P.D. Martin - Kiss of Death

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.

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