by Lisa Olsen
“What was that?”
“I’m toast, you know, done for?”
“No, what you said about Rob. What did he say to you? Exactly.” Bishop set his drink down on the table, sitting next to me on the couch, but with a cushion of space between us.
“He said… that I should feed soon or something like that. I can’t remember exactly. What is he, by the way? I can tell he’s not a regular human.”
“You can tell that?” Bishop’s brow puckered.
“Then I’m right? He’s not normal, is he?”
“That’s not my story to tell. But watch what you say around him, his loyalties are his own.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I nodded all the same. “I’ll try to remember that. I think he’s sweet on my roommate,” I smiled, remembering their banter the night before.
“Lucky her,” he frowned, and I wondered if that meant he was jealous? He had taken note of her… attributes, when he’d first met her. “Look, I took care of your immediate need, I think you’d better be on your way. I have work to do.”
“See, but that’s the problem. You can’t slap a Band-Aid on it and hope that’ll take care of it. I have no idea how to survive as a vampire. Can you give me a rulebook or a manual on how to hunt or something? Vampire 101? Even the slayer got a handbook, not that Giles even gave it to her…”
“Try the net.”
“I did, but it’s full of crap.” I scowled when I saw on his face that he hadn’t been serious, his lips twisted into a smirk like it was all a big joke. “Don’t you dare laugh at me! I didn’t ask for any of this. I can’t help it if I have no idea how to eat without maiming someone. I almost killed Bridget last night, did you know that? You probably don’t even care. You probably think it’s no big deal, but it’s important to me. For once in my life I can’t turn to books or my parents to help me out of a problem. I can’t do this all by myself. If you knew anything about me, you’d know how hard it is for me to be here asking for your help, because trust me, you’ve made it more than clear that you don’t want anything more to do with me.” I turned away, not wanting him to see me cry again as the storm of emotions washed over me. He probably thought I cried at the drop of a hat.
“Anja…”
“No, I don’t want to hear again how this isn’t your problem. I get it. I don’t even know why I came here.” Swiping at my wet cheeks, I looked around for my shoes, not having a clue where they were. What kind of a person tucked a girl into his bed, took off her shoes to make sure she was more comfortable, gave her his own blood to drink and then kicked her to the curb? I looked under the couch, by the door, in his bedroom…
“Anja, just stop for a minute.”
“No, you want me out, I’m out. Where the hell are my shoes!” I was losing it.
Bishop blocked my path, shoes in hand. “Looking for these?”
“Thank you,” I murmured, snatching them from his hands. “I hate being like this,” I sniffed.
“Your emotions are heightened, it’s a side effect of turning. It’ll even out after a while.”
“Great, so what - twenty, thirty years and I’ll stop acting like a basketcase? Cool beans.” Thanks to my improved balance, I didn’t have to lean on anything to get my shoes on. “I’ll be going now. I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” I managed to get out with as much dignity as possible.
“If I promise to help you will you leave me alone?”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly and I’m sure it showed on my stunned face. “I beg your pardon?”
“But this is it, after tonight I’m done, deal?”
Whatever lunacy took hold of him, I intended to ride the swing of the pendulum as far as it’d take me. “No, I get it, you didn’t sign up to have a vampire step-child, I promise, I’ll leave you alone after tonight. Deal.” I held my hand out to him. He looked at it for a moment and then shook it, his fingers wrapping around mine.
“Alright, lesson one…”
I didn’t know if it was going to be a long lecture or a list of tips, and I happened to glance at the clock on the wall. “Oh God, is that the time?” I gasped. I’d slept through all of my classes and hadn’t given it a single thought. There was only one thing that could possibly lure me away from the offer of help by a hot vampire; my music. “I have to get to rehearsal.”
“I thought you wanted my help.”
