Kiss of Death (8 page)

I'm already pretty pale, especially by L.A. standards,
so I go with Ivory Bisque for the foundation. But for Mercedes, whose Latin-American blood gives her a beautiful olive tone, the shop assistant recommended Light Beige Blush. We also bought one container of “ash” powder, an almost translucent powder that will set the makeup and our respective foundations, only making the overall effect slightly paler. The piece de resistance was two wigs. Mercedes went for an Uma Thurman in
Pulp Fiction
look, and I decided on a long black do with no bangs. I reckon it was worth the sales assistant's forty minutes, because the bill totaled $655 and we gave her a $40 cash tip for her efforts. Goth clothes are expensive and I don't know yet if the FBI will let us write them off. Truth be told, it's a big investment, but I need to find out more about the vampire community. The more I know, the better informed my profile will be.

By the time Mercedes and I get back to my Westwood apartment it's 8:30 p.m. and I can't imagine Darren's exactly happy with me. I called from VampIt to scrap our dinner plans but I had a hard time convincing Darren that this little outing was important and couldn't wait.

I slide my key in the door and creep in sheepishly, Mercedes in tow. The television's on and Darren's sitting on the couch with a beer in hand. On the kitchen counter are several takeout containers.

“I'm really sorry about dinner,” I say, straight off the bat.

Darren stands up. “Hey, Soph.” He comes over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. Not exactly our usual first kiss, but then again Mercedes is standing right next to me.

“Hi, Mercedes. Nice to see you again.”

Mercedes smiles. “Hi, Darren.”

“I saved you guys some Chinese. I presume you haven't eaten?” It's only half a question, because Darren knows what I'm like when I'm on a case—I often forget to eat.

“Thanks.”

“I'd love some,” Mercedes says. “We got time?”

“Sure. A quick bite.” I know it'll take us a while to get dressed and put on the makeup, but we do need to eat.

Darren and Mercedes lean on the living room side of the kitchen counter while I get out two bowls and place a few spoonfuls of rice in each one. “Beef in black bean sauce or shrimp and vegetables?”

“I'll take the beef, thanks.”

I spoon most of what's left of the beef into Mercedes' bowl and fill mine up with the prawns.

Darren grabs his beer from the coffee table and sits at the small dining table. At least he's sitting down with us.

“You want some more?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I'm done.”

As soon as we're seated, Darren takes a deep breath. “You really have to go tonight?”

“Yes.” I stick to my guns. “There are only four Goth nights a week around town—Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights. And it can't wait until Thursday.”

He hesitates, but doesn't stop himself. “Can't wait, or
won't
wait?”

Mercedes, head down, is pretending not to notice the start of a potential fight.

I give Darren a forced smile. “Let's talk about it later.” I glance at Mercedes and he gives a reluctant nod. He knows it's out of line to start
that
conversation when we're not alone.

“So tell me about the club.” His tone is much lighter.

“Don't know much about it yet. It's a nightclub near downtown that has two Goth nights and one lesbian night. Guess we'll know more in a couple of hours.”

Darren nods. “And I see you've got a shopping bag there.” He gives a little raise of the eyebrows. “Can't
wait to see the outfits.” The Darren I like…maybe love…returns.

Once we've finished eating, we start the transformation in my bedroom, leaving Darren to channel-surf in the living room.

“Looks like you're in trouble,” Mercedes whispers.

“It's not exactly the best start to our few days together, but it can't be helped.”

“Are you sure about that? Why don't we just wait until Thursday?”

“Darren will cope. Besides, I need to get on top of this angle ASAP. I get the feeling the lead detective isn't too sure about her decision to call in the Bureau.”

“And you want to prove yourself?” She frowns.

“Not prove myself…I just want to be thorough.”

Mercedes rolls her eyes. “You're always thorough.”

“My job's important to me.” I sound defensive, but I can't help it.

“I know.” Mercedes puts her hand on mine. “But you need a life outside of the job. And Darren…he's a good guy.”

