by Lisa Olsen
“Don’t you want to join in?” he asked, fangs descending with a snick. “You paid for it, after all.”
“No, um… you go right ahead. I’ll just watch.” I’d need to eat something more substantial than what I’d had the night before soon, but I couldn’t even think about joining in with him. Just the idea made me think of piggybacking with Clayton back at Smoke and Mirrors. That whole scene had gone way farther than I’d intended at the time, and I didn’t want the bloodlust to cloud my judgment where Rob was concerned. The last thing I needed was a threesome with Leroy.
Rob didn’t wait another second, plunging into the burly man’s neck with gusto. Unlike the encounter in the alley, there was a distinctly different compulsion going on this time. More sensual than savage, Rob pressed close to Leroy, whose deep grunts of pleasure made it clear he was having a good time. Maybe it was for my benefit, or maybe Rob didn’t want to get kicked out for roughing up the merchandise, but it definitely started to get warmer in the small booth.
I felt the pull to join in as soon as I scented the blood in the air and I closed my eyes against the surprisingly erotic image of Rob pressing into Leroy’s hip, the human’s hands sliding around to pull him closer. The count… I needed to be counting, I reminded myself, starting in my head. Rob’s little growls kept distracting me though, the rough timbre of his voice doing things to me.
Somehow I found myself across the room, my nose pressed against the back of Rob’s shoulder. God, he smelled good. Better than the blood even. A ripple went through him as my lips brushed against his skin, but he didn’t stop feeding. Just one taste – the little voice in the back of my head whispered in the dark corners of my mind. What could it hurt? My fangs had already elongated, sharp and deadly, pricking against my tongue eagerly in anticipation.
My lips parted, breathing in the scent of him like the finest wine. The tiniest amount of pressure and the sharp tang of his blood burst across my tongue, a heady nectar I’d never thought to taste again. I sucked at the tiny wound, a deep moan tearing through Rob at the action, and a shudder went through him that sent a corresponding tremor through my entire body. I sucked again, chasing that feeling, and he let go of Leroy to wrap an arm around me, his hand splayed across my backside.
More than anything I wanted to shove Leroy out of the way and pull Rob into my arms. I wanted to be the one to give him what he needed, what we both needed. I wanted to ruin him for anyone else but me. More than anything else, I wanted it to be like it was before it’d all fallen apart.
But it wasn’t.
We weren’t wrapped in each others arms with nothing but love between us, we were pressed up against another guy in a dirty little room, after paying for the pleasure. What the hell was I doing? Was this what I truly wanted?
I released him, and Rob groaned in disappointment, holding fast to me. “Don’t stop,” he rasped, letting go of Leroy long enough to chase after me with his lips, but I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t what I really needed or deserved.
With a cry I tore myself away, backing up until I hit the door. “I’m sorry!”
His forehead fell to rest against Leroy’s broad chest as he got his breathing under control, but Rob returned to his feast without another protest – the call of the blood stronger than his desire to pull me into it.
I had no idea what the count was anymore, but Leroy seemed fit enough. I could hear his heart pounding from there, and it was still going strong. But remembering that this wasn’t his only client of the night, I decided I’d better keep Rob from taking too much. “That’s enough,” I said, lightly tapping Rob on the shoulder.
To my great relief, he didn’t fight me this time, he merely took one last pull and then released him, healing the wound with his own blood. Rob’s face was tightly controlled when he turned around, giving no sign that anything had passed between us at all, and I decided that was probably the best policy.
“Um, thanks for your service,” I said with an awkward nod to Leroy, who’d sunk to a low chair in the corner of the room to rummage around for a cigarette. “Come on, we’d better get going.”
Rob gave a short nod, straightening his clothes and adjusting himself before we stepped out into the hallway. I could tell he hadn’t found any kind of physical release apart from the thrill of the blood, and that brought back all sorts of images in my mind that had no right to be there anymore.
