Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down (25 page)

Anja’s moan against his mouth was like music, and he withdrew and plunged deeper, eager to hear it again.  And again and again... they moved together, their bodies remembering the unique rhythm that was theirs alone.  The exquisite dance that carried so much more than the slide of flesh against flesh, the friction building with his every thrust and the roll of her hips.  It was theirs for the taking, perfect bliss, and they joyfully chased after it together, parting lips to shout in delight, as well as moan in rapture, as they grew closer to sweet oblivion.

He felt the tremble in her limbs almost before she did, so attuned to her body that he anticipated the waves of her release a half second before it struck.  That’s when his fangs pierced her throat, his own cries of passion muffled against her flesh as her pure essence flooded his senses.  Anja’s head fell back as the orgasm ripped through her, unable to do more than hold on as she rode it out.  And then her head came forward to bite him in return, the pull of her mouth at his throat setting his veins on fire, as Bishop emptied himself into her with a roar.  Their husky cries of fulfillment reverberated through them, feeding each other as they shared the sacrament of their love. 

Even when the last spasm had passed, he was reluctant to let her go.  His tongue rasped at her shoulder, lapping lazily at the twin pinpricks of blood as he uttered soft words of love in his native tongue, pledging his heart to hers.  Words she wouldn’t recognize, but Bishop felt deep in his soul.  Words that bound them together for always.  Maybe she wasn’t ready to take the next step with him, but Bishop claimed Anja in his heart, waiting for the day when she would claim him too.

Anja shifted slightly, and he thrust into her again, his body seeking that last surge of dying pleasure, and she made a sound of deep satisfaction in the back of her throat.  “Mmm, I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of this bed for the rest of the night,” she cautioned, and he chuckled, withdrawing carefully and pulling her into his embrace.

“I have no problem with that.”  It was late anyway, and he could think of worse things than for her to sleep over at his place. 

“Good, because I’m pretty sure my legs don’t work anymore,” she sighed, snuggling up to him. 

His chest swelled with male pride.  “Then I guess I did something right.”

“So many things,” she yawned, her head falling against his chest.  “Oh, sorry I didn’t get a chance to invite you into the house.  We’re definitely past date six now.”

“Way past it,” he agreed.  “But that’s okay, I got what I wanted.”

“I’d say we both did.”  She yawned again, the sound little more than a squeak, and he laughed softly.

“I meant getting to sleep with you in my arms.”

“Mmm,” she said, and he wasn’t sure if she was agreeing or fading too quickly to hear what he’d said.  But when she spoke again, she sounded lucid, if tired.  “Bishop?”

“Yes?”

“About what you said before.” 

“When?”

“In Italian.”

“Oh.  That was... nothing to worry about, just something I said in the moment.”

“Then you didn’t mean what you said?”  She sounded disappointed. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then you
did
mean it?”

Bishop couldn’t see her face, but suddenly he started to wonder.  “Anja, do you know what I said?”

She was silent for long seconds, and he started to think she’d drifted off before she spoke.  “I got bored with studying German and switched to Italian about a month ago.  I didn’t catch every single word, but I kind of got the gist of it.” 

He went very still, unsure what she thought about it from the inflexion of her voice.  “I wasn’t trying to trap you into anything.  I know you want to take things nice and slow, and that’s fine by me.  So please don’t read anything more into it than...”

“Bishop?” she cut him off, stifling another yawn.  “I like that you said those things.”

“You do?”

Anja snuggled deeper into his embrace.  “I do.” 

“I do too.”  He held her until she went still as death in his arms.  Only then did he get up and shut the automatic shutters, casting the apartment into total darkness.  It was still an hour or more before his regular bedtime, and the price for spending the night with Anja meant he had to cram in some time for his job. 

As soon as he booted up the laptop, Bishop knew he’d put off work for too long.  There in the corner, was the flashing logo for calls missed.  Important calls, from Rome.  Running his hand through his hair, he pulled on a shirt, and put the call through on Skype. 

“Hello, Prudence.  What’s up?”

“What’s up?” She didn’t look too pleased by his casual greeting.  “I could say the same, I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With what?  I thought things were stable in your area.”