I sigh. “You're right. I need to get better at the whole balance thing.” Generally speaking, if I'm not working I'm exercising, and vice versa. And my kung fu takes up a big chunk of time each week too, especially now that I'm working toward my second dan black belt. “This will only take us a few hours and Darren will be fine.” I don't know if I'm convincing Mercedes or myself.

Mercedes takes the leather pants I bought out of the VampIt bag. “Most men would forgive anything if they saw their girl in this outfit.” She gives me a big smile and passes the pants to me.

“Good.” I lay my clothes out on the bed and Mercedes does the same. Looking at the clothes makes me feel like a teenager dressing up for a nightclub or a high school dance. “We need music.”

“I don't have anything Goth in my music collection. You?” Mercedes is in her underwear and we both stand at my full-length mirror about to start our makeup.

“I used to listen to Madonna when I was getting ready in my teens.”

She shrugs. “I'm up for Madonna. But I don't think it would help us get into character.”

I laugh. “Let's see how we go without any mood music then.”

We both start with regular moisturizer before applying the base, smoothing it over our faces and necks.

I check out Mercedes. “That looks nice.” She's definitely a few shades paler than normal, but doesn't look like she's putting on a clown face, either. I take my dressing gown off and mix the foundation with regular moisturizer to tone it down. My arms and décolletage are already pale and won't need much work, but I want to blend the effect across my upper body, given I'll be wearing a corset. Once I've smoothed the blend over my arms and chest, I use the ash powder to dust my face, arms and chest. It creates an even, velvetlike finish and, just like the girl said, it only lightens the tone of the base by one or two shades.

I pass the powder to Mercedes. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thanks.” Mercedes looks at her reflection. “Man, how do you stand being this pale all the time?”

I give her a light push. “Don't get me started. I'd trade skin tones any day.” Mercedes' skin is beautifully smooth and olive. No need for fake tan, or solariums or even a body bronzer.

She smiles. “Pity you're not really a Goth.”

When I'm done, my face, décolletage and arms are Nicole Kidman pale. Mercedes, on the other hand, looks more like my natural skin tone but it's still enough to give
a Goth pallor, especially once we add dark eye shadow and lipstick.

We move onto our eyes next. Again, we follow the shop assistant's suggestions of using liquid eyeliner underneath and on top of our eyes. I hardly ever wear much makeup, so I borrow Mercedes' and need her help drawing the thin lines and then smudging them slightly.

Mercedes takes a step back and looks at her handiwork. “You should go for dark gray eye shadow. And I'll use dark brown.”

“Okay.”

She passes me an open compact. “Try this one.” She points to a coal-gray. “That's almost
black
.”

She puts a hand on her hip. “We
are
going Goth.”

“Sorry, you're right.”

While Mercedes puts on her eyeliner, I start on the eye shadow, smoothing the rich color onto my eyelid.

A couple of minutes later, Mercedes' eyes are highlighted with dark brown, and mine with gray. The look is striking.

“Good job.” Mercedes looks at our reflections in the mirror. “Okay, lipstick.”

We each bought dark red lipsticks, but Mercedes' has a little more plum in it. Again, the redness will accentuate my white skin and blue eyes, and the plum-red will contrast against Mercedes' skin tone and deliciously dark eyes.

With our lipstick on, we both take a few steps back from the mirror.

“I think we're done with the makeup.”

I look at my watch. “Let's get dressed and head over.” I grab the leather pants and wiggle into them. The size up was too big, too loose, but I can barely squeeze myself into the U.S. size four.

“They look really hot, Soph.”

I laugh. “Thanks. If they didn't have the lacing that shows off flesh at the side, I might even wear them out normally.”

“You could just tighten that. Then you wouldn't be flashing anything.” She takes the dress out of the bag and steps into it.

“Tighten?” I run my hands along my hips and raise my eyebrows. “You think these pants should be
tighter?
”

Mercedes laughs. “They're not that bad. Besides, you've got the figure for it.” She turns her back to me so I can zip her dress.

With the dress done up, she looks in the mirror and gives herself a wink. “Smoking.” Mercedes does a half turn and looks at her back in the dress. “My ass doesn't even look big in this. Gotta love an A-line.” She pulls on the knee-high boots, with laces all the way down the front and a zip on the inside.

