She sighed, this time a little half heartedly, and noticed his demeanor weaken a little. Her brows furrowed slightly, and the hit of a frown played at her full mouth, but she wasn't about to let anything spoil their evening. So she finished the last of her wine and took two small shot glasses from the drawer in the coffee table and proceeded to pour them both an ample amount. She nudged one over to Luke and swallowed her own, all in swift, almost professional motion.

"So," she coughed, beaming. "Tell me the most interesting case you've ever worked on."

Then she snapped, and her eyes were wide with delight. She poured herself another shot and stopped Luke from drinking his own. Then she pulled a quarter out of her pocket and set it on the table in front of an empty glass. An impish smirk found its way across her face and she seemed absolutely delighted about the idea of a drinking game. What better way to get to know someone new, right?

"Let's play Quarters," she chirped, popping another grape in her mouth. "We each get a turn to bounce a quarter off the table and make it into the glass. If you miss, you have to take a shot. And if the opposite person lands the quarter, you have to share a dirty little secret."

She winked for effect, absolutely pleased with her idea. She looked him in the eye, twirling her scarlet hair in her fingers, and playfully licked her lips. Wind blew from her open windows and carried his musky scent to her nostrils, making her shiver slightly and heightening her yearning to taste him. She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment, attempting to ignore the appetite. A second passed and she looked back up at him, then slid the quarter toward his hand, tentatively brushing her fingers against his.

"Guests first."

Quarters? This little idea of hers sounded like a college game shared amongst friends during week ends. Maybe if he weren't a cop and wasn't constantly busy he would've accepted. When she offered the quarter he reached across the table and gently closed her fingers over the coin, he shook his head, "I think I'll pass."

She frowned- well, there went her opportunity to get into his pants. She figured he'd like the bar game, but she was obviously mistaken. Nevertheless, her evening wasn't spoiled, but her eyes did sparkle at the touch of his warm skin on hers. Her hunger magnified and she again tried to blink it away. She positioned herself on her knees and leaned forward, breathing in his scent as if it were cologne. She licked her lips hungrily as she stares at his throat, listening to his steady pulse intensely.

"You smell so nice," she cooed. "What cologne are you wearing?"

She snapped out of her trance and sat back down. She had to fight it- she didn't want to harm him. In fact, she wanted to see him again, and eating him alive tonight wasn't going to help that.

"Well, then," she continued. "Can you at least tell me about one of your most difficult cases? Have you come into contact with crazies? Seen murders?"

"Uh- well... There is one that I stiff refuse to close despite everyone else at the D.A. and my office wanting to...About a young woman..." He peered at her seriously. Nina Jade. And in thinking of her he almost saw her image within this woman here.

"Is that so?" Syrena asked, sipping at her drink and watching him pointedly. "This girl must be something special if you can't seem to get her out of your head..."

He was looking at her curiously, as though he had seen something interesting inside of her and was trying to fish it out. She suddenly felt naked and turned her face, shying away from the man for the first time since they had met. She then decided that her house had been warmed enough, and since she didn't plan on killing him tonight, she would let him leave. She had other things to attend to before the night was over anyway. So she rose graciously and thanked him with a kiss on his cheek, though her eyes failed to meet his from that point on.

"Thanks for, uh... Welcoming me into the neighborhood," she said coyly. "I feel safer already. I'll um... Let you know about the chimney sweeping. Or whatever. Goodnight, Luke."

She watched his retreating form longingly from the window, making sure she was obscured enough by the shadows that he couldn't see the blood red glow of her irises as she licked her lips. His blood surely would be the drink of heaven, and she was certain if she had just a taste she might totally lose herself. It was a sickening feeling, lusting after a man she knew she wanted but couldn't dare harm him; she was in a war against herself, and she needed to find out how to stop it.

When she was sure he went inside his home, she exited her house and hopped into her car. She drove off toward the city with only one thing in mind- she was hungry -but she couldn't have foreseen what was about to come next. As she reached the city plaza, stopped at a red light she saw, among the group of pedestrians crossing before her, a familiar form. His dark hair had grown a little more, but even for it's length it was actually quite tamed. He walked with the awkward gait of a tall man, and a guitar was strapped to his back.

