me to enter.

“Come in, come in!” she waved her hand as she wrapped her sweater around herself.

“You must be freezing! Can I get you a cup of coffee?” She asked as I wiped my feet on the mat before I entered. I shook my head as I stepped through the doorway, adjusting my hoodie as she closed the door behind me.

“Thank you for coming in on such a short notice, Mr. Locke,” she guided me to the back door, opening it. “The guest house is there, but of course you already know that,” she giggled. ‘Maybe some alone time with him will give Poppy the push she needs,’ her thought snuck its way into my head. If she knew what I was and how many people I’ve killed, she wouldn’t be thinking that.

I smirked to myself as I took the small steps downward.

The walk to the guest house felt like an eternity. My chest felt tight, my mouth felt dry... drier than normal, and my jaw refused to unclench. I felt like I was going into an interrogation. I stopped just behind Mrs. McNair as she reached out, opening the door slowly.

“Poppy! You better be decent!” She hollered as I froze like a statue behind her. This is irritating. One moment I want to be on her and the next I felt like I was trying to confess my love to a girl behind the bleachers. Maybe I’m bipolar...

“Helo-Mr. Locke?” Poppy’s succulent voice caused me to snap out of my trance. My eyes slowly drifted to her standing at the base of her stairs. Her hands were tucked behind her back as she wore an overly baggy sweater... her bare legs exposed. My eyes fell to her bandaged knee.

“How’s that doing?” I flicked my chin up towards her as she shyly looked away from me.

“B-Better,” she stammered out, smiling at me. f**k, don’t do that...

“So, the heating unit is over here, Mr. Locke.” Mrs. McNair brought my attention to the small utility closet I snuck into last night. I kept my eyes locked with Poppy as I turned to follow her mother.

‘Oh, please stop looking at me like... I’m going to explode if you don’t!’ Poppy’s thought penetrated my brain’s core. I gripped onto my bag tightly as I went to open the utility closet door.

“I’ll leave you two alone for now!” Mrs. McNair chipperly said as she went to leave.

“Oh, Poppy, don’t forget, I need your help tomorrow at the bookstore for the Christmas Eve party!”

“Mom!” Poppy hissed at her mother as her mom giggled and exited the house. My jaw muscle twitched as I pretended to root around the heating unit to see what the problem was.

‘Oh, Jess please come back, please, please.’ Poppy kept repeating to herself as she made her way to the kitchen counter.

“Um... so- what’s wrong with it?” She whispered as I stood up, wiping my hands on my jeans. I turned halfway to her, inspecting the unit. I unzipped my hoodie slowly as I turned my head towards her.

“Well, it seems your pilots are out, mic rosu.” I responded in a low sultry tone as I removed my sweater off my shoulders, plopping it down on the floor.

‘Dear... GOD!’ Her mind screamed as her tongue slipped out, ever so slightly against her lower lip. A grin crept across my face I turned back to the unit, kneeling on my sweater. I reached up inside, pretending to flip the reset switch, then moved my hand over to the valve and turned it back on.

‘Distract yourself, stop staring at his ass Poppy,’ I snorted to that as I stood back up. She raised a brow at me as she turned to her cabinet.

“Um... Water Mr. Locke?” She hesitantly asked me as she pulled a glass down for herself. I turned, facing her as a devious grin slid across my lips.