“How about a drink?” I suggested, thinking we both needed a cooling off period before we stepped out into the semi-deserted hallway, or either one of us might lose that tightly wound control and then there was no telling what might happen.
“Good idea, that,” he agreed, leading the way to the bar.
There was a small crowd of patrons there, jostling against each other to get close enough to order. I was about to tell Rob to forget it, we’d go somewhere else, when the guy in front of me turned around and his deep green eyes widened in recognition.
“Bishop!” I squeaked. Not quite the way I’d envisioned running into him again, and I could tell by the flare of surprise in his eyes that I’d managed to shock him as well. Had it only been a week since I’d last seen him? He looked good. Broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist, the rasp of stubble on his jaw forming a rough goatee. He was dressed simply, in a pair of black jeans and a gray t-shirt under a motorcycle jacket that probably hid at least two weapons – typical Bishop uniform – but was he on duty?
“What are you, um…” I stopped myself from completing the inane question – of course I knew what he was doing there, and the less I knew about it, the better. “I mean, I didn’t know you were in London.”
“I could say the same for you,” he said, looking about as awkward as I felt. “We got into town a couple of nights ago.” His eyes darted to Rob, narrowing slightly. “Rob,” he said tightly.
Rob only offered the briefest of nods in reply. Whatever tension there had been between the two men before had amplified, any ground made up by coming together to fight against Lodinn completely eroded now.
“It’s good to see you,” I smiled, glad to see his expression warm as his gaze returned to me. I didn’t know whether I should give him a hug or kiss his cheek or whatever with Rob standing right there, even though Rob and I weren’t back together by any stretch of the word.
“It’s good to see you too,” Bishop smiled, and some of that nervous energy dissipated under the power of that smile.
“Do introduce me to your friends, Ulrik,” a female voice sounded at my elbow.
I turned, expecting… I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t the sight of the exquisite blonde taking his arm. She was everything I wasn’t –poised and elegant, as if nothing fazed her, perfectly styled from head to toe in a black dress that looked as though it’d been designed for her. Her confident smile and cultured accent spoke of a class and breeding I could never hope to achieve, and I felt like a country bumpkin standing next to her. From the proprietary way she clung to Bishop’s arm, there was only one person it could be – Carys. Sweet zombie Jesus, they’d found her!
Bishop had been struck dumb, his gaze swinging back and forth between us, coming up with a loss as to how to proceed. Somehow this unstuck my own tongue, watching him flail in discomfort and I couldn’t resist a small dig. “I see you bring all your dates here.”
“I’m… she’s not… I-I…” he stammered, scratching at the back of his neck as though he’d suddenly developed the pox.
“I’m Anja and this is Rob,” I jumped in, trying to help him out of the hole he kept digging for himself with no end in sight.
“How lovely to make your acquaintance,” she smiled prettily, offering her hand to Rob, who kissed the back of it like it was the way he greeted everyone.
Had anyone ever compared the two of us? I was nothing like her – she was the very thing I’d tried to emulate when creating the persona of Anja Gudrun, and I was just the dorky poser with delusions of grandeur.
“I’m glad to see they finally found
you,” I offered, though in truth, I was still pretty conflicted over it. “I’m sorry about what Lodinn did to you, but at least you have the peace of knowing he’ll never come after you again. There’s nothing left of him but ashes in my garden now.” I figured she’d want to know that detail. I’d want to know for sure that the guy who’d imprisoned and probably tortured me for centuries was absolutely dead and gone.
“You were there?” Her eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in a calculating fashion as she studied me closer. “I’m sorry… who are you again?” she added with a touch of disdain, and I wished like anything I hadn’t been wearing a pair of faded jeans with a Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock t-shirt.
Bishop recovered his tongue, coming to my aid with a timely introduction. “Actually, Anja was the one who struck Lodinn down, so you owe her your thanks,” he smiled. “Say hello to your sister.”
“My… sister?” Her perfect nose wrinkled in distaste.
“Yes, Jakob is her Sire.”
