by Lisa Olsen
Carys. The name struck a chord with me, but I wasn’t quite sure why. “Were the two of you together long?”
“No, not very, just a few years.” Just a few years. Longer than any of my relationships combined, and it was like nothing to him. “But let’s not spend our time thinking of loves lost. Let us instead turn to the delightful company at present.”
Cool beans. That hadn’t gotten me very far, I was definitely no Mata Hari, but I decided to try again, especially since he looked at me like I was the next thing he wanted to sample. “How did you know she was my Sire, by the way?”
His brows rose a fraction in surprise. “You caught my eye from the moment I saw you. You reminded me of her straight away, but it was the ring that cinched it for me.” Kursik picked up my hand and pressed a kiss to the ring in question, tugging me a little closer.
“You think I look like her? I ah, I don’t really see it.”
“Surely you jest, milaya. The same bright hair, the same eyes… though you are blessed in certain areas she was not.” His fingers caressed the side of my face, down the slope of my neck to brush across the delicate skin at my bodice and my eyes slid shut at the touch despite my best efforts not to be swayed by his pretty words. “But beyond the physical resemblance, you share that same fresh innocence, coupled with raw power, it’s a heady combination.”
Talk about a heady combination, I was already half in a swoon. How had I thought I was in a position to resist giving the man anything he wanted? In that moment I didn’t much care. I didn’t have a boyfriend to be faithful to, why not enjoy Aleksandr’s attentions?
A cry of pain from the hallway broke the mood, and in a flash, the gray suits formed a protective line between us and the hallway that led to the door. The big, hulking guy who’d been with him at the Hart materialized beside us as if from nowhere, a huge pistol in his meaty hand, easily the deadliest looking guy I’d ever seen. A crash and a thud sounded closer and Kursik snapped his fingers. “Booth.”
“On it, boss.” Booth strode forward, shouldering his way past the minions to see what the trouble was.
“What is it, who’s out there?” I asked, nervous despite the fact that he looked cool as a cucumber.
“Be at peace, milaya. No harm will come to you when you’re in my company.” He used the opportunity to pull me closer, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders. “Whoever it is would have to be a fool to try and broach my defenses here,” he murmured.
“Oh God… I think I know who’s that big of a fool…” The color drained from my face as I figured out what was going on. Right on cue, the suits parted like the Red Sea as Bishop strode into view.
“So, you finally decided to make your move.” Bishop’s eyes set to bore a hole right through Aleksandr’s head. Frak… He was about to ruin everything!
“Bishop, what are you doing here?” I tried to get his attention but he ignored me.
“I’ll need to see your papers.”
“You’re making a big mistake…” I tried again, but I could have been talking to a wall for all the good it did me.
“My papers? Are you mad? This is harassment, plain and simple.” Kursik rose to his feet with fluid grace, approaching Bishop without any fear, and to his credit, Bishop didn’t bat an eye when he got right up in his face. “Where is my man, Booth?”
“He’ll be fine. Eventually.” Bishop gave a careless half shrug.
“This is inexcusable, violating the sanctity of my stronghold…”
“I’m sorry, are you questioning my authority to be here?” Bishop’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders seemed to swell even broader. The enmity between them was palpable; I bet the testosterone in the air was off the charts. Kursik was the shorter man and not nearly as built, but I knew he was stronger than he looked. I still didn’t have a good idea which one of them was older and more powerful. I thought the dirty looks might spill over into violence, but then Aleksandr took a step backwards, recovering his smile.
“Of course not. I accept your governance here, I have no quarrel with the Jacari. I merely question the cause for your visit. Have I broken faith with any of the laws?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.” Now his eyes swung to me, taking in the dress and the way I reclined on the couch with what I took to be disapproval. Aleksandr turned to look at me as well, and I almost wished they’d go back to fighting to lay off the scrutiny.
“Ah, I begin to see the reason for your call. Do you lay claim to this woman?”
