THE ASSASSIN WORE RED LIPSTICK

chapter 10: THE NIGHT HE CLAIMED ME

We came home to San Fernando and the downstairs mirror had writing in real blood - "VICTOR KANE LIVES" - dripping, fresh, smelling like rust. My blood went cold. My white dress, my long black hair, my innocent face pale like Mama's photo on the wall, my red lipstick smudged from crying, my diamond ring shaking, my small hands holding both my silver gun and black gun so tight.

Lucian's blue eyes turned blackest black. The black that killed 11 men in our red roses garden. The black that found my gun in Chapter 7. The black that watches me wear red lipstick every morning.

He did not call soldiers immediately. He locked the big mansion doors himself, tall body, black military coat flying, black pants, black boots, scar white on his handsome face, breathing heavy, carrying me like I was small breakable assassin wife in white dress.

"Raven, my brave assassin wife, don't look at mirror, look at me, my love," he whispered, his deep General voice low, obsessed, possessive, carrying me upstairs to our bedroom, black sheets, red roses smell from outside window, Mama's photo watching, framed bloody collar with my red lipstick mark from Chapter 6 watching like art.

I was shaking in white dress. White like Mama's waitress dress ten years ago in Kane's Club Angeles where she died. White makes me look like Mama. Red makes me brave. Tonight I wore white because blood on mirror scared me back to being Mama's daughter, not General's assassin wife.

"Lucian, who wrote blood? We killed Victor Kane Senior in Manila, we killed Victor Kane Junior in Angeles yesterday together, we have 12 bodies now in garden, who is Victor Kane who lives?" I whispered, my small voice assassin voice shaking, my innocent face with red lips trembling, my long black hair messy.

Lucian put my guns on table - no more locked drawer since Chapter 7 HE FOUND THE GUN, now guns open because trust - and took my two red lipsticks from my small bag. My cheap old red lipstick that I used for ten years to be brave when I was waitress, and expensive new red lipstick he bought for me after I became Mrs. Voss.

"Raven, my love, my brave wife who wears red lipstick," he whispered, sitting on black sheets beside me, his tall body, his scar, his blue eyes black looking at my innocent face crying. "Kane family is big in Angeles and Manila. Senior had brother, Junior had cousin, many Kanes wear white suit like Papa. They write blood on our mirror to scare you, to make you wear white again, to make you scared like Mama ten years ago."

He painted my lips fresh. Ritual. Every morning he paints, every night he paints, even when blood on mirror. Double red, bravest red, waterproof red that even blood cannot wash. His big thumb smudged slightly - favorite habit since Chapter 1 - making my innocent face with red lips look smudged, claimed.

"But no one scares my wife," he whispered, his voice blackest. "I am General Lucian Voss, I killed 11 men for you, for Mama, for your red lipstick. I claimed you in Chapter 10, remember? Night I claimed you in black sheets, red dress torn, red lipstick smudged on my white collar, you whispered 'I belong to you, General'... Tonight I claim you again, so you remember you belong to me, not to Kanes, not to blood on mirror."

He kissed me hard. Claiming kiss, not soft like rain kiss in Chapter 8 THE KISS IN THE RAIN. This kiss was General kiss, obsessed kiss, possessive kiss. My red lipstick transferred to his white shirt collar again - second bloody collar - but this time no real blood, only my red, brave red, his favorite red.

"Ahh... Lucian..." I whispered softly, my small voice becoming soft wife voice, not assassin voice, white dress falling from shoulder, long black hair on black sheets, innocent face with red lips looking up at him, diamond ring shining even in night.

He claimed me that night fully. Not just body, soul. His blue eyes black looked at my innocent face crying with red lipstick, tears mixing with red, his tall body covering my small body, scar white, whispering possessive words.

"You belong to me, Raven, my brave assassin wife, my waitress with red lipstick, my General's wife, say it, my love, say you belong to me..." he whispered, deep voice, black coat on floor, black pants, black boots off, only him and me and black sheets.

"I belong to you, General, I belong to you, Lucian..." I cried, my red lips on his neck, my white dress torn slightly now like red dress before, diamond ring shining, black sheets with red roses from garden outside smell, Mama's photo watching from wall, framed bloody collar watching.

He whispered my name like prayer, like General who does not pray but prays for assassin wife: "Raven, Raven, my Raven with red lipstick, my love, my love..."

Night long, rain outside started like Chapter 8 THE KISS IN THE RAIN, but this rain hot, not cold, rain on our mansion roof, rain on red roses garden with 12 bodies, rain washing blood on mirror downstairs slowly.

Morning after, I woke up first. Black sheets messy, white dress torn on floor, red silk dress from yesterday revenge still on chair, red lipstick smudged everywhere - on his white shirt collar, on my lips, on black sheets, on his neck, on my white thighs - art, brave art, claimed art.

Lucian was awake, watching me sleep, blue eyes ice cold soft now, not black, scar white, handsome, tall, holding my cheap old red lipstick.

"You woke, my assassin wife who belongs to me," he whispered, painting my red lips again fresh morning ritual, double red, brave red. "Last night I claimed you again, my love, so blood on mirror cannot scare you. One drop blood left downstairs on purpose - I left one drop so you remember Kanes still try, but you are brave because you belong to me and I belong to your revenge and your red lipstick."

I touched my red lips fresh, innocent face with red, long black hair messy, white dress torn, diamond ring.

"Lucian, I belong to you," I whispered, small voice brave now, not scared.

"And I belong to your red, my love," he whispered, kissing my forehead, not lips, forehead kiss after claiming night, respect kiss.

We went downstairs together, I wore his big white shirt now, not white dress, not red dress, his shirt covering small body, long black hair, innocent face with fresh red lipstick, diamond ring, holding his big hand.

Mirror downstairs - BLOOD ON THE MIRROR cleaned by soldiers last night while we were claiming, but one drop left as Lucian said, one drop red like my red lipstick, like reminder.

I took my expensive new red lipstick and wrote under that one drop blood, with my small hand, my ritual, on cracked mirror: "I BELONG TO HIM. HE BELONGS TO MY RED. KANE LIVES BUT RED LIVES MORE."

Lucian smiled, blue eyes black with love, thumb smudging my red lipstick slightly, even after I just wrote.

"Perfect, my brave assassin wife," he whispered. "Now enemy watches blood, but we watch red. Now you are claimed, my love, forever."