“Is he really,” she said, sounding none too pleased about it. Well, she’d have to get in line, I wasn’t thrilled about it either.
“Yep, I guess you could call us that,” I smiled, though it dimmed somewhat when she continued to stare at me like I was something she’d scraped off her shoe.
“Anyway, I’m just Carys up on the local sights. So, what are you guys doing here in town?” Bishop asked, picking up on the tension between us, and I shot him a thankful smile for the distraction.
“We’re looking for a way to break the curse before Rob ends up depopulating the south bank,” I replied, and Carys started to choke on her own spit, her face flushing beet red.
“You mustn’t speak of such things!” she wheezed, making no attempt to hide the open scorn in her voice this time.
“Ah, what’s the big deal?” I blinked, unsure of the cause for her conniption fit at first, but as she threw an alarmed glance in Bishop’s direction, it started to make sense. “Oh… he already knows all about the curse. I guess you guys haven’t had a chance to talk about that yet, huh?”
“Not so much,” Bishop admitted.
Carys’ eyes flared wider, small white teeth scraping over her bottom lip as she tried to figure out how he’d come to know such a thing. “You know about the curse?”
“I do,” Bishop admitted equably, though he said nothing about reading her diary, for which I was grateful. I didn’t need another reason for Carys to hate me.
“Oh, what you must think…” she gasped, and I actually started to feel sorry for her until she tucked herself into his chest and started to sniffle. “Can you ever forgive me for keeping it from you?” she asked, her voice throbbing with emotion. He wasn’t buying that, was he? The whole thing reeked of soap opera acting at its worst, horribly over the top from the way she clung to his shirt to the way she batted her shiny blue eyes up at him.
“It’s fine, Carys. I get that you did what you thought you had to do,” Bishop said quietly, and I couldn’t tell if he was taken in by the show or not.
“Anyway…” I tried to move us past that awkward part of the conversation. “We’ve been talking to some people Rob knows, they’re out there trying to get a line on breaking the curse once and for all.”
“It can’t be done,” Carys insisted emphatically. “Believe me, I’ve exhausted all options. The only way to stave off the effects is to harden your heart against your man. It’s the only way to save him.”
“Not if I have something to say about it. I’m going to beat the curse.”
“How do you intend to do this?” she challenged, forgetting to cling to Bishop as she gave me her full attention, eyes narrowing as if I’d said the dumbest thing ever. “You can’t fight a curse.”
“Not with that attitude, you can’t, no,” I tossed back at her. Had I said she was everything I’d wanted to be? Strike that and reverse it. What good was being poised and cultured if she was a great big coward and a fake to boot? No wonder she used compulsion to keep a man. I’d only known her for five minutes and I couldn’t wait to get away from her. Saucer of milk for Anja, my little voice snorted. Meow. “One way or another, I won’t let this thing get the best of us.”
“That’s my…” Bishop changed what he’d been about to say at the last moment. “That’s the spirit,” he finished, but the warm look in his eyes told me what he’d wanted me to know.
My eyes flicked to Rob, but I couldn’t tell what he thought about any of it. In fact, he looked almost bored with the conversation, his eyes wandering to follow a waitress passing by. I took a guess that he was more interested in what she carried in her veins than on the tray, but I couldn’t say it for sure.
I ignored Carys’ dramatics, turning to Bishop. “Actually, do you know where we can find Jakob? He might have some useful facts about how the curse itself was cast.”
“He went back to the hotel when Carys wanted to see this place. I guess he feels the same way you do about it, Anja. He doesn’t think it’s very sportsmanlike,” Bishop grinned and it was all I could do to keep from kissing him at the news.
“Jakob’s here in town? That’s perfect!” Maybe we could get what we needed that night after all? “Where are you staying?”
“The Savoy,” Bishop replied, lowering his voice. “We’ll all go back together.”
“But I’m not ready to go back to the hotel yet,” Carys pouted. “We only just got here. I want to sample some of the wares.”
