Trust Me When the Sun Goes Down (28 page)

We stood out on the balcony, the rolling hills below exactly like I’d pictured them from his letters.  The air was warm and dry, enough to stir my hair but not blow it in my face.  Bishop tucked a sprig of jasmine behind my ear and wrapped an arm around my waist. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he sighed with pure pleasure.  It was probably the most relaxed I’d ever seen him. 

“It’s breathtaking.  I’m sorry it took so long for us to get here.”

He tipped my face up to his.  “Some things are worth waiting for.”  His kiss was slow and unhurried, doing his best to make up for the time we’d lost.  I lost myself in him, drugged by the gentle but sure hands that knew me so well.  Nothing else mattered, only that we were together, and I’d found something I’d been missing for the longest time. 

“Maybe we should go inside?” I whispered, and his lips curved into a glorious smile. 

“I have a better idea.”  Before I could ask what might possibly be better, he picked me up and carried me down to the river, laying me back against the fragrant grass.  The delicate blades tickled the backs of my legs, but it wasn’t unpleasant, not one bit.  The sounds of the water were soothing and full of life. 

I thought he might kiss me then, but for long moments Bishop stared down at me, fingertips tracing the contours of my face.  His hair fell over one brow, in need of a trim, and I reached up to push it back.  He turned his face into my hand, pressing a soft kiss to the palm, and then rolled onto his back, pulling me to rest against the crook of his arm.

“When I was a boy, I used to lay here and look up at the stars,” he said softly, one arm reaching up to point.  “I used to wish upon that star right there.”

“What did you wish for?”

“I’d wish for a band of gypsies to kidnap me.”

“You wanted to be kidnapped?”  I hid a smile against his shoulder.  “By gypsies?”

“It would’ve been better than playing on command for my step-father,” he scowled.  “I’d dream of running away, playing for the crowned heads of Europe.” 

“What about your sister?”

“That was before she was born.  My dreams were simpler back then.”  Bishop picked up my hand and kissed it.  “I’d work my way into my real father’s notice and then he’d take me away from it all.  I’d inherit his estate and marry a beautiful princess.” 

“Oh, is that all?”  I didn’t bother to hide the smile now, and he returned it. 

“I said simpler, not realistic.” 

“What would you wish for now?”

“Can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you,” he chuckled and I poked him in the ribs.

“Isn’t that supposed to be can’t tell me or it won’t come true?”  My head rose and fell as he shrugged.

“Sorry, old habits die hard.” 

“Do you miss it?  The Order, I mean.”

“Do you miss being Elder?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted.  “But at the moment I want nothing more than to lie here beside you under the stars.”  I pressed a kiss to his chest and then rolled back to look up at them.  “Actually, there’s one more thing that I want.”

“I didn’t bring any chocolate with me.”

“Then I’ll have to work with what you brought,” I grinned, grabbing hold of his shirt, rolling him toward me for a kiss.  He came eagerly, covering me with his body as he did his best to satisfy my craving for something sweet, until he pulled back to look down at me, his green eyes glinting in the moonlight. 

“I love you, Anja.  Never doubt that.”

“I never have.”  I smiled up at him, lips parting in invitation, and he tasted them again, fingers moving lazily to unbutton my blouse.  A shiver danced over my skin that had nothing to do with the light breeze and everything to do with the trail of kisses he blazed over every inch of exposed flesh.  His teeth nipped and scraped, soothing the sting with his tongue before moving on to repeat, again and again, working lower, flashing me a wicked grin whenever I cried out.   

And suddenly he loomed over me and there was nothing between us but a kiss of air.  He took me in a long, slow stroke, and as I wound myself around him, I knew in my heart I’d never be alone again. 

The sound of a car alarm pierced the peaceful countryside, jarring me from the dream.  I rolled over, cursing my sharp hearing when the one alarm turned into a string of them going off.  One of the fun parts of living in Chicago. 