“I did, I do! But if I don’t show up I’m going to lose my spot on the madrigal. I’ll come back tonight after rehearsal, it’ll only take a couple of hours. That way you can get your work done and then you can help me. It’s a win/win scenario, right?” I gave him what I hoped was a winsome smile, because if he didn’t go for it, I was going to have to miss practice, just when I’d started to catch Professor Matthews’ eye.
“Alright, fine.”
“Oh, thank you so much!” I couldn’t help it, I threw my arms around his neck in an impulsive hug. From the depths of despair to giddy happiness in sixty seconds flat. He wasn’t kidding about heightened emotions. “I’ll see you later, Bishop, thanks!” Letting go of him, I got out of there before he could change his mind, catching sight of his bemused expression seconds before the door slid shut. I couldn’t tell if he was more bewildered by my behavior or his.
* * *
As excited as I was to get to the campus on time, choir rehearsal dragged once I got there. Without the orchestra practicing with us, we met in the smaller choir room. Instead of being caught up in the music that time, I could only spot the flaws in the performance. Every missed beat, every note that fell flat drew a wince from me. My body still amped with energy from Bishop’s blood, the last thing I wanted to do was stand in one place for an hour and a half.
Maybe I was eager to get back to Bishop and his lessons, or maybe I was worried he might pull another one-eighty on me and shut the door in my face, but I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I found myself inching closer to the door as Professor Matthews gave us his closing remarks, slipping out the first instant he released us.
“Hey.”
Bishop stood beside the door, leaning casually against the building. He’d cleaned up a bit since I left him. The scruff was gone from his cheeks, his goatee neatly trimmed. He wore his usual dark jeans and motorcycle jacket, the form fitting gray t-shirt stretched across his chest.
“Hey,” I stepped away from the door and out of the path of students filing out. “Did we have a change in plans?”
“I decided to take care of some things later. You’re still up for going out tonight, right?”
“Of course, I can’t wait!” It was hard not to sound desperate, but I wanted it in the worst way. I couldn’t help but feel drawn to Bishop. Maybe it was part of what we’d shared earlier that night, but I was at least as eager to spend time with him as I was to learn how to hunt. I fell into step beside him with a huge smile on my face. I was horrible at playing hard to get.
“Your accompanist is terrible.”
“He’s at the top of his class,” I protested on Alan’s behalf.
“Then his class sucks.”
“Hey, not everyone can be a vampire prodigy. I bet he’d sound amazing too if he was hundreds of years old.” I nudged him with my elbow, enjoying the light topic. It was nice to see he had a sense of humor after all.
“Alright, alright, point taken,” he grinned. “You were the best one in there though.”
You could have knocked me over with a feather at the compliment, no matter how outrageous it was. “You could pick me out of the whole choir, huh? That’s pretty good.”
“Actually, I could. You’re better than that, Anja, they’re dragging you down,” he shook his head, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
“To be fair it is a kind of a depressing song, it’s not all that surprising we were dragging tonight.” The German piece Lass dich nur nichts nicht dauren wasn’t one of my favorites, it put me in mind of a funeral dirge.
“Depressing? How do you mean?”
<
br /> “It’s so slow and then all the Amens, who can get excited about singing a bunch of Amens?”
“It’s a song about faith and hope. It’s the exact opposite of depressing,” he protested, to my surprise.
“We must be talking about a different song.”
“Lass dich nur nichts nicht dauren. Let nothing ever grieve thee, what’s depressing about that?” He acted as if his was the only right opinion in the world. “Be true in all endeavor and ever ply bravely; what God decrees brings joy and peace.”
“Boy, you really do know the song,” I blinked, impressed, and he gave a careless half shrug.
“I’ve heard it sung a time or two.”
“Big Brahms fan, huh?” Another shrug was all I got. There seemed to be a limit on the questions he would answer about himself, so I changed the subject, eager to keep the conversation going. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about school. I can’t keep missing classes like today. How long did it take you to be able to stay up during the day without lapsing into a coma?”