“You are smoking.” I smile.

“It's very different to my normal look, that's for sure.” She blows out a forceful sigh. “Thank goodness John won't see me in this get-up.”

“I can take photos now and you can tease him with them.”

“Pass.”

Photos… “Actually, when I'm finished I might get you to take a pic. If I look different enough to Sophie Anderson I can use it for a fake profile for Facebook and MySpace.”

I slip my arms into the slight sleeve of the corset and position it on my boobs, before reaching around to zip it up.

Mercedes motions with her finger for me to spin around and I let her force the zipper up. It would actually be a real struggle to do it myself, especially with fake corset laces running on either side of the zipper.

“My guess is Darren will be waiting up for you tonight and all will be forgiven.” She laughs.

“Ha, ha.” I pause, still looking in the mirror. “I hope you're right.” I bite my lip. “Time for our wigs.”

“Ah—” Mercedes grabs the two wigs out of the shopping bag “—how could we forget?” She passes me the longer wig.

It takes a little positioning, but eventually I get it sitting correctly. Mercedes could have foregone the wig, but we both agreed she should look different enough that people wouldn't easily recognize her, if at all. I, on the other hand, didn't have an option. Blond hair in a Goth nightclub—I don't think so.

Once my boots are on, I check out the full effect in the mirror. I definitely look chic Goth—mission accomplished. And I look nothing like me, nothing like Special Agent Sophie Anderson.

“It'd be fun to walk into the office like this…see if anyone recognized us.” Mercedes has a glint in her eye.

“We'd never live it down.” I look at myself in the mirror one more time. “Not much room for a gun.” In fact, there's nowhere to conceal my gun so I decide to take a handbag big enough for my Smith & Wesson 9 mm.

“Ready?” Mercedes asks.

“Yup. Time to get our first reaction.” I sling my handbag over my shoulder and lead the way.

Darren turns around as soon as he hears the door opening and his jaw drops. “Holy cow.”

I smile. “Pretty intense, huh?”

“You look…great.” He stands up. “Hot, of course, and very, very Goth.” He looks past me to Mercedes. “You, too, Mercedes.”

“Thanks.” Mercedes looks at Darren then me. “I'll pull the car around. See you out front?”

“Sure.”

“Don't be too long.” She gives me a wink

As soon as Mercedes is out the door, Darren pulls me in for a kiss and his hands quickly travel down my waist and to my butt. Maybe he
will
forgive me.

“That's some ass.”

I smile. “Genetics and squats…a magic combination.”

He laughs and gives me another kiss. Eventually the kiss ends and he says, “Sure I can't come tonight?”

I take a step back and give Darren a look up and down. “Can't imagine you in the clothes, to be honest.” Darren is what I would call clean-cut American. Jeans and a T-shirt or a leather jacket is pretty much the extent of his wardrobe.

“Maybe you're right. Looks good on you, though.” He pulls me in again, but I push him away.

I smile. “No way am I risking another kiss. Not when Mercedes is waiting.” I swivel on the ball of my foot and let him watch the rear-end show. “Don't wait up for me, honey.”

“I am
so
waiting up.”

 

On the way over I let Mercedes drive, while I do some online research on my BlackBerry. Today I pretty much guessed from the context what Cheryl meant by “house” and “donor,” but I'm sure the vamp community has a whole slew of its own slang. And given we're supposed to be part of that group, it'll look pretty silly if we can't speak the lingo.

“I've got something,” I say as Mercedes merges on the I-5, southbound. “Shoot.”

Not surprisingly I got loads of hits when I searched on “vampire terminology” and after scanning the first few results, I opt for the fourth entry, which seems to be the most comprehensive.

“Okay, let's start with the A's.
Auto-vampirism,
when you drink your own blood.”

“Eew.”

“Yeah.”

“
Awakening
…it says here that vampires are usually awakened around puberty. That's when they start craving blood, feeling sensitive to light and moving to a nocturnal lifestyle.”