Know Me When the Sun Goes Down

by Olsen, Lisa

  “That’s just it, she keeps me off balance,” Bishop replied, all bewildered frustration. “My world is off kilter since I met her, and I don’t know how to set it to rights again. I don’t even know if I want to.” Perhaps it was time to take a blind leap of faith?

  “All I say is that you’re fast approaching the time when you won’t have this problem anymore, because it will be out of your hands.”

  “Why, what have you heard?” Bishop frowned, and Clay’s attention focused on the approach of another.

  “There are those who will not hesitate in the face of your uncertainty.”

  “Ah, brother dear, there you are,” Aubrey smiled. “A word if you please.”

  “I’ll see you later,” Clay said, pulling a strategic retreat.

  “I couldn’t help but notice a general cooling between you and our lovely sister. Am I right in assuming that the two of you are on the outs?”

  “There’s nothing to be on the outs of. Anja and I are not intimately involved,” Bishop lied glibly, tamping down the part of him that insisted there was absolutely far more intimacy than he let on.

  “Grand. Then if you’re finished with her, I’d like to take a tumble if you don’t mind.”

  Bishop’s fist pistoned out before he even made the conscious decision to act, slamming into Aubrey’s face with a satisfying crunch.

  Aubrey merely smiled, pressing a delicately embroidered handkerchief to his bleeding nose. “Don’t fancy sharing like the old days, eh?”

  “She’s nothing like Carys,” Bishop bit out, clenching his hand against the urge to strike him again.

  “They all are once you get them between the sheets.”

  “Say that again and your head comes off your shoulders.” In the next instant he had his dagger, wickedly sharp and solid enough to take a man’s head, drawn from his boot and pressed to Aubrey’s throat.

  Aubrey’s hands came up, fear behind his eyes as he tried for a careless grin. “Very well, brother. I concede.”

  But was Aubrey right? Would Anja wish for an arrangement the way Carys had? The idea left a bad taste in his mouth, and he released Aubrey, hoping he’d go away and stop tormenting him with such asinine ideas.

  “Speak of the devil,” Aubrey said as Anja appeared at the end of the hall. “Here she is now, our dulcet darling,” he called out, arms open and welcoming.

  “Zip it, Aubrey, nobody cares,” she muttered, barely sparing him a glance before she marched up to Bishop to declare, “We need to talk.”

  Despite the thrill that went through him as she delivered the bizarre set down to Aubrey, Bishop cultivated the space around his heart that he needed to survive the conversation. “I believe we’ve said all that needs saying.”

  “That’s where you’d be wrong, because I have a lot more to say about this. Now, do you want to do this in private, or should we put on a show? Because we absolutely are going to talk more about this.”

  There was something about the way she said that, almost the same inflection as he did when she said absolutely... what an odd habit? Had she possibly picked it up from him? It was madness to think so.

  There were a hundred reasons to walk away, at least a third of them valid Order business, but in the end he couldn’t resist her. “Very well, I will escort you to your chambers.”

  “Thank you, kind sir,” she replied, eyes glowