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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)


5. Chapter 5

Rating 0/5   Word Count 2711   Review this Chapter


The bar Moira told Nick to meet her at is not a human bar. This is common knowledge. So naturally, Nick is a bit nervous. It probably doesn’t help that the name of the ‘bar’ is called Blood Letter’s. Blood Letter’s is situated over on the darker side of town. Darker as in, there is always a shadow over it due to the mountain just east of it. This side of town maybe gets direct sunlight for an hour, hour-and-a-half at the maximum daily. Predictably, vampires tend to settle there. Being out of direct sunlight is preferable to them (they detest being queasy).

Nick decides to walk to Blood Letter’s. Why he cannot explain. But it most definitely has to do with the mark adorning his wrist. Her mark. Something about it being her mark making him slightly smug, as if she had chosen him and only him. It makes him feel wanted, something he likes but rarely experiences. He’s dressed all in black, as requested earlier that day by Moira after she had walked out of his office. He had been shocked when suddenly he wasn’t just listening to himself think. Her voice had infiltrated his mind when he had paused in a mental monologue. Wear all black tonight; it will make you blend in more. I don’t want you being pegged as the silly little human who wandered into the wrong bar, she had whispered to him.

“Alright, gotcha.” Nick hadn’t even realized he had spoken aloud until his assistant had looked at him like he had lost his mind. It had seemed just like she was standing next to him. He had assumed she had blinked herself to his side to tell him. Obviously, he had been wrong. He had heard her quiet laughter echoing inside his skull when he had noticed his faux pas.

Walking down the streets at nearly midnight gives Nick the creeps, especially in vampire neighborhood. All types of neon signs dot late night store fronts, Nick refuses to actually look at what they say. He does not want to know what vampires would want from shops. The closer he gets to the center of the ‘vamp land’ he begins to pass more and more people. One weak fledgling notices Nick and starts following him, hoping for a snack. But right as the fledgling is preparing to dine; Nick lifts his wrist to examine the Mark, again. With a shriek the fledgling blinks to another town, not wanting to upset one of the most powerful vampires there has ever been. Turning at the sound, Nick catches a glimpse of a young man disappearing, a look of horror on his face. Okay, yeah, walk faster, Nick thinks as he takes off at a near jog. Ahead of him is an intricately carved wooden building. Neon lights have been placed inside part of the carvings. ‘Blood Letter’s’, it reads.

With a hesitant sigh he walks up to the huge man guarding the door. In a fitted black shirt and slacks, the man towers over Nick (and Nick is 6’4”). The guard’s bulging muscles make the shirt ripple as it stretches to cover his massively toned chest. The guard, Gregory, looks down at Nick and smirks. Stupid little human. Trying to play with the big boys, he jibes to himself.

Nick gulps when he notices a fang peaking over the guards lip when he smirks down at him. Gregory’s neck bends sideways as he looks down at Nick, revealing a swirling black mark covering a large part of the right side of his neck. It resembles smoke billowing out of a chimney, but more defined and curly-looking. Taking this as a sign to show his own mark, Nick holds up his hand, revealing the charred mark on his wrist.

Gregory’s eyes widen at the mark on the humans wrist. Majes has never invited a human into Blood Letter’s. Not even once. What is so special about this human that he has the privilege of wearing this mark? Only eight vampires wear this mark, this is the first human ever to bear this powerful bit of char. Without hesitating, (in the past he had been in the line of Majes’ wrath and does not want to repeat the experience) Gregory lets Nick into the bar.

Surprised by Gregory’s reaction to his mark, Nick strides into Blood Letter’s unafraid. If a vampire that big is afraid of the mark, then he doubts others will bother him. Unbeknownst to him, build does not matter when it comes to vampire strength, all their power is in their minds. Glancing around he notices the place is packed; full of hostile vampires. Behind the bar a slight man makes all sorts of drinks from the varied bottles lining the wall behind him. Jeff, the bar tender notices Nick looking at him. Great, a new human. Why does Mr. Ex-Zavier always bring them in here?, he groans to himself.