“I didn’t even try for the first hundred and fifty years.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No, it was a different time. People didn’t keep the same hours we do now unless you were a servant. Especially for someone in my line of work, it was expected that I’d keep late hours. I just stayed up later than most.”
“What line of work was that?”
Bishop stepped off the curb, directly in front of a black and green motorcycle that looked more expensive than my mom’s car. “Get on,” he ordered, straddling the sleek instrument of death. It bears mentioning that I’d never ridden on a motorcycle before.
I let out a long breath. “You don’t like to talk too much about yourself, do you?”
“You want my help, right?”
“You know I do.”
“Then hop on before I change my mind.”
I scrambled on behind him, conscious of the fact that I flashed a lot of leg as my skirt inched higher in the process. Bishop noticed it too, I caught him looking at my legs.
“Is that what you’re going to wear?”
“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” True, it was a little risqué for me, but I hadn’t felt out of place in the bar.
“Nothing. It’s just… I thought you would have stopped at home to change before your rehearsal.”
“I didn’t want to be late. I do want to take a shower, wash the smell of smoke from my hair, would that be alright?”
“We’re going to a bar, it’ll get smoky again.”
“So?” I was prepared to give up the argument for fear of his changing his mind again, but he capitulated.
“Fine, just don’t take too long. Hold on tight.”
Chapter Fifteen
I hadn’t been to many bars in that point of my life, and that one didn’t particularly make me want to start. Not that there was anything wrong with the place, it wasn’t a sleazy dive, it just wasn’t my thing. I would much rather be holed up in a little café, drinking cocoa and eating too many coconut macaroons.
The bar patrons were mostly young and attractive. No bikers, it was more of an upscale place. That bothered me a little. I would almost rather he picked a tougher crowd, then I might not have felt so bad knowing I’d be attacking one of them very soon.
Nobody gave us a second glance as we took seats at the end of the bar. Bishop’s eyes scanned the place and I followed his lead, seeing what there was to offer. It was early still and there were only a dozen or so people sprinkled throughout the room.
“How do we start?” I asked, sliding off my jacket. I knew he wouldn’t remove his, he was armed as usual.
“Let’s start slow, order a drink.”
“But I don’t want a drink,” I protested, figuring it’d be best if I stayed sharp and focused.
“Yes, you do, it’ll help relax you. Besides, you need to practice compulsion before you need it in a hurry or there’s blood involved.” I could see the wisdom in that, but had no clue how to go about doing it. Before I could open my mouth to ask, Bishop seemed to clue in to my distress and leaned closer to me, his voice low and reassuring at my ear. “Focus on what you want. Catch his eyes and project it, it’s as simple as that. Don’t overthink it.”
“Right,” was all I had time for, before the bartender came to stand before us. “Hi,” I smiled brightly, leaning forward, my eyes on his. “Please bring us a couple of beers.”
“I’ll have to see your ID, miss,” he asked politely.
“Oh right, of course,” I nodded, reaching for my pocket, but Bishop laid his hand on my arm with a shake of the head. I was supposed to be compelling him, not doing what he asked. What was I doing wrong? Maybe I wasn’t focusing on the right thing? I really didn’t want a beer to be honest. Deciding to change tacks, I tried something else. Leaving aside the question of drinks, I focused on getting him to look at me. “You don’t need to see my ID, I’m alright to be here.” This time I could feel my will catch a hold of him.
“You’re alright to be here,” he repeated, his face blank.
“You’ll give me whatever I want.” A smile curved my lips at that.
“I’ll give you whatever you want.” An answering smile lit the bartender’s face and he leaned a little closer, perhaps keying into my pleasure at having successfully tried it. “What do you want?”
I grinned from ear to ear, turning to Bishop for approval. “I have Jedi mind powers!” I giggled triumphantly.
Bishop shook his head, but there was a smile on his lips when he looked up. “You’d better tell him what you want, don’t lose him now.”