“They are, mostly because I keep busy.”  It wasn’t a lie exactly, he just hadn’t done a whole lot of work that particular night.  “Is there something I can do for you?  I sent you my report per the meeting last night.”

“Yes, and I received it.  I’m more concerned with what you didn’t report.”

Bishop waited for her to get to the point, not in the mood to play guessing games. 

“What’s this I hear about a poisoning attempt at the Elder’s ball?”

“That’s exactly what it was.  Someone poisoned the fresh blood served at the party, and we’ve been working to uncover who’s responsible.”

She arched a single brow.  “And you thought this was a good use of the Order’s resources?”

Bishop didn’t appreciate the tone, or the implied accusation that it
wasn’t
a good use of them.  “Someone possibly tried to take out three Elders in my territory.  Yes, I think it is a perfect use of our resources.  Why?”

“No need to get your back up, Bishop.” 

“Isn’t there?  Or am I wrong about your questioning the way I run my district?”  He’d been around the block long enough to recognize that she was working her way up to something. 

Prudence was silent for long seconds, her lips pressed primly together before she spoke.  “There has been talk.”

“By who?”

“There has been talk,” she repeated without answering the question.  “That you are less concerned with your duties since you rekindled your affair with the Elder of the West.”

“Give me a single example,” Bishop challenged, and she held up her hand.

“I make no accusations, I simply find this surprising, given your stance on Vetis under Corley’s rule.  Weren’t you the one to champion the division between the Order and the House?”

“And I stand by that belief.  We work together when the situation calls for it, but I am not an extension of Anja’s rule, by any means.” 

“I certainly hope not.  We can’t be too careful when dealing with rumors at this level.” 

“Is that all you have, rumors?  Or do you have any solid evidence against me?”

“This isn’t a disciplinary hearing, Bishop.  There are no charges laid against you.  I merely wanted to hear your thoughts on the matter.”

Like hell.
  “And are you satisfied?”

“For the present time.  I hope you are aware that the eyes of the Order are upon you in your position.  You set the example for your subordinates.” 

As if he could ever forget it.  “Oh, I’m all kinds of aware.  I used to do your job, remember?”

“Vividly,” she replied with a tight lipped smile.  “I also remember that you left it to be closer to Ms. Evans.  There are some who see that as a sign of weakness.”

Bishop’s shoulders swelled to fill the screen, his temper pricked.  “I’ll meet anyone who dares to call me weak, any time you care to set.” 

“There’s no need for that.” She sought to soothe him, but all it did was piss him off.  He didn’t like being handled.  “Let me leave you with this one word of caution.  The Order is a jealous mistress and her vows are not easily set aside.” 

“Noted,” he said with a brusque nod.  “And let me leave you with this.  The next time you question my duties, you’d better have a damn good reason to back it up.”  Hitting the red button to disconnect the call wasn’t as satisfying as slamming the door on her, or even a receiver, but it was all he had. 

Gone was the warm glow of shared intimacy with Anja, replaced by anger and frustration for a job he used to love.  Still loved, most of the time, but all the political garbage... life was too short for that bullshit.  As Bishop slogged through his inbox, reviewing reports and putting out fires, he took some measure of satisfaction at assigning order to the chaos – but was it what he really wanted to be doing with his life?  One glance at the pale slip of a girl lying in his bed left him full of doubts. 

F
or three days I didn’t leave Bishop’s apartment.  The one time I called in to work, I was politely told to take a couple of days off by Maggie, who also showed up later that evening with a duffel full of extra clothes and a few toiletries.  I knew Bishop left when I was asleep sometimes, because things would show up that hadn’t been there the night before.  Like the oceans of flowers I woke to the first night, or the freezer full of ice cream that we sampled at our leisure (I definitely recommend the wild cherry, especially when eaten in a soapy bubble bath for two).  I could also tell he’d been out to feed, because he wasn’t the least bit weak from sharing his blood with me, both in and out of the bedroom.  Not that I strictly needed to feed every night, but how could I say no when it inevitably turned into such a pleasurable experience for the both of us?