I held my breath, as Bishop’s eyes met mine, and I knew he wouldn’t do it, even before he opened his mouth to reply, so I cut him off. “Of course not. Bishop is like a brother to me. You’d never be jealous, would you, brother?” I challenged him to contradict me in front of Kursik, and he bristled, but remained silent.
“Yes of course, that stands to reason,” Kursik nodded, as if it explained the intrusion perfectly.
“Do you lay claim to her?” Bishop asked, finding his voice.
“What if I did? You’ve no authority to prevent it,” Aleksandr sneered, his posture challenging again. I stepped in before the night ended in bloodshed.
And not in a good way.
“Excuse me, no one’s doing any claiming tonight if I have anything to say about it,” I interrupted crossly, tired of being talked about like a piece of luggage. “You’ll have to excuse Bishop, his people skills leave a little to be desired. You can see why I’ve been avoiding him for the past three hundred years or so.” I rose to my feet, desperate to get Bishop out of there before he said something to spoil all the progress I’d made so far. “You’ll excuse me won’t you, while I have a private word with my brother?” Without waiting for a response, I strode to the terrace door and stepped outside. I needed some fresh air.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed as soon as he’d closed the doors.
“Stop calling me your brother,” Bishop scowled immediately.
“What should I call you then? Pain in my behind? Are you following me now?”
“I was there when you got the invitation, remember? Sorry if it ruins your evening, but I’ve the right to check his license to have you, and I mean to.”
“License to have me? What are you talking about?” More vampire laws?
“If he’s acknowledging you as his progeny he need a license, just like anyone else, I don’t care who his Sire was.”
“His progeny…” Was that what he was so riled up about? He thought Kursik was my Sire? “Bishop, you have it all wrong…”
“It doesn’t look like you’ve got the best judgment right now. I can’t believe you’re taking his side like this. I thought you were smarter than that.”
“You’re the one leaping to conclusions. Idiotic conclusions I might add. If you’ll let me explain…”
“No, you listen to me for once. Try and get it through your head that you’re in danger here. Whether he’s your Sire or not, you don’t want a man like Kursik laying claim to you.”
“Since when do you care?” I tossed back at him angrily. What was this? I don’t want you but nobody else can have you either?
“I don’t. But this guy is dangerous.”
“So you keep telling me. I can handle myself, remember?”
“You are going to get yourself killed.” His eyes blazed with anger and I wasn’t sure who it was directed at.
“I’m already dead, right?” I quipped, trying to lighten the mood but all it did was make him somber.
“Final death is never something to joke about.” Bishop reached up to brush a strand of hair from my forehead, fingers clutching into a tight fist after the touch, as though he’d been burned. “But do as you like.” He turned to leave.
“Bishop, wait…” I caught hold of his arm, leaning close to his ear to whisper. “Kursik told me who my Sire is. We were way off, it’s a woman.” That got his attention, and he turned around, skepticism written all over his face. “No really, he said he knew her well. Her name is
Carys, is that your Sire too?”
“What kind of lies is he trying to surround you with now?”
“Listen, it makes sense. Didn’t you say you recognized my bracelet as belonging to her? Well, she gave it to him. He said I remind him of her so I’m assuming that’s why she picked me. So that means we are related in a roundabout way.” I didn’t want to dwell on that overmuch since the way I felt towards him wasn’t at all sisterly, no matter what I’d told Kursik.
“That’s not possible.” Bishop looked like it was the last thing he wanted to listen to at the moment, and I couldn’t understand what he was so upset about.
“Why not? There’s no law that says it was a man who turned me, right?”
“No there isn’t, but it wasn’t Carys, I can guarantee you that.”
I started to clue into what was bothering him. Maybe his Sire was in town and hadn’t stopped in to say hello to him? That would put my nose out of joint too. “How do you know it wasn’t her? Just because she didn’t talk to you about it first…”
“It’s not possible, because Carys is dead.” His voice low and broken, whatever argument I’d been building up to fell out of my head at seeing his face.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t know,” I tried to approach him but he pulled away.
