Darcy Branwyn

My writing playlist: Static. The lyrics in this song match Jonas and Catherine so well. She’s working a dead end job, barely getting by. She’s the “wild thing” in this song, “pretending to be tame”. Jonas, a two-hundred and fifty year old vampire, is the “wild thing trapped inside a cage”. He has no vampire family, his creator having been destroyed before he’d even woken up as a vampire with no idea who or what he was, or why he’d been cursed… until Catherine.

…Catherine Claymore finished sealing the last envelope and added it to her stack, contemplating whether working ten hours a day only to barely pay her rent and have enough left over for ramen noodles and generic cat food was seriously worth it.

Maybe it was time to admit defeat and go home. She stopped herself. No, just no. The tirade her dad would give her when she sulked back home defeated would suck even worse.

She pulled on her jacket and grabbed her purse, then shut out the light. She locked the door, double checked it just in case, and then left the office. Her bosses, Sperry and Kurt had already gone for the day, having left her with a mountain of mail that had to be sorted through and sent out the next morning.

She took the stairs down to the street. She was only on the third floor and it wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes it was faster than the elevator, and at least that way she could be left alone. She walked into the dark. It was early spring and it was still chilly, especially after sunset. She tied off her jacket and started her walk home. A cab would have been nice, or her own car. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford either of them.

She skirted around the drunken man on the corner. She’d given him all the cash she could spare yesterday. He’d probably already spent it at the liquor store down the street.

Head down to beat the wind, she walked a little faster. She really needed some inserts for her shoes. Those heels had looked so cute at the store, especially considering they were on clearance, but the blister she was getting on her heel had other plans for her life.

 Lamenting the dire conditions of unpaid bills, a know-it-all father, no options, and a hungry cat at home, she ran straight into some guy on the sidewalk.

Damn, he was tall. She stepped back, rubbing her forehead where it had bounced off his sternum. Good thing she was hard-headed. She was about to ask him if he was made of iron, but then she made the mistake of looking up, and up, into vivid blue eyes. There was something unnatural about him.

She took a step back. “Sorry,” she said.

Catherine peeled her hair off her face to see him better. He was beautiful, in an ethereal kind of way. He smelled good too, not that she could name the scent. He had long brown hair, tied back, and a trim—obviously—hard body. As if that wasn’t enough, he had a new beard, just scruffy enough to make her lose her way in hopes that he might find it for her.

Then he smiled, and she really was lost. “My pleasure,” he said.

A sense of humor, huh? That was a change from the grumps she came into contact with all day long. She tried to decide where to go with that, but he was a little too beautiful and her brain was taking a vacation.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked, dumbly.

“No,” he said, lips widening into a full out smile. “I would’ve remembered that.”

“Oh.” She smiled back; she couldn’t not. Why couldn’t she have him as her next door neighbor, or even her boss? She might actually want to go to work. She could stuff envelopes all day long if it meant staring at him.

He didn’t say anything else.

He looked like a statue, looming over her there. Was he even breathing?

“Well, sorry,” she said, edging past him. Her heart was hammering. She kept going, forcing herself forward.

Suddenly, her steps slowed, and she stopped altogether. Catherine stood there for a moment, trying to recall herself. It was a lost cause. She turned to see if he was still there, or if he’d mysteriously disappeared into the other-world he’d come through. She didn’t even know why she’d looked back. It was a compulsion, and she felt bound to obey it.

He was still there, tall enough to look over everyone else, blue eyes trained on her. Her heart skipped and then beat all the harder. Catherine turned away, breathing like she’d been running.

“Stop that,” she whispered to herself. “Just stop.”

She walked more slowly the rest of the way home. The whole time she had the oddest feeling, like she could still sense him. She looked back a few times, but he wasn’t there…

Repeat after me: I want to be a member. I want to be a member. I want to be a member…