It was a magical mini stay-cation, but we both knew it couldn’t last.  Reality waited outside his door, and it came in the form of Carter, who banged on it with a vengeance when we didn’t jump to answer his polite knock.

“Hold your horses!” Bishop barked, pulling on a pair of jeans as he went to open the door.  “Oh, it’s you,” I heard him mutter, and I slipped out of bed, peeking to see Carter’s head over the top of his shoulder.  Snatching up a blanket, I wrapped it around me and went out to see what he wanted. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had her long enough?” Carter was saying.  “She does have other things to do than you.”

Bishop’s face twisted into a scowl.  “I’m not keeping her hostage.”

“Nope, I’m here of my own free will,” I smiled, looping my arm through his. 

Instead of his answering smile, Bishop’s scowl only deepened when he saw me.  “Anja, would you put some clothes on for chrissakes?”

“Why?  It’s only Carter.”

“So?”

“What do you mean it’s only Carter?” Carter retorted, his disapproval for my lack of attire written all over his face. 

What was the big deal?  “So you’re like my best friend.  Who cares if you see me in a blanket?”

“I’m still a man, and you shouldn’t go parading around like that.”

Bishop shot me a vindicated look, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.  “You’re the one who came banging our door down, I figured it was important.”

“It is, but it’ll wait for you to change.” 

“Oh, for Pete’s sake...”  They were both acting like it was the nineteen hundreds.  “You guys, I’m more covered than I would be at the beach.  Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“Felix is going apeshit, I think you’d better get to the mansion before he busts a nut.”

“Why?  What happened?”

“You mean besides the way you kicked Bakareh out of the country?”

“I didn’t...”  Okay, so I guess I had kicked him out.  But only because he was such a pain, and clearly wasn’t enjoying his visit anyway.  “He’s pretty mad, huh?”

“I’ll say,” Carter snorted.  “Anyway, I promised to come and pry you out of your love nest and bring you back to face the music.”

“What kind of music?”

“I’m guessing some kind of funeral dirge from the look on the council’s faces.”

“The council’s there too?” 
Frak
.  “Give me ten minutes to pull myself together.” 

“Take twenty and wash off the scent of Dumbo’s cologne, would you?”

Bishop’s brows drew together into a single dark line.  “Hey, watch your mouth,” he threatened, but Carter wasn’t cowed.

“Or what?”

“Keep it up and find out.”

“Maybe you should come and take that shower with me, Bishop,” I suggested, pulling him away from an argument that couldn’t possibly have any winners in my book. 

“No way, I said take twenty, not an hour,” Carter objected immediately.  “I’m not sitting around while you two play hide the soap.” 

That suited Bishop fine.  “Who asked you to wait?  I’ll make sure Anja gets back okay.”

“When I accept a task, I finish it.  I said I’d bring her back, I’m bringing her back.”

“Guys,” I intervened, pushing my way between them.  “Could you maybe dial down the hostility?  I haven’t even had my morning cup of cocoa yet.”

Bishop took a deep breath, the anger fading as he turned to me.  “Why don’t you go hop in the shower and I’ll make it for you?”

“Can I trust the two of you to get along while I’m gone?”

“Probably not, but I promise not to kill him.”  It was hard to tell if Bishop was joking or not, but I supposed that was the best I could hope for. 

“Carter, are you going to be okay here?”

“Oh yeah, I’m good,” he replied, plopping down in an arm chair and kicking his heels up on the coffee table.  “Just don’t take too long.  The meter’s running.”

I gave Bishop’s hand an extra squeeze before I darted into the bathroom, taking the quickest shower on record.  Worried I’d walk into a full blown fight, I barely ran a comb through my wet hair before I returned, but the two men sat in a relatively benign silence.  Carter hadn’t budged from the arm chair, and Bishop stood at the opposite end of the apartment, monkeying around with one of his guns.  A cup of steaming hot chocolate waited on the counter.

“There she is,” Carter grinned, slapping his hands on his legs before he launched himself to his feet.  “Oh, by the way, I have some news about the server who poisoned the glasses at the party.”

“Why didn’t you say so when you first got here?”

“I guess I was distracted by the sight of you in the blanket,” he smirked.  “Anyway, it’s a dead end.”