“We’ll have a couple of beers,” I smiled sweetly.
“Coming right up,” the bartender grinned, happy to be of use, I expect. He quickly filled our drink orders, hovering like a puppy, eager to do something else for me.
“Thanks.” I dismissed him with a wave and he retreated farther down the bar, continuing to look over at me every now and again in case I might want something else.
“Be careful, he’ll end up following you home if you keep him on the hook like that,” Bishop sighed, taking a sip of his drink.
“What do you mean, on the hook?”
“Be careful what you ask for when you’re compelling them, they will absolutely have to obey you, or what they think you want whether you said it out loud or not.”
“I didn’t think of it like that,” I blinked, darting another look at the bartender who gave me a hopeful smile until I looked away. “I did pretty good though, right?”
“Don’t get cocky, kid. It’s easier to bum a drink than it is to erase someone’s memory of having been brutally attacked.”
“Well, since I don’t plan on brutally attacking anyone, I guess I won’t have to worry about that,” I said loftily, cradling my unwanted beer like it was the finest trophy in the world. Bishop chuckled and I got the distinct impression he thought he knew better than that. “So… what’s the next lesson?”
“Next, you need to scout your target. There are many variables to consider.”
“You mean take into account if someone will notice if they slip away and come back with a bite on the neck? Or if they look drugged out or something?” I took the opportunity to look at the bar denizens, trying not to think of it as picking over items in a buffet.
“Yes, exactly. You can pick up a contact high if they’re on hard drugs, or so drunk they can’t walk straight. You should also consider if they’re alone or with a group of friends that can describe you to the authorities if things get out of hand. You’ll be focusing on compelling the person you’re feeding from, not everyone else in the bar. In time you’ll come to decide if you prefer a crowded club, or even a chance encounter with someone on the street.”
“Do you talk to them first? Find out if they’ve got a family waiting at home?” That felt like a pretty important distinction to me if I was likely to have control issues to start with.
“Why would I
do that?” he asked, brows drawing together in puzzlement.
“Because you wouldn’t want to accidentally kill someone with a wife or kids, right?”
“What difference would that make? Accidents happen every day, people adapt,” Bishop shrugged, completely unconcerned with my point.
“But this isn’t an accident. This is me choosing in a premeditated way, deciding who I might potentially kill if I can’t control myself. Doesn’t it bother you to think that you might accidentally kill someone that people depend on?”
Bishop laughed, his head falling back like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, only sobering once he saw my expression. “Oh, you’re serious. Anja, that’s part of our nature. We’re killers, it’s what we’re built for. Chances are, if someone gets tangled up in my path they’re not a blameless victim given the places I spend time in. Besides, it’s been a long time since I killed anyone accidentally while feeding.”
“But you kill them as part of your Order?” I started to understand that human life meant very little to most vampires. Would it be that way for me too in time?
“Do you want to do this or not?” he muttered irritably, taking a swig of his beer.
“Fine, who would you pick then?” I asked, though it was obvious by watching Bishop that he’d already made his selection. His attention seemed wholly focused on a woman sitting in a booth by herself. Pretty, if a little older, she nursed a white wine.
“Watch and learn.” Bishop slid off the barstool before pausing to lean in close to my ear. “After I leave with her, give us a couple of minutes and then come to join us in the alley to the side of the bar.” Without waiting for a response, he moved on and I had to admire his natural grace as he slid into the seat opposite her, his charming smile smoothing over any objections she might have. But then again… who would object to Bishop joining them in a bar? What I wouldn’t have given to have him smile at me like that.
I watched them together, easily able to hear the thread of their conversation, the woman’s laughter trilling back to me. Oh yeah… she was a goner. In a few minutes he rose and stretched out his hand, not even having to use his influence to get her to leave the bar with him. Waiting on my stool, I downed the rest of my beer to steady my nerves before following them outside, slipping around the corner of the building.
