He was full with blood, bloated on it and sticky with it. Wiping a slick finger down his jacket, he choked back a laugh as he realized he was clad in the red liquid more than he was in cloth. Stepping over victim number three (there had been six in total, but who was counting?) and delicately avoiding the growing pool of blood lapping at her mangled corpse, he exited the building, pushing open the door and stepping outside.
He saw her immediately, a pale spot on a grungy, ancient road that was littered with empty bottles and scented with the thick odor of sweat. Especially amid all this, though Stefan doubted he would have overlooked her even in the ritziest of hotels or streets, she drew the eye towards her, pale and fair and cold all over. She was blonde and dressed in white, giving the impression of fresh snow and innocence, though for the latter, the revealing cut of her clothing clearly removed that notion.
Catching his eye, she smiled, an amused, calculating twitch of the lips that was utterly devoid of warmth. He approached, leaning forward, his own face smeared with drying blood, his grin that of a monster. Still she smiled, her expression not wavering, her demeanor not shifting. He stopped curiously in front of her, pausing slightly, and eyeing her warily.
"Hello," she greeted, her voice surprisingly soft and musical in cadence, almost mellifluous. Without hesitation, she pressed herself towards him, angling her body nearer to his, her eyes still icy and unchanging, even as her lips twisted into a deeper smile.
"Hello," he replied, tilting his head.
She reached out with an elegant hand, her manicured finger sweeping across his face, brushing lightly against his lips. She withdrew her hand and made a small noise of derision in the back of her throat as she examined the blood. Raising her eyes to meet his again she said quietly, amusement still lacing her words, "You are certainly one of the messiest eaters I have seen in a very long time. How are you enjoying vampirism, Ripper?"
Stefan laughed, a short, hard sound full of shock and disbelief. With the quickness granted to his species, he grabbed her wrist, yanking her towards him as his fangs extended and his face rushed with black blood. Her flesh was colder than a human's should be, he observed dispassionately, but warmer in temperature than that of a vampire's.
"Are you going to let me go?" she asked lightly, and he laughed again, this time with sadistic glee, as he felt his vampire side, not quite sated by his kills, rise to the surface and take control.
And then suddenly her flesh was no longer soft and hot, but freezing cold and utterly unyielding, and she was glowing. She was no longer human, no longer prey, no longer even a woman. She was a diamond carved into the shape of a woman, and she was beautiful, dazzling, shining with reflected and refracted light.
With a casual, almost dismissive flick, she swatted him across the road, and Stefan felt his breath escape him as his ribs cracked on impact. With a groan, he tried to rise, already feeling the renewed pain of his body knitting back together, but she was on top of him, straddling him, her diamond body heavy and hard.
"And rude as well," she said, her voice sounding like broken glass. Then she laughed, and she sound was strangely pleasant, tinkling, rather than crunching. She shifted her weight over him, and a rainbow of light assaulted his eyes, a spectrum of colors dancing across his skin. The diamond receded, and then her face was human and female again, her lips laughing, her eyes frosty and cold. "I'm Emma Frost," she said in her normal voice, and Stefan thought the name suited her, and then she was diamond again, and then she was gone.