“So whatever romantic fantasies he’s spinning for you, get that notion out of your head. I told you, he thinks you’re hundreds of years old, any information he has is flawed. But do what you want.”
“Bishop wait…” I called after him, but he’d already vaulted over the side of the balcony. “Bishop!” Reflexively, I ran to the edge and looked over, but there was no sign of him in the mist of fog below. At my cry, the terrace doors opened, and Aleksandr stepped out, flanked by two of the gray suits.
“Is something wrong?”
Staring out into the murky night, I shook my head. Here I was, no closer to finding out who my Sire was or why I’d been chosen. All I knew was that Bishop’s Sire was dead and I sort of looked like her. Is that why he’d turned away from me? Or was that the only reason he’d looked at me in the first place? Suddenly I didn’t feel so much like enjoying cocktails and more with an intense guy like Aleksandr. I was tired of trying so hard to pretend to be something I wasn’t.
“Actually, I should probably go. Bishop reminded me of some responsibilities I need to see to. You understand…”
Kursik’s expression couldn’t be called understanding even by a stretch. For a long moment I thought he might object to my leaving, but instead he offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course.”
Relieved, I hustled past him into the room. “I’m so sorry for the way he burst in here. If any of your people are hurt…”
“It was nothing, no harm done.” I could see it wasn’t nothing to him, the blow to his ego was more severe than any physical harm to his staff, but it seemed certain he didn’t want to dwell on it. “May I see you again?”
I wasn’t sure how to reply to that. There was definitely something that needed working out between Bishop and me, despite his claims otherwise, and while I did find Aleksandr attractive, I couldn’t say there was anything real between us. Still, I wasn’t sure how to say no without offending him, so I nodded and smiled.
“Anja…” he called me back when I would have kept going straight for the door. “I could not help but notice the tension between you and your… brother. I would hate to be the source of any discord between you.”
“Bishop doesn’t need you to pick a fight with me, he comes up with trouble on his own.”
“Then he did not instruct you not to consort with me?”
That was a loaded question. On the one hand, it would give me a plausible excuse to call things off with Aleksandr, but on the other, I couldn’t help but feel like it would create more problems for Bishop if I said so. “I don’t let Bishop decide who I spend time with, he’s not the boss of me,” I said finally, and he laughed as though that was the funniest thing he’d heard all day.
“Delightful to the end,” he chuckled, leaning close to kiss my cheek. “Soon then?”
“Soon.”
Chapter Nineteen
Bishop wasn’t going to think about what Anja was doing in Kursik’s penthouse. As long as he kept busy, he could focus on something else. At least that’s what he aimed for. As he checked the audio on the gear for the third time in a row with no success, he had to admit he was a little distracted.
She had a point, he had no right to tell her who she could and couldn’t see. If Kursik wasn’t her Sire, then he had absolutely no reason to interfere with her business. So why couldn’t he seem to leave her alone?
“Head’s up.” Mason didn’t bother to wait for a reaction, lobbing a soda can at Bishop’s head.
Bishop reached up and deftly snatched it out of the air without looking. “Hey, did you get me those reports on the Stenger case I asked for?”
“You bet. I scanned it before I sent it to you. It’s pretty much like you thought. He was tenderized a little then bled out, probably into the mouth of someone we know. It’s kind of a sloppy cover up really, usually they make a half hearted attempt to disguise the neck wound. But it isn’t raising any flags in the department. Why the interest on this one?”
Focusing on the electronics on the work bench, Bishop decided it would be easier to dodge the question than explain something he didn’t fully understand himself. “It’s… complicated.”
“Yeah, I’ve been hearing a lot of that lately,” Mason muttered, taking a seat on the opposite side of the workbench and grabbing the gear out of his hands. Bishop resisted the urge to pull it back. He knew Mason was much better at that stuff than he was, but now his fingers were decidedly empty.