She swallowed heat in her throat- then the light turned green and she pressed on the pedal, probably a little sooner than she should have, because the next thing she heard as she continued to stare at his retreating figure was an explosion and breaking glass. A white hot pain shot up her entire body, and for a moment she seemed to have lost consciousness, but she came to in time to realize her car was flipping round and round.

Her head spun around and splotches of blood dappled the dashboard, which has been crushed as a result of the windshield shattering. The car stopped somersaulting and she lay still for a moment, just breathing in and out as his face danced around in her mind. His image was the last thing burned what seem like to the back of her eyelids before she slipped away into complete darkness.

Luke wasn't bothered at all, of course she had other things to do, and he knew it wouldn't be polite to insist on staying a little longer so he was quick to get up, slide the chair back beneath the table and smile with a nod at her as she thanked him, "Don't need to thank me, I should be the one thanking you, I enjoyed 'this'," Then he left her home, not before reminding her to knock at his place and remind him of the chimney fixer-upper later in the week, he was gonna work on a design for her and show her later on. That is if she was alright with it. As the night wore on, Luke relaxed into a chair with a steaming cup of hot chocolate in his hands, just as he was attempting at winding down, he nearly leaped to the ceiling when his door was struck by urgent, impatient knocking. Leaving the mug on the coffee table he stood and ran to the door, swinging it open to see Mercer stare up at him annoyed.

"There's been an accident." Erin blurted out, as she glanced back to see police cars whizzing down the tree lined road, its sirens alarmingly loud against the usual silence that was this neighborhood.

"Alright."

Both detectives arrived at the scene just in time to see the wrecked car that had been tumbled over being upright by a tow, the driver was wheeled into the back of the ambulance. He saw the barest flash of crimson hair and his mind back tracked to Syrena. She did mention that she had things to do. Could it be? They were sharing a house warming drink just before she ushered him out. The man sighed hoping it wasn't her, this could mean trouble if she were buzzed behind the wheel.

"You got this here? He asked Mercer as he walked out of the police tape line and reached his parked car.
"Yeah, no big, see you back at the office." Erin waved him off, she was already headed back to the scene and reaching one of the cops as they investigated this situation.

Luke followed the ambulance back to the hospital, parked his car somewhere and walked into the building, he went directly to one of the nurses and questioned them on the person they had just received, but they weren't sure who it was yet, they were more concerned with saving her life, forcing Luke to stick around for a coup-le of hours until the patient was officially out of the E.R.

Pacing around the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, Luke glanced up finally at the sight of a doctor in green garbs, he couldn't tell what was up with that inscrutable look on his face and that made the detective a bit edged.

"Well doc, is the patient alright? Can I see who it is at least?"


OOC-(You be the doctor ok?)

The emergency team rushed the battered girl strapped to her gurney into the nearest vacant trauma room, where they had hooked intravenous wires and heart monitors galore to her little body. They all seemed panicked beneath their stoic expressions and rubber gloves, shouting commands at each other as the monitor beeped shallowly. The little ridges on the screen that represented her heart rate were alarmingly slow, barely exceeding the frequency that was considered safe.

Syrena could briefly see white flashes and blurred faces as her eyelids fluttered open while she teetered between consciousness. As her heartbeat slowed, her eyes closed and her head fell limply to one side, succumbing to a comatose state of shock. She had suffered a massive blow to the head as well as several cuts to her face, fractured ribs, a crushed leg, and a damaged vertebrae.

"Pulse rate is slowing!" shouted a nurse, who was already motioning toward the defibrillator. "Patient seems to be undergoing cardiac arrest."

Surely enough, the thin green line on the monitor stopped creating ridges at all, and a shrill, constant beep sounded in the air like an alarm. The nurses continued yelling at each other, and finally they ripped open her tshirt and zapped her with the shockpads. Her entire body convulsed with the pressure, but her pulse was still nonexistent. Each of their apprehension heightened as the nurse repeated the attempt to shock her heart back to life. Her eyelashes fluttered, but otherwise Syrena did not respond to the electricity.