Moira notices Nick’s out of place appearance and smiles. He came, she sighs. Whispering into his mind, she tells him which direction to look for her. All the vampires stop to watch as a human walks over to Majes’ table and sits with her. No one is allowed to sit with her, human or vampire. First they must be invited, then thank her graciously for allowing them to be in her presence. But this irrelevant human male simply walks over, slides into a chair and says, “Hey”. But what shocks every vampire is when she smiles and just lets him do it.

Moira notices everyone’s fixation on them and knows she needs to remedy the building situation. Already one of her fledglings, Alexander, is standing to come over to her, to aid her. “Watch this,” she whispers so only Nick can hear. Obliging Nick looks around the bar. Suddenly, every face jerks away from them, as if someone has grabbed their heads and pushed, forcefully.

Keep to yourselves or I will turn your heads until they break off, she speaks into every vampire’s mind in the room. Oblivious to the circulating threat, Nick looks on smugly, marveling as every vampire leaves them alone. Turning back to Moira he cocks his head to the side, raising one black eyebrow. Moira smirks, biting her bottom lip slightly, and pulses her delicate eyebrows upwards once; confirming that she did do that. Using her quick mind, she puts up a sound muffler around them, this way no eavesdroppers could learn that she had turned herself in to the human authorities.

“We can speak freely now. They won’t be able to hear us. And they know the consequences for disobeying my orders.” Wondering how every vampire came to fear this lovely creature, Nick nods, impressed.

“Wait, none of them¾,” he says gesturing to the entire bar. “Can hear us? Why not? Did you put a ‘sound barrier’ around us or something?” Sarcasm drips off of his voice like a Popsicle melting and dripping down a child’s hand. Yeah vampires can do weird stuff, but really?, he thought.

“In a way, yes. Though it is more of a muffler, the others can hear that we are talking but won’t be able to tell what we say.”

“Okay… Yeah, this is going to take some getting used too. I don’t really have friends that can do what you do. But let’s pick up where we left off. You wanted to show me something.” Nick figures if he gets straight to business he can forget that she has some crazy mind control ability. That and he is genuinely curious about what she has to show him. Photos? Video tape? A trinket she stole from each victim that he didn’t catch?

“Alright. Give me your hand. Actually give me both of them; it will make the connection stronger. And no matter what you see you must look directly into my eyes. Otherwise you won’t see anything.” As she speaks her thin hands come up out of her lap and rest palms up, on the table between them. Nick stares at her dumbfounded. Huffing she reaches out and grabs his hands, then positions his face so that he’s looking into her bright green eyes.

Nick doesn’t look away from her eyes, he is lost in them. He feels himself falling into them, and then sinking. He watches as if a reel of film is playing behind his eyes. He see’s Moira scout out each man, go back to their apartments with them, and then he see’s her kissing each man and being kissed back. But that isn’t the part that makes him want to shut his eyes (though he doesn’t dare). He see’s Moira throw each man down onto the floor and then watches as she flings her self at them. He watches as her fangs extend and sink into the exposed neck of each man. He watches it happen thirty-seven times. He see’s her pull back from the dead men under her. Then she pulls a vial from around her neck and trickles some blood into it. She does this with each victim. Kill then take the last of the blood into the vial that never leaves her neck. He see’s her approach each mirror, dribble some blood onto her perfect index finger and write ‘succubus’ on it. Then she applies more blood to her full lips, kisses the mirror and disappears. He see’s her do this thirty-seven times.

Then the scene changes. He see’s a white room, lightly furnished, and a TV is on. The words ‘Vampire Succubus Strikes Again’ flash up onto the screen. He see’s Moira become outraged. He hears her inner monologue as she rants and screams. At that moment it occurs to him that there aren’t thirty-seven bodies in the city morgue. There are thirty-eight.

Gasping, Nick leans back in his chair. Chest heaving he stares at the killer across from him. He sees all her features as they truly are now. She is no longer the epitome of beauty to him; she is the body of everything that brings death, destruction, and chaos. Moira watches as he begins to hyperventilate. She begins to fear for his health, she almost forgot how fragile humans are.

