Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

Perfect Shade of Lipstick

"Do you know what makes the best shade of lipstick?" Has nothing to do with the Cullens. 1204741731_red-spangle-lips.jpg picture by Babe7777 Banner made by the wonderfully amazing Emmett_Lover (!) UNDER RECONSTRUCTION! I've been re-working a LOt of it, in my head, so I will be changing things, some major some not so much. I reccomend re-reading once I re post the chapters. (Chapter 1 is new)


4. Chapter 4

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1550   Review this Chapter

One of Two

Detective Nick Rogers is not accustomed to being taken by surprise. In fact, it is nearly impossible with his sensitive hearing. Well, sensitive by human standards. And also his gut, without fail, will always let him know when he is somehow not on his own. So naturally, when he glances up from reviewing his ‘Succubus’ case file (again) he is more than a little startled to find that he is no longer looking at the wall of his office, but at the most amazing cleavage any man has ever laid eyes on. With a yelp of unfamiliar alarm he drops his case file into a now unorganized mass of papers. Irritation slips in with his alarm, he had spent twenty of his valuable minutes getting every piece of paper stacked exactly on top of the other and now it is an annoying jumbled mess on his pristine desk.

Tapping into Nick Rogers’ thoughts the exquisite woman can’t help but smirk. Great, so he’s one of those crazy neat-freaks. This should be interesting, she thinks in a laugh. Nick, sitting before her looses his short lived annoyance and returns his gaze back to her (cleavage). Slowly his blue eyes travel up her exposed neck to her face. He takes in her pale skin, her bluish veins, her dark billowy mahogany hair, lusciously red lips (blood stained unbeknownst to him), small pointed nose, and deep green eyes. His heart beats faster, pushing blood to lower extremities.

“W-why…. How…you….in here?” He manages to stutter out. Nick’s detective training begins to kick in and he regains focus (mostly). “How did you get into my office? I didn’t hear you open the door. Who are you? What do you want?” His words start to tumble into one another, so he just stops with those questions. His voice comes out slightly squeaky and the woman rolls her eyes at how easy it is to over power human men. Even if the man is nicely muscled like the one sitting startled in front of her.

“Well, slow down cowboy. I can only answer one question at a time. Which would you like me to answer first?” She woman purrs as she leans her forearms down on the detective’s desk. His pupils dilate, but he stays as focused as he can be. Clearing his throat as he chooses the question he wants answered first.

“How did you get in here,” he asks. It’s not a priority question, but he is deathly curious to how this woman snuck up on him.

“Hmm… How do I explain,” she muses to herself. “I wanted to be here, so I closed my eyes, willed myself here, opened my eyes and now I am here before you. My kind are able to do that, as you should know”

Nick nods and continues his questioning. “Why are you here?”

“Straight to the point, I like you Detective Nick Rogers.”

“Just call me Nick, I hate formalities like that. Now please continue.”

“Nick, then. I am here to give you information I know you will find rather helpful.” She continues before he can interrupt. “But. I want something in return. It’s not much, but you must agree to my terms before I tell you who your Succubus is. Do you understand this Nick?

Nodding vigorously he grabs a pen and clean piece of paper, ready to take notes. This is the break he has been needing. Everything he has tried has been a dead end. And it doesn’t help that the killer is impeccably clean and thorough. This could make him as a detective. This is a victory he needs.

“I want absolutely no jail time,” startled Nick looks up. That is an odd request. What had the woman done? “I want to help you with your case. I don’t need to be paid. I’ll just be a civilian you find invaluable. That’s all for now. If you accept these terms I will tell you my last one,” she says ticking off on her red painted fingernails.

“You got it,” Nick says. “Give me a name.” He’ll give anything and everything to find this murdering she-devil. Too bad she’s standing right in front of him. She smiles, nods and moves to an erect position floating back a little ways from Nick’s desk. She does a quick circle before she lightly lifts her hands and indicates to herself as if showing off a new necklace she had just bought.

“Me,” she whispers loud enough for him to hear.

Quickly, for a human, Nick Rogers stands up (pushing his leather roller chair back into the wall), draws his gun, and aims it at her face. “Whoa! Don’t move an inch!” He spits lightly as he shouts. The woman drops her arms and grimaces. She knew this was inevitable, but still, it was taking too much of her time.

“I could stop that bullet, make it turn around, and have it go through your head thirteen times before it ever fully left the barrel! Now put that silly thing away. I need to talk to you and I if have to restrain you I will. With pleasure and my favorite whip.” Her annoyance leaking clearly into her voice as she snaps at him. Nick considers briefly (but not briefly enough for her not to notice) being smacked by her favorite whip, but decides better of it. Carefully he returns his gun to his holster.

“So you’re my psycho ‘Succubus’? What do you want? To turn yourself in, help me find you, and then not go to jail? Did I get that right?” He can’t believe it. It makes absolutely no sense! What is her motive? She needs a shrink. Badly.

“Not entirely. I’m turning myself in, but I don’t want to go to jail or get your poison injection. What I want to help you do is find the person who is copying me. I can’t have anyone partaking in my good name.” The vampire is calm, though her eyes tighten slightly, and Nick knows this is a good thing. If he were to upset her he would be her next victim.

“Wait,” he says holding his hands up in front of him and ducking his head. “Another vampire is out there copying you?!”


“And what you want is to help me find that vampire, because they are ‘muddying’ your good name. How many men has this other person killed?”

“One, the man who was used as sustenance last night. I was across town at a strictly vampire party last night. I have many people who can verify I was there, though I doubt you would find it healthy to speak with them. Their tolerance for humans is much less than mine. But the rest are mine. I can show you if you like?” As she explains she drifts closer to the desk. It is now the only thing separating them. The vampire and the human; the hunter and the hunted; the powerful and the weak; the woman and the man. Nick’s desk is the no-mans-land between them, similar to the area that once separated North and South Korea.

“No, I don’t want you to show me right now. I need to wrap my head around this,” Nick says sinking into his comfortable leather roller chair.

“Good, because I have somewhere I need to be. Meet me at midnight at this address,” suddenly there is a local address written across the clean sheet of paper Nick had taken out earlier. “But you’ll need this to get in. Humans aren’t usually allowed in; this will give you safe passage in to the bar, but only for so long.”

She blinks herself to the other side of the Nick’s desk, appearing rather close to him. He’s startled, but knows better than to jump out of his seat (again). Slowly, she grabs onto his wrist, rolling up the cuff of his starched shirt in a blink of Nick’s eye. With her crimson painted index finger she paints a charred black symbol. It’s a cross between a backwards capital cursive ‘E’ and the ‘Om’ symbol. “It means you belong to me until I remove it. No vampire will touch you, they fear me too much,” she whispers into his ear.

The woman blinks herself back to her side of the desk. She decides that she will risk her queasiness and walk home instead if just willing her body there. At a human pace she turns and heads toward Detective Nick Rogers’ door. Dazed Nick follows her with his eyes, amazed at how she blinks and moves from one place to the next.

Realizing something vital he stands up. “What’s your name?”

Looking back over her shoulder she whispers into his mind.