After several tries, they pronounced the girl dead on the spot, tagged her foot, then wheeled her off into the mortuary. The nurses gathered among each other, curious as to who the sweet new face was.

"Is there anyone to claim her?" asked the doctor. "The authorities could not find any identification within her vehicle or on her person."

The nurses looked pitifully as Syrena's covered corpse disappeared into the corridors. At the same moment, an officer walked up to them, followed by a tear stricken middle aged man wearing dirty jeans and a flannel plaid shirt. He was mumbling incoherently, running his dirty hands over a balding head and wringing his trucker cap.

"We found alcohol in her system, officer," stated the doctor. "It wasn't above the legal limit, but it was still there. She was probably coming down, if not already, from being a little buzzed. Her injuries were too fatal to recover from. She didn't make it."

"We also found alcohol in the man who struck her car with his rig. He came to pay his respects to her family," said the officer, who eyed the frazzled man impassively.

"No one has yet claimed her. We don't believe she has family."

Then the doctor caught sight of Luke, who was pacing around anxiously in the waiting area. The doctor excused himself and approached him, making sure his demeanor was especially neutral, should this man have been close enough to grieve her loss. He cleared his throat before he spoke and clasped his hands together as he had so many times before.

"We did everything we could, sir," said the doctor remorsefully. "Her injuries proved to be too fatal. She didn't make it; I'm very sorry."

He paused a bit before continuing.

"If you wish to see her, she is in room M275 on the fourth floor."

Little did Luke know, as he would surely venture out into the morgue to look for her, he would not find her laying on the iron observing table. Without a trace, the girl had vanished.

"We don't understand, how could she have just vanished like that?" One of the doctors said confused, after Luke was informed on where her body would be and not having found her there, he was beginning to think that he was being lied to, though that was inconceivable. Why would they lie to him a detective for God's sake? He had gone back to find the doctor again and had told him she was missing. At first they had assumed that she was misplaced, but when all the staff searched and she was nowhere in sight they kind of panicked.

"This is unbelievable," Dr. Martin said shaking his head as he got info from the nurse that the patient in question was gone indeed.
Luke glanced up to see the little black dome up on the wall, surveillance cameras. Pointing up at it he suggested they have a look at the tape and figure out who might have stolen her corpse.

In the surveillance camera room, they went through all of the recorded videos ranging from the moment she was first wheeled into the hospital, to the point when it was discovered that she had gone missing.



OOC-(Tell me, what did Luke see? Any give away? Or was she smart and managed to disguise herself in nurse's uniform or something to sneak out? X] Sorry it's a bit on the short side. ))

(You'll see >:D)

Syrena was planted against the wall of the building, staring down at the endless drop that awaited her. Her toes dangled over the windowsill as she both stealthily and shakily crept over to where the laundry room was. Carefully, she lifted the window and slithered inside, landing on her knees with a harsh crackle. She groaned softly before standing upright, digging through the soiled scrubs and finally pulling them over her patient robe. She found a mask and placed that around her mouth, and once she was finished, she crept into the hall.

After two years, she still didn't understand how her body could regenerate from injuries so quickly. All she knew was that when she woke up, she craved blood like a series of painstaking withdrawals. As she moved through the corridors, avoiding eye contact with anyone that might have recognized her, though she was not bothered. Then she saw Dr. Martin and Luke. She swallowed a lump in her throat before approaching them, making sure to disguise her voice with a clear Californian lilt.

"The patient's body has been cremated, sir," she said softly, her eyes wandering over Luke. "There was not enough room in the morgue to keep her for long. She was most likely a common prostitute, which is why it was so difficult to identify her."

"Who authorized that decision, nurse?" the doctor snapped.

"I did, sir. There is a numerous body count, and most of them have family to claim them. According to your protocol, unidentified bodies need to be discarded on the event of an overcrowding."

