A Dark Desire

I never do this. Ever. Dating doesn't exactly come naturally. What with my luck being abysmal, my only companion recently has been my talented fingers. Tonight, that changes. I'm unsure what to expect. My friend Lucia practically begged me to go on a date with this stranger after she met him at her work. She wouldn't tell me much, although insisted I wouldn't regret it. Check contact. The restaurant is quiet tonight, the storm gathering outside having chased off most of the potential patrons. The gentle glow from the fireplace on the far side of the room is alluring and warm, as I shrug off my wet coat. And then I see him. He sits at a table tucked into the far corner, watching me. My mouth dries. If that's him, I'm in trouble. He leans back in his chair, amidst the shadows, a dark, almost cruel look about him. It should frighten me back out the door, and yet, I'm compelled to stare back at him. Slowly, the corner of his sensuous mouth tilts up in a knowing smile. Fuck. Cautious steps lead me toward him. Men like him don't exist in this part of the city, nor do they agree to go on blind dates. They don't exactly need them. "You're not Him, are you?" I ask breathlessly, half expecting him to say no, to brush me off and summon his beautiful wife over. "Surprised?" He's not a Sector One native—I can hear it in his strange accent. His voice is like a silken caress, as if it should only be reserved for nights of raw passion. Once I'm sure he is very familiar with, "Kind of." Lucia. What have you done? He stands swiftly, making me painfully aware of his towering height, rounding the table to pull my chair out for me. I shift as his shoulder brushes against mine, his mouth coming close to my ear. "Sit down, Missy," he murmurs. Elegance be damned, I sink unceremoniously into the chair, unsure I'll ever regain the ability to control my legs again. "You can call me Damien." I let my coat slip to the floor, surveying him as he sits back down. His eyes are the most striking aspect of him. They are a dark green, like what I imagine Territory Four forests to look like. And his face. Well, the shadows accent his cruel beauty, settling beneath his sharp cheekbones, under his eyes. I feel like I'm staring at a painting. He can't be real. "Beautiful name?." His voice pulls me back to reality. The way he says beautiful — ugh cocky, it's as if I can feel him murmuring it against my skin. "You know Lucia?" I clear my throat, shifting my gaze down to the menu, absently skimming over it. He takes a long drink, eyes never straying from my face. "Somewhat. I've only spoken to her that one time, at the library." "She's my best friend." "She told me you don't date often. What changed your mind?" Wow, do I tell him my past lover cheated on me, and semi-casual s*x with some b***h in my apartment complex had to suffice until I gave up on that too? "It's just because of bad past experiences. Thought I better move on from it, and try again." A faint smile plays at his lips. "I'm glad you agreed." "What enticed you into a blind date?" I ask. Why not just walk into any establishment and seduce the first beautiful person you see? I swear his gaze dips down to my lips. "The mystery." It's as if no one else in the room exists. His attention never strays from me, compelling me to subconsciously lean closer. "Are you satisfied?" I whisper. His gaze is cold, even as he smiles. "We'll see." How much will we see? Am I going to invite him back to my apartment for the night? I'm tempted, although the fear of rejection lingers in the back of my mind. I get the feeling being with Damien is a spiritual experience. "Are you from this Sector?" I already know he's not, but I need to say something to distract myself from the thoughts that cause my cheeks to flush. "Not originally. Sector Eleven, actually." I knew there was something unfamiliar about him. I've never met someone who grew up in Eleven. "Woah, really? I thought it was mostly uninhabited." "For the most part, it is." The waitress passes by and I order a drink. I feel the need to loosen up a bit, to get up the courage to ask him to come home with me by the time the night is up. What is wrong with me? Usually I don't make the decision to leave with a man until I've done more than just glance at his face. Although none have had a face quite like this man's. "What made you move here?" Damien sighs, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table. "It wasn't exactly a choice." "Why not?" He doesn't look uncomfortable with my prying, although he tenses, an unreadable look passing over his eyes. "What do you do....Do you work?" Odd change of subject, but I brush it off. "I'm studying and working. I'm hoping to get out of this Territory," I tell him. I came here a few years ago with the intention of leaving after the first, although my lack of money has unfortunately