“Did you talk to Cage about the surveillance op I mentioned before?”
“Yeah, about that…” Mason looked up and Bishop cut him off before he had a chance to ask.
“Can he do it or not?”
“Babysit your girlfriend while she sleeps?”
“She’s not my girlfriend, and I have a valid reason for watching over her,” Bishop scowled.
“You have gone way off the reservation on this one, buddy.” Mason shook his head, setting the gear aside, fixed in a fraction of the time it had taken Bishop to monkey with it.
“What are you talking about?”
“You are completely obsessing over this girl. The Order isn’t supposed to be used for your own personal agenda.”
“I’m not…”
“Is it ‘cause she’s banging this Kursik guy?”
“Okay, first off… don’t ever say that again in my presence, and second, I think I’ve proven over the years that I’m enough of a professional to keep my feelings separate from my job.”
“That’s just it, bro. You don’t know how to keep them separate because you haven’t dealt with any feelings for as long as I’ve known you. All you are is the job.”
It was true of course. It was simpler that way, far easier to heal a physical wound than a tear in his heart. Bishop had carefully distanced himself from anything that might penetrate that armor. At the time he’d made the choice it had seemed like his salvation, the only way to endure what he’d lost, but now… “What do you want me to say?” he shrugged. It was the way it had to be.
“Tell me what’s really going on with you. I thought we were tight.”
“We are…”
“So if you can’t talk to me, who can you talk to?”
Bishop let out a long breath. “Fine, but not here. Come on.” Maybe it was paranoid, but he knew anything said could be picked up by any number of sources in the building, and he’d rather not have his disgrace broadcast throughout the organization. To his credit, Mason didn’t bat an eyelash when he led him out of the building, falling into step beside him as he headed for the park.
“Strolling in the park by moonlight… you’re not gonna tell me you’ve got a crush on me now, are you?” Mason gave him a sappy grin.
> “I can’t help it, it’s the dimples,” Bishop shot back. It felt good to smile and let off a little steam, and he started to relax the further away they got from HQ. He was taking a big risk in telling Mason, but he was right. If he couldn’t tell his best friend, who could he tell? “So, as you may have guessed, I have been a little… distracted lately. Ever since Anja came to town.”
“Hold the little,” Mason nodded.
“What I didn’t tell you, is that she didn’t just come to town. She’s lived here all along.”
“I don’t get it. So why are you just now starting to go all stalker over her? Because Kursik came to town and is trying to horn in on your territory?”
“No, I mean yes, it bothers me that Kursik is…” Bishop made himself stop before he got things all twisted around. “Let me start at the beginning. I met Anja a few days ago.”
“But I thought you guys went way back?”
“That would be the part where I lied to you,” Bishop fixed him with a grim smile, anticipating an outburst, but Mason took it in stride.
“Sneaky. I bought it hook line and sinker. Go on.”
“I met her a few days ago because she was just turned a few days ago.”
Mason halted in his tracks. “Wait, wait, wait… how is that possible? I saw her put Serena down at the Hart the other night. That was no noob move.”
“It gets better. Her Sire completely bailed. She woke up in the morgue with no idea what happened to her, or who turned her.”
“That seems… unlikely,” Mason frowned pensively.
“It’s unusual yes. Wait… are you saying you think she’s lying about not knowing who turned her?”
“No, I’m saying that’s a very powerful bond you’re stepping into the middle of. If it was a choice of loyalty to you and loyalty to her Sire to keep her secret, who do you think she would choose?”
Bishop hadn’t thought of that before. Was Anja playing him? Mentally he replayed the way she looked at him, so full of trust. The refreshing naïveté about the vampire community, the way her face had crumpled when he’d told her she didn’t mean a thing to him, the little catch in her voice when she started to cry… There was no way those innocent blue eyes were just an act. “You’ve met her, do you think she’s capable of that kind of a deception?”