"I see," the doctor replied, turning back to Luke. "I'm sorry, sir. We did all we could to save her. It's just a pity to die without a name... I don't know about you, but I'm not going to bed without making sure the people I love know just how much they mean to me."

Syrena eyeballed Luke, before excusing herself and slipping away. Once she was outside, she bolted as fast as she could, disappearing into the night.

Luke frowned as he was lead to another dead end. Nothing in the videos could clue him in on the patient's whereabouts. It's as if she had vanished indeed. They all returned to the waiting room and Dr. Martin was babbling stuff the detective didn't really give a crap about, then a nurse approached them with some insight. Cremated? Really? Luke stared right at the woman as she confirmed this with the doctor and the way she presented herself was rather off to the keen detective, hair was a bit messy for a nurse and a familiar reddish, beautiful shade, and her eyes looked so familiar. Make up, did nurses wear make up like that? How should he know but he was sure they didn't that much. Suspicious. And she kept watching him, he caught those haunting eyes watching him, but he never said a word to her. No sooner had she announced this, in the next moment she was gone.

"It's a shame to die without at least someone telling you goodbye." He expressed with a sigh, another life ripped away from a person so young, it saddened him as he turned away from the Doctor, "Yeah, live everyday like it's your last, because you just never know." Then he too left the hospital with mixed emotions. Why had he kept wondering about Syrena? Driving home, he couldn't help but replay the nights events in his mind over and over again. How could she drop into his life so suddenly and then just like that off and disappear leaving him so mixed up? This was crazy, why was he even letting this delve deeper into his head than it needed? Why did he care about some random pretty woman he just met and spent the best evening he'd ever recalled spending with someone in a long time bug him? Why did it rattle him that he couldn't get her face out his memories? Her voice out his thoughts? Syrena, Syrena, even her name was enchanting.

Then it came to him, was it her? Had it been Syrena that had died so suddenly? Pulling into the driveway he nearly stumbled out of the car and glanced back across the street to see her house dark, empty, and her driveway car-less. The connection made his pulse race, what did her car look like when he had helped her out today with her stuff? He wracked his brain trying to remember what her car looked like, what color had it been? What color was the one at the scene? He would have to wait anxiously for Erin's confirmation of the owner tomorrow when the licence plate was recorded and the owner identified. Sighing, he gave up trying to remember, and closed his car door, playing around with his keys he found the one that unlocked his door, and then recalled never having locked it. Entering his empty home, what was once a relief, a realm of peace and joy now felt unbearably empty. Well, he was aware that it had always been empty, but now, he felt it like a piercing stab in his gut. The silence and loneliness weighed upon him like an anvil, he missed being welcomed home by his brother the few times they crossed each other with him entering and the other leaving.

Did he want Syrena to be the next face to welcome him?

He was silly to have pondered this but his mind was running on a free wheel. Why did everything in him suggest that she might be that victim? The one that was cremated without even an identity? He couldn't help but not think of her as he continued into the house anc changed out of his clothes to a shirt and grey sweats. He made it up to his room, walked straight to the window and peered out, as though half expecting to see the woman's car crawl into the drive way, see her crown of crimson locks stick out, see her glance back as though feeling in looking...

His eyes rose up to the dark sky, the full moon shone bright and shining, a beacon of light in the darkness.

"God, I may not know her well, but please let it not be her." His whisper surprised him, how long had it been since he'd actually preyed to God? The last time he felt hopeless, the last time he'd know of his brother before he too was taken. Sighing heavily the man turned from the glass, then crossed to his bed and collapsed into it. But sleep he never did.

She ran and ran until her lungs became two fiery torches inside her chest. When she stopped, she was in a dark alley, its gravel glistening with puddles of urine and spilled beer. She bent over, desperately gasping in cold night air to soothe the burning in her lungs. She had ditched the clothes in some homeless man'a burning bin, now clothed only in her patient robe. She stumbled through the alley, ignoring the pain that began in her gut, signalling her time to feed. Even her tongue had become dry and tingly, her canines budding from her gums, and her eyes squeezing shut.

