Angels & Demons: the dance

Thwack. Thwack. Officer Williams' cane rhythmically thumped against the pavement. His hand smoothed down the jacket, high waisted and cinched with a belt, as was fitting of the time. A Homburg was perched upon his head. Though he felt ridiculous, his costume was authentic 20s.

Officer Williams paused at the top stair, lifting the silver head of his cane to knock against the door. The door flew open before he had the opportunity. Elizabeth Fine stood in the doorway, smoke wafting from the cigarette holder in her hand. His gaze was like a lover's caress as it ran the length of her body. Legs, miles long, exposed by the short hem of her flapper dress. Pearls dangled between her breasts, hanging to her waist. Blond hair slicked back into a chic bob. She was the perfect vision of 20s flapper girl.

Her arm snaked around his as they strolled down the street. Halloween was the perfect excuse to dress up and pretend to be something else. Not that Liz was any stranger to walking around in disguise...

As they made their way down the city streets, the air around them hummed with anticipation. There was something about the officer, something unusual, that Liz couldn't quite put her finger on. Their eyes scanned the crowd - eyes of the hunter and those of the protector.

What a pair they made, she mused. Outwardly, in their ridiculous costumes, they were a perfect match. But angels and demons don't belong together. Eventually, this man - like so many others before him - would find out her secrets. The only question was whether the good officer would survive his discovery.

Liz wrapped her arm tighter around Williams, feeling his muscular build and strong arms. She couldn't wait for this party to end and get him back home. Their time together might be brief, but she was determined to enjoy every minute.

They reached the Plaza's ballroom, filled with the city's rich and powerful. Though she had a cop on her arm, Liz's studied eye carefully sought out her next mark. She took in men in their fedoras and oxford bags, women in cloche hats and low waisted dresses. The 1920s. She rolled her eyes in boredom. Not her favorite decade.

Dancing was a mild amusement, watching the others stumble over the steps. Liz conquered all the dances flawlessly. Her officer led her around the dance floor. The Charleston. Foxtrot. Shag.

She quickly tired of the dancing and, of course, found other sources of entertainment. Her clutch was stuffed to the brim with the fruit of those activities. Gems of all shapes and sizes. Solid gold pocket watches. Her favorite prize was a necklace with a large diamond hanging off a platinum chain. Liz's fingers were still singed from the attempted theft of another piece, even larger, but set in silver. Cheap bitch she hissed, quickly slipping her hands into short gloves to cover the burned flesh as it healed.

Finally the music slowed to a waltz and Williams pulled her close. She nuzzled against his neck, breathing him in. His scent swirled around her, rich and heady. Still, there was something different about the cop. Something not quite...human...which made her head boom with blood lust.

Their dance led them to a dark corner of the room. In the shadows, her lips pressed against his neck. He inhaled sharply at the feel of her canines raking across his flesh.

"Darling," he whispered, eyes burning hard and black. "I know exactly what you are. And, whatever your game is, I want in."

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A very belated Magpie Tale... And another piece of the Angels & Demons story. Yeah, I know I said the last one was the "conclusion" but you guys asked for it to keep going.... Be careful what you ask for...