“You know you don’t need to feed yet.”
Her pout only grew more pronounced, her voice dripping with pitiful injury. “You promised, Ulrik. You promised to show me the delights of the modern world.”
“I don’t think I put it quite that way,” he frowned, and I decided it’d be easier to manage it without them.
“It’s fine, I’m sure I can find him on my own. You two don’t have to cut your night short on our account.”
“No, I think you’re on the right track. I’d like to hear what Jakob has to say. Or, you know… be there, in case you need me.” His expression told me he remembered our last conversation about Jakob. It was either grill him or kill him as far as I was concerned.
Carys’ pout turned into an out and out frown, but instead of forcing the issue, she changed tacks. “I suppose I’d better come along then,” she sniffed. “Jakob’s never been able to deny me anything. If there are answers to be had, I’ll be the one to get them out of him.”
And now Carys was tagging along, yay! “How thoughtful of you,” I smiled thinly. “We’re pretty much ready to go. Right, Rob?”
He hadn’t said one word since we’d started talking, and he didn’t break that spell now, offering a single nod.
“Well then… we’ve got the most wondrous motorcoach,” Carys bubbled enthusiastically. “You must all come for a ride in it!”
“Yes, you must,” Bishop chuckled indulgently, and I bit back a smile.
“That’s okay. We’ve got out own spiffy car waiting for us and I’d hate to ditch Lee.”
“Who’s Lee?” she asked.
“I guess you could call him one of my bodyguards, he’s a werewolf,” I replied and she turned up her nose with a delicate sniff.
“Oh, a nobody.”
“So we’ll meet you at the Savoy then, huh?” I managed to get out without reaching for a hank of her perfect, golden hair.
“See you there,” Bishop agreed.
Lord, beer me strength.
Chapter Ten
Rob found his voice once we stepped over the lobby threshold. “I reckon I should wait down here for you to have your palaver with Jakob.”
I stopped short, not sure where this was coming from. He had the most to lose out of everyone present, I would’ve thought he’d be the first in line to interrogate Jakob. “But… we’re talking about the curse. It sort of concerns you, don’t you think?”
“It concerns me a bit too much,” he replied, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I don’t know ho
w much good I’ll be to you if I can’t keep myself from slitting his fucking throat, I come within twenty feet of Jakob.”
That’s when I noticed his hands were fisted so tightly, I could see the veins bulging on the backs of his arms. I pulled him aside with Lee, not wanting to broadcast our business to Carys and her brand of false charm. “Hey, it’s okay to be pissed at Jakob, but we have to leave all that anger and emotion at the door. The important thing is finding a way to break the curse.”
Rob hung his head in shame. “That’s just it, I can’t leave anything at the door right now. My control is for shit. Best you go talk to him on your own before I muck things up.”
“What if I don’t ask the right questions?” I wasn’t sure what level of detail his cousin might need to know about. What if I missed an important element?
“I trust you.”
There was another concern that leapt to mind though, what with all the humans milling about in the lobby, despite the late hour. “I’m not so sure I should be leaving you down here on your own.” He could make all the promises he wanted, but like he’d said, his control was out of whack.
“I’ll stay with him,” Lee volunteered, and I shot him a grateful smile.
“You will? Thanks.” I felt bad for dragging him all over town and pretty much relegating him to the car, but he seemed to think it was par for the course.
“Sure,” he grinned. “I’ll get us settled right over there with a cup of coffee. You take all the time you need, darlin’,” he winked.
“All set?” Bishop asked when I joined him and Carys by the elevators.
“Yep, Rob’s going to wait down here with Lee while we go up.”
“Everything okay?”
“Let’s just say that Rob’s not Jakob’s biggest fan right now,” I said with a pointed look, glad to see Bishop took my meaning.
“Ah. Should we wait down here with him then?”
“But I don’t want to wait in the lobby,” Carys frowned at his offer and I swear, all I heard was but I want an oompa loompa now! Veruca Salt couldn’t have whined any better.