"Hey, mamacita," came a distinctly Latino voice. Following the voice were hollow footsteps, and finally a husky, brown skinned man covered in tattoos approaching her. "Que pasa, snowflake?"

Syrena straightened herself against the wall, still panting like a thirsty gazelle, her eyes observing him as he came nearer. She could already sense his malicious intentions, almost like a tangible scent or auratic pheromone. Her cherrywood irises became completely scarlet as he close the distance between them, allowing the hunger to take over.

"You need some help, mama?" he hissed, smirking as he took her face in his calloused hand. "Or maybe you can help me..."

An image of Luke flashed into her mind, silencing the scream of hunger that had ignited inside her. She turned her face and squeezed her eyes tight, trying to will her fangs to withdraw. The man pressed himself against her, knocking her skull against the brick wall of the apartment complex. She cried out softly, the succubus within her still trying to fight it's way out of her in the form of cherrywood-scarlet eyes and fangs that retracted and budded as she struggled against him. He cupped her mouth so that she wouldn't scream, and as Luke's smile danced in her mind, he pushed her hard against the wall, when she then fell limp in his arms. He dragged her away into the complex, throwing her down against a thin boxspring mattress on the ground beside a mountain of used needles and condom wrappers.

She awoke just in time to see him fiddling with his pant button. He fell against her, knocking the wind from her lungs, and tried to force himself inside her. She fought him until her anger finally pierced through the memory of righteous Luke. Her canines budded for the last time, and she grabbed the man by the head, ferociously tearing into his throat. There was a violent gurgle escaped through his lips, as he struggled like a suffocating fish in her grasp. She wrapped her legs around his torso and fiercely flipped over so that she was straddling him.

Against the wall, her evil shadow could be seen tearing the man apart, as blood sprayed over the walls and creaking floorboards. When she was finished, she rose and bathed in the bathroom, washing the crimson from her milky flesh. She then retrieved a pair of jeans, a shirt and jacket from his closet, then kicked the gas pipe in the kitchen until it busted. The soft whistle of the gas escaping the broken pipe sounded in the air, and as he walked out the door, she lit a match and dropped it on the ground.

As she walked away toward her home, beaten and ruined but with her hunger sated, the room exploded in a chaos of flames. It took near an hour to reach her house, where she stumbled inside, barefoot and weary. She turned over her shoulder as she hesitated in the threshold, gazing longingly at Luke's quiet house. Then she shut the door, canceling the pale moonlight that tried to come inside.

It was the next morning, Luke got out of bed feeling like crap. Pretty soon he was down stairs in the kitchen, already dressed for work and serving himself coffee before he left in a coffee mug. Soon after he was walking out the front door, pulling the dust bin to the side walk, it was collection day, he glanced straight at Syrena's driveway to see with dread filling his insides that it was empty still. She had never returned home.

"You knew her?" Agent Mercer asked him as she glanced back at him.
"I wouldn't say that I 'knew' her, she was just a neighbor." Luke replied with a sinking feeling in him that made it hard for him to focus on a possible murder scene before them. They were called to another scene, this one much more complex since everything was left to mere ashes, a body had been recovered though, bagged and taken in for autopsy if possible.

"A very good neighbor to have left such an impression on you, I bet you liked her." Only Erin could go there. She wasn't looking at him as she said this, was there something in her tone? Scorn? He was too numb to even try at figuring her out. Woman were hard for him to understand and yet he wanted her to keep talking. Even if she was mad or whatever. Why should it bother her what he thought of Syrena? Unless...? Nah.

"What do you think?" She asked, changing the subject, finding his quiet eerie. He was usually throwing sarcastic jokes here and there and now, that woman must of done something to him! Erin tapped her foot as she inspected the area, but what were they going to find in this cinder hole?

Luke started to walk out of the room, or what was left of it, "We're not finding anything here but remnants of a forgotten past, one that ended with secrets we'll never find. This one's cold, until we get an autopsy or something. What's next?"