She rises out of her seat extending her arm and laying her palm flat against his chest; over his heart. Horror washes over his features. What is she going to do to me?, he shrieks in his head. Assuring him with her eyes, Moira waits until his heart beat is something more acceptable for one who doesn’t want to go into cardiac arrest. Nick’s gaze flickers between Moira’s calming visage and her hand placed over his heart.

“Don’t be afraid. I mean no harm to you. I just want to help you find who is using my trademark. Then I can take care of them and you will never see me again. If you wish to never see me again.” Nick hardly recognizes the woman before him. This afternoon in his office she was so confident, so uncaring. But this lady in front of him is so incredibly tender; Nick finds it hard to match them as the same person.

“Moira…how…?,” but he never finishes that sentence. In a sixteenth of a second she places a finger over his soft lips.

“I forgot to tell you. When we are not alone you cannot call me by that name, especially when vampires are near. When we are conversing in public you must call me Majes. No vampire can know my true name, my past would resurface in a blink of your eye if you ever spoke my name with someone else around. You can’t even imagine the destruction that would rain down if someone heard you speak my name. So please, don’t forget, call me Majes.” Eyes wide and persuasive, Moira speaks with a certain desperation. Nick nods, unable to deny her when she speaks to him like that. He could see the fear in her eyes. Moira floats back down into her chair after a long moment of looking into Nicks crystal blue eyes. Thank you, she whispers without opening her mouth.

Taking control of himself, Nick straightens up. “I need a drink. Please tell me the bar-keep sells more than B-positive and O-negative.” Nick forces a smile. Moira shakes her head and giggles, dark ringlets of hair falling in front of her eyes.

“I can help you with that.” Moira snaps her fingers and a beer sliding down the bar at O’Malley’s Pub two towns over disappears, reappearing in front of Nick. The bottle still has water droplets sliding down the side. Moira smiles at him, gesturing for him to drink some.

“I hope you paid for this,” he jokes. With a groan Moira snaps her fingers again and the exact $2.84 clinks into the cash register at O’Malley’s. “Well, I was hoping for something more like Tequila, but a beer will do. Now, since you will be working on this with me,” he smiles as her expression perks up. She hadn’t been certain that he would allow her to accompany him. “I need to set some ground rules for you and you can’t object to any of them.”

“Fine,” she agrees but narrows her eyes.

“First of all, you can’t go around killing innocent men while we’re investigating,” Moira scoffs at the word ‘innocent’. “We want to catch your copy-cat and it will be hard, for me, if all I have to go off of is you saying that you were too busy to kill a guy one night. So please, only the bottled animal or donor blood that’s sold at the store,” a truly horrid expression rearranges her face, but she nods. “Second, you have to tell me everything you pick up from each crime scene. I want you to tell me the stuff that my lab guys aren’t able to notice or analyze. And lastly, I want you to let me get the confession of your copy-cat, and then you can do what you please with him. Just let me know for sure that it is your guy, or girl, before you accidentally kill an unrelated vampire. Do you agree?”

“Yes, I agree. Now I would like to go somewhere more private. It’s annoying having to keep up the sound block. We can go to my apartment, it’s very secure. Highly insulated. And now I need to ask of you one favor,” she speaks urgently at first, but slows down looking at Nick curiously.

“Okay, you get one favor,” he smiles playfully at her.

“I want you to stay at my apartment tonight,” she continues quickly when his eyes widen and the blood drains from his face. “I will not harm you. I need you so I can end my little problem. I just need you to sleep near me, so I can pick through your mind and learn all that you already know about my little copy-cat. And besides, isn’t my M.O. to go back to the man’s apartment.” With her last statement she quirks an eyebrow, because she knows that he knows this to be true.

“Sure,” he gusts out. “Why not?”

Smiling (she hasn’t smiled this much in over a thousand years), she adds, “You should feel special. You will be the first person, besides myself, to be in my apartment.”

“Majes,” he says remembering what he is to call her in public, “I always feel special when I’m around you.” His sudden insecurities evaporating.

With that she grabs his hand, the one not holding his beer, and blinks them out of Blood Letter’s.