pinned me down. "Where do you want to go?" "Sector Six, I hope. Everything sounds so idyllic there." All the good romance books I read are always based in Six. It sounds so wonderful, to be amidst the pink trees, to sail down the endless rivers, and to meet the kind citizens there. Damien lets out a long breath, recalling a memory. "It is." "You've been?" He looks away, toward a window battered by miserable weather. With every question I ask him, he seems to grow colder, more distant. His sudden turn of attention back to me leaves me breathless. "Do you study your own magic?" My blood chills, my fingers instinctively rolling up into fists against my lap. I keep my mouth tightly closed as the waitress delivers my drink, never releasing Damien from my gaze. "You know?" I don't exactly advertise that I have Dove blood. Most of the time it's not enough to bother anyone, and some are wary of those with magic, even if it's a small amount. "I can see it in your eyes," Damien murmurs, watching me take a long sip from my overly sweet drink. "My powers are weak. My Dove blood is limited enough that I've never qualified to become a Noble, or even been offered a place in a protected institute," I tell him curtly. Honestly, it's embarrassing. He tilts his head, a stray black wave of hair falling down over his eye. "Why not?" "My powers aren't dangerous," I shrug, stabbing at a mint leaf amongst my ice with my straw. "Why do you assume you don't have strong abilities?" He presses. I sigh through my nose, irritated that this is even a conversation he wants to have with me. "When I was a child I tried hard to increase my powers, but eventually I hit a wall." Damien doesn't look convinced. "You were a child. Perhaps things have changed." "They haven't. I had a mentor, and they confirmed I had reached the end of my abilities, and that I should be grateful I don't have enough to become a Noble," I growl, trying to keep my voice low. "You may not have had an appropriate mentor." I close my eyes, willing myself to be calm before I open them again. "You haven't told me anything about yourself." "I would like to see you again, after this." I blink, surprised. By his interrogation, I figured he had no interest in a second date. I'm tempted to tell him to come back to mine tonight, although I quietly calm myself. "I'm free in a couple of days." He smiles tightly. "Excellent." I clear my throat, wanting to know more about this enigmatic man. "Do you work?" "Not exactly." "Do you have any friends? Maybe we could get all our friends together," I offer. Lucia would love to be privy to a date between Damien and me, and perhaps it would ease the tension. Not to mention it makes me less inclined to embarrass myself by physically pursuing him. "I don't have any interest in acquiring friends." His brows crease, jaw clenching slightly. "But you want a lover?" I almost laugh. He draws his finger over his lower lip, captivating me. "Who said I wanted a lover?" "You're on a date with me, aren't you?" Unless, of course, Damien, you're only interested in a one-night thing. I wish I had the dignity to feel bad about it, but I don't think I would have any complaints. He sighs. "Do you live close?" "Why?" He gestures to the window. "This storm doesn't appear to have any interest in stopping. I was wondering if you need accompanying back to your home?" I follow his gaze, watching a streak of lightning illuminate the sky. Unbeknownst to him, my minor magical ability allows me to transport myself from place to place, meaning I don't need to get a strand of hair wet if I don't desire to. "No, I should be fine." I wave him off. He goes quiet for a long moment, staring at me with that intense gaze, causing me to shift uneasily in my chair. The buzz from my drink is taking far too long to hit. "Have I upset you?" He asks lowly. My throat dries, as I force myself to straighten. "You unnerve me. And confuse me." "What about me confuses you?" "You act as though you don't have a past. You've told me nothing about yourself, and yet you want to see me again," I explain. Is he hiding something? I know all about dark pasts, and I get the sense Damien's was no fairytale. "Perhaps we can talk about me more on our next date," he muses. I rest both my hands against the table. "I'll go on another date with you, if you tell me one thing about yourself that no one else knows." He's silent for a long moment, pondering my offer. Eventually, he quirks his fingers at me. "Lean closer." Bracing myself against the table, I lean over it toward him, noting every detail about his face as I get closer. Every hair, every freckle. His beauty is unimaginable. His breath warms my skin, dancing over my ear as I dip my head toward him. Will he kiss me, and make good on my sinful thoughts? His voice is like an erotic caress as he murmurs in my ear, “I'm a Killer."