"Guess you're right, though this one is a strange one. Who would mug a homeless person, then try to cover up by torching the place?" Erin asked, studying the photographs on her desk, everything was a bit more neater now than it had been the last time he'd entered her office. Both detectives were reviewing the file, maybe something could be found. Anything at least, while they waited for the report on the body.

Luke said rather urgently as the thought came to him, "A crazy nut job, on a killing spree, do you think this has anything to do with that last case that had sprung up two years ago? Maybe it's the same psycho, maybe he's targeting homeless beggars now. We need to find the creep before he strikes again."

He met Erin's gaze, her brows came together as she recalled that cold one and she smirked, "Heh, I doubt this anything to do with that."

"Oh you just never know..."


At the end of the day, Luke was home, more tired than he had ever felt, and yet his mind was racing. After he took a shower and changed into sweats and a plain white T, he started looking through the file he'd taken home, the one with that had been considered a "cold case" since there were never any leads to be followed. The case concerning the missing woman, he opened in out in front of him, inspecting all the gathered files and photographs. No one else at the office knew he had this, not even Mercer, but this one he couldn't let go. If only there was a way to find her killer, that bastard could be walking free now, killing again after taking a two-year hiatus and because the structure of these Laws drastic measures weren't allowed to be taken without an important reason to, a good one. If only he could have kept a grip on Aidan, he wondered where that man was anyways. Luke still had the strongest feeling that some how that man was a piece to this mystery, too bad there was no evidence to tie him to this. Sighing, he focused on the image of Nina Jade, he felt that he couldn't let it rest, not until her death was brought some justice, and at the same time he wondered if he'd be able to bring this back. Would Mercer care to? He highly doubted it.

Reviewing the files once over two years didn't awaken anything within him, nothing new, the thing about this was that it remained frozen, exactly as it had been closed before unless something new was added to it. That was the problem, there was nothing to add, that's what made it a cold case. And yet, he thought to himself, maybe they just quit, and stopped looking. What if he could contact the witnesses? Especially that guy who had sworn the woman had glowing eyes, was she blonde he had mentioned? What was she wearing? How did he "find" her? Maybe it could be... Or maybe not.

As the night wore on, Luke found himself strolling outside the house, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, a pensive look in his features, he sat on the steps of his porch, taking a moment to enjoy the night air, the beautiful sky, and the forever empty house in front of him. Soon it would be put up on the market again, and another new face would greet him. However, it wouldn't be as welcome or warm as Syrena. Never would be.

He bowed his head, whispering a prayer for her, her soul, he wished that it would find its way to Heaven and that God would welcome her, she might even find his brother and they could share an interesting convo. The thought made him smile, he would have to let go of her, but never her memory no. She smiled like an angel, and he didn't know if he would've ever made it with her had she lived. She was a door opening, perhaps to many possibilities, yet since last night, swinging closed. Forever closed.

Then a light suddenly flickered on from the top left window of the bi-level house. It nearly made him jolt,placing down the mug he rushed into his house to grab his pistol off the side table, then he was running out the door. Crossing the deserted, quiet street, he reached the vicnity of the house, he drew his weapon and inched closer. Pressing himself against the wall, he strained to listen for movement from within, thieves...?

A loud thunk resonated, spiking his pulse sky high, he turned to the door and kicked it open, his bare feet pounded into the dark wood flooring as he entered, his eyes scanning the dim room, it was all empty from here. The source was coming from the second level above, he hugged the wall, pistol aimed up, finger on the trigger guard rather than the trigger, he could feel dirt, damp in between his toes as he ascended the steps to the second floor. Gray eyes snapped the the glow of light coming from the room farthest down the hall, listening, he made for it. Toes scrunching over the caked dirt carpet as he walked down the long corridor, he could feel his tension rising, what if it was... her? Had she survived...? Was he hoping to find her here?

Maybe.

Hesitating at the white door, he listened for a sound, after a beat he pushed the door open and aimed his weapon at the presence within. An auburn haired, pale figure stood there, at his sudden entrance, she looked up to meet his gaze. He was beyond speechless, the gun in his hand trembled, that never happened before.

Finally finding his voice he whispered incredulously, "Syrena?" Holy shit!