Tinted Lip Moisturizer Stain

Tinted Lip Moisturizer Stain

by

J. Peter Nicholas

         

         Catlyn “Cat” Darkheart and her partner and sometimes lover, Dirk Edge stood under a corrugated steel overhang in the warehouse district of St. Paul and waited for their prey as it rained.

         “How good was your information,’ Dirk asked as he brooded with his powerful arms crossed over his chest and he looked at her through the thick strands of his mane like hair that had came free of the leather cord he used to hold it back. Although he appeared relaxed as he leaned against one of the concrete and steel beams that where everywhere in the area, Cat knew he was on edge. She could read it in his shoulders and the way his vampire-werewolf hybrid eyes shifted colors from green to violet to black and back again.

         “They’ll be here,’ Cat replied, sharper than she intended. They had fought again. She knew he was only trying to protect her, but being the offspring of an angel and a demon and trained as a white witch, not to mention the Bushido and jujitsu training, allowed her to take care of herself. Even if Dirk didn’t think so.

         She ran her black nailed fingers, one of the gifts of her father’s heritage, through the thick red curls of her hair and concentrated on controlling her breathing. Finding her focus allowed her of weld her not inconsiderable abilities as a daughter of the heavens, hell and the earth. If that failed there was always the thirty inches of steel she carried on her back in the form of an enchanted katana that had recently been given to her after destroying a colony of gremlins that had infested a aerospace plant owned by a very powerful mover and shaker in the underworld.

         After five deep and controlled breaths she called upon the earth mother to give her wisdom in dealing with Dirk. She knew being the only vampire-werewolf in existence made life, or half unlife as it were, difficult in the best of cases, added to that his newly appointed position as pack master of the Midwest wolves. After Dirk and she had discovered the previous pack master had been smuggling unlicensed gnomes through the Twin Cities, Dirk had challenged and defeated him in combat, his vampire half being an ace in the hole for him.

         Adding to his responsibilities, Dirk had just accepted a position as a professor of contemporary human studies at the University of Minnesota and classes started in less than two weeks. His prep work had included grueling anime marathons and people watching at the mall.

         Cat was also under pressure from her publisher to complete the fifth book in her wildly successful romance series, beyond her work as the go to problem solver for the supernatural world.

         Finding time for the two of them had become a challenge and the stress was beginning to take its toll. It was rare that they shared the same bed anymore and Cat would be hard pressed to explain what they were to each other. A friend. A partner. A shoulder to lean on and sometime sexual release.

         “It’s a necromancer and his pet ghoul,‘ Cat said, ‘shouldn’t be a problem. The word I got said they’ve been working the warehouse district. Maybe even have a haven in it.” She hoped the act of talking would chip away some of the ice that had been forming between them. For all her powers and his incredible abilities they seemed helpless to the undeniable force that pulled the two if them together. Maybe after the corpse fiend and his puppet were taken care of and they collected their payment they could take a vacation somewhere -and have him quit his new job and shirk his duties as pack master, she could postpone her book deadline. Again. Or Maybe not.

         Why did it have to be so difficult?

         “How about we grab some dim sum after we’re finished up her and open a bottle of red back at my place. We could stay up all night watching the three stooges.” Cat hoped she didn’t sound too desperate for his strong arms around her firm, yet supple body and pouted out her lower lip a little. Something she knew he liked.

         Dirk looked at her and watched the waves of heat cascade off her form. His inner wolf gave him the ability to see radiant heat sources. He also could see the flow of blood in her veins. Part of his vampire curse. His body ached for hers. The strength of his desire made him want to howl while tearing the black leather from her body and ravishing the pale flesh underneath but he was also afraid of what the other half of him wanted. The part of him that wanted to sink his fangs into the pulsing vein that ran on the inside of her thigh.

         The fear of losing control was enough re-enforce his will and instead of surrendering to his passions, he pushed the lose hair from his face and ran his hand across the rough stubble on his chin. Taking her hand, he pulled her from under the steel overhang and into the night and the rain that beat against the city like his heart beating against the walls of his chest.

         The two of them held each other there, in the rain and the darkness, and looked into the depths of each others eyes. Taking in the entirety of one another. Seeing each other and through the other -themselves. Witch. Vampire. Angel. Werewolf. Demon. Lovers.

         Then the armor piercing, high explosive, incendiary fifty cal round passed through both their heads creating a great spray of flaming hair, blood and lipstick (both his and her's) across the concrete -looking a lot like someone threw a five gallon pail of tomato soup with mixed vegetables and dumplings. Topped with flaming hair.



         

         “A Two-fer!,’ cried one of the three people atop a warehouse a half mile away proclaimed. The one behind the military grade rifle, the one that had pulled the trigger and was now performing a victory dance he referred to as 'The Embolism', was a ghoul named Henry. Next to him was a pair of queen sized air mattresses propped on their sides by broom sticks and duct tape, the air insulation used to block radiant signatures, and behind the heat shields were the necromancer known as Tim and a young gremlin girl that looked like your typical rebellious teenager except for being green, a foot tall and having tall pointed ears.

         “Are they dead?,’ asked the gremlin girl, ‘Do need to stake them or burn their bodies?”

         “No,’ Tim said

         “No, my sexy little She-hulk,’ replied Henry who attempted to brush back his dance whipped hair in a manly fashion and only succeeded in pulling out a clump which he had trouble flicking off his hand, ‘The golden rule of both the natural and the supernatural,' Tim joined Henry in their mantra, 'Fifty cal kills everything.”

         “Good,’ the girl said, ‘The killers of my tribe have met their end.” Purple tears ran down her face and stained the front of her white button up shirt that could have been made for a doll. Henry and Tim looked across the night sky line, trying to find something interesting to stare at while the girl sobbed. After what felt like an eternity in the hell of 'chick issues' for the pair of witch killers, the young goblin wiped the tears from her face and composed herself.

         “Thank you,’ she continued, ‘Justice has been found for the defenseless men, women and children of my people who only wanted to be free from slavery and instead were exterminated like rats. I only wish that I had died with them.”

         “Don’t say that,’ Henry said, ‘There’s still things to live for… I mean… hey, maybe the two of us could, ya know, get a beer or something.” Henry tried striking an imitative pose of the dead dude whose flaming gelled hair was currently defying the efforts of the rain.

         The gremlin girl looked at his emaciated form, the dirty Celine Deon concert tee-shirt and again got wind of the unwashed smell that followed him everywhere.

         “I think I'm going to be sick” she said and she disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

         The two stared at the space she was in a moment ago and watched as the smoke dispersed.

         “Prude,' Henry said.

         “I get his jacket,’ said Tim as he turned to head down the fire escape to pilfer the dead.

         “How about some Guitar Hero tonight?,’ Henry asked following him.

         “Sounds good. I have an idea. How about we get a pizza -oh, wait. Never mind. Your dead.”

         “Ha! Oh, that’s a good one. It never gets old. Dead. You’re a riot. Hey, what are the chances you want to raise her for some company tonight?”

         “Dude! She has no head.”

         “Your point?”