Burying my head under the covers again, I chased after that patch of grass, but it slipped away, taking Bishop with it.  It was a strange dream, and I found I was reluctant to give up that sense of peace and security – not to mention the hotness.  Stranger still because I had no idea where it’d come from.  I hadn’t talked to Bishop in weeks, I wasn’t even sure where he was.  Usually my dreams ran toward a different vampire, one with magic hands and a rough accent.  Just like that, my good mood soured. 

The October sky was still a pinkish gold, the last stages of the dying sun before it was swallowed by the velvety night.  I rolled over in bed, trying to get back to sleep, but there were no more dreams. In disgust, I got up and put on my comfy fleece pants and a long billowy cardigan, even though the weather hadn’t turned cold yet. 

Carter was still passed out in his room and I knew from experience that nothing I did in the loft apartment would rouse him.  I made myself a mug of hot chocolate and opened the blinds to let in the rapidly dying twilight, looking out at the rooftops below.  The sense of melancholy I’d been battling was better on some nights than others.  This wasn’t one of the good nights. 

Even though I
knew
it wouldn’t help, I put Nina Simone on repeat –
You Don’t Know What Love Is
– her sultry voice wrapping around me as I went back up to my bedroom.  From my shiny new laptop, I sent a brief email off to Maggie.  We’d only traded a few in the weeks I’d been gone.  I knew Lee was still in San Francisco and Gunnar still lived at the house with her, but that was about it.  I didn’t ask about Rob and she didn’t volunteer anything. 

I’d been in closer contact with Hanna.  With the cash boost from her winnings at the casino, she’d taken the plunge to work as a consultant instead of finding a permanent job.  So far she loved the freedom it gave her and I was working with Maggie to funnel some projects Hanna’s way through the businesses she owned.  Mason was back in the picture again, but they were taking it slow.  I was just glad to see her rebuilding her life.  So far my efforts in that area were hit and miss. 

All of a sudden the music switched off, Carter’s mumbles audible to me in the sudden stillness.  “Enough with this weepy stuff.  I get it, he doesn’t know what love is.”

I lounged on the bed, wondering what he had to be so grumpycakes about.  Usually Carter woke up bright eyed and raring to go.  The sounds of his queuing up another song floated up to me, followed moments later by the silly
Tacky
.  I waited to see if he’d made a mistake and change it, but he only turned the volume up. 

It was so ridiculous, and not his style of music at all (he was more a fan of The Zombies), I knew he was trying to cheer me up.  It would’ve been sweet if it wasn’t so annoying.  I didn’t want to be cheered up.  All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball, listen to sad music and self medicate with chocolate.  But it was impossible to achieve that state with Weird Al throbbing in my ears. 

I leaned over the half wall of my loft bedroom, looking down to the living room below.  “Hey, I was listening to that,” I complained over the music.

“You already did,” he yelled up at me.  “Time for something less self indulgent and get you out of this funk.”

“I
like
funk.  I’m a very funky person.”

“You want funk?” he laughed.  “Baby, I can do funk.”

Tacky
cut off mid-sentence and a few seconds later
Play That Funky Music White Boy
came on.  I had to smile as Carter spun around, dancing in his bare feet and boxers, the ratty old t-shirt bulging at the arms when he struck a ridiculous pose all for my benefit.

“You are such a dork.”  I shook my head, coming down the stairs to turn the music down before the neighbors pitched a fit. 

“I’m not going to leave you alone,” he insisted as I settled on the couch and pretended to read the latest issue of
Men’s Fitness
while he danced around, straightening up the apartment.  “You know you can’t mope around forever.”

“I’m not moping, I’m trying to read.  This happens to be an excellent article on…” I looked down at the page I’d turned to, “… manscaping.”

“Don’t go getting any ideas, sunshine.  I got your back, but I don’t need you shaving mine.”

I had to laugh at that, he was right.  Carter wasn’t at all self conscious about his body or sharing bathroom space, and from what I’d seen in the time we’d been living together, he didn’t need any help in that area.  “Darn, I was looking forward to a project.  Maybe I should just go back up to bed.”

“How about we go see
Guardians of the Galaxy
again?  It’s at the cheap theater now.”

It was tempting, but more than likely it’d make me cry again, and I wasn’t in the mood to open those floodgates.  “No, I don’t feel like going out.”

“We’ve still got
Sharknado 2
on the DVR.”

“No we don’t, I deleted it to make room for your hockey stuff.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay,” I shrugged.  “SyFy will run it again sometime.”

Carter frowned down at me, studying me close enough to make my scalp itch before he declared, “I know what’ll cheer you up.  Let’s go out.”

“I just said I didn’t feel like going out.”

“No, I mean let’s go
out
.”  His rugged features transformed with a smile of pure joy. He meant hunting. 

“Again?”

“It’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

“I know, but even Batman takes a day off every now and again.” 

“Not when the Joker’s on the rampage, and I’ve lined up a doozy for us.”  He went to his laptop, pulling up the file he’d assembled on the target in question.

We’d already tackled half a dozen baddies in town since we’d arrived and I could honestly say the world was a much better place for it.  Maybe he was right?  Maybe focusing on fighting the good fight was what I needed to pull me out of the less fun kind of funk. 

I took a look at the file, my eyes widening when I saw the kind of stuff he was into.  “Where do you find these guys?” I murmured, paging down.

“What can I say, I’m good at what I do.”

He was at that. 

* * *

We’d gotten pretty good at stalking people.  Or rather, Carter was teaching me how to be a stalker and it wasn’t all that hard for a vampire.  Especially when hunting other vampires, who were pretty clueless about being hunted themselves.  Did you know that the Volkswagen Jetta has 15.5 cubic feet of trunk space?  It made it especially easy to cart a body from the heart of the city to one of the lesser populated districts.

The vamp we were after was one Armand LeFavre, one of the richest men in the city, which also made him easy to find.  It was simpler than you’d think for me to get him away from his entourage.  Just a low cut top and a tremulous smile, and he followed me out the back door of the Crocodile Lounge where Carter waited to shoot him with an arrow of the non-exploding variety.

Armand went down like a sack of potatoes, almost pulling me off balance, but I quickly recovered, dragging him to the mouth of the alley where we’d stashed the car.

“Do you want a hand?” Carter asked as I popped open the trunk.

“I’ve got him, can you get his hat?”

“Sure thing, sunshine,” he grinned, humming a few bars from
Play That Funky Music White Boy
as he retrieved it and climbed into the driver’s seat.  I still hadn’t gotten the chance to drive on any of our hunts.   

In less than twenty minutes, we had Armand chained up in the abandoned garage we’d commandeered for our missions.  Far enough away from prying ears at that time of night, but close enough for Carter to hack into the neighboring roofing company’s wi-fi. 

“You ready?” Carter asked, hand on the shaft of the arrow. 

“Yep, I got this,” I nodded, ready to grab hold of his will the instant Armand came to.  It was incredibly easy, the guy couldn’t have been turned more than ten years ago tops.  Without having to worry about him trying to break free, we could relax and take our time with it. 

“So, Armand.  I hear you’re keeping a pair of girls in your apartment, is that true?” I asked after I had his full attention.

“True,” he replied, his eyes intent on me. 

“When you get home, you’re going to let them go and you won’t bring any other girls home with you again.  Or boys,” I amended quickly.  “When you feed, it’ll only be when absolutely necessary and as humane as possible.  Do you understand?”

“Understand.”

Carter and I had gone around and around on that one.  It wasn’t practical to send city vamps off in search of wildlife to feed on and I was trying to curb their more violent instincts, not starve them to death.  Finally, we’d agreed on a plan of reformation rather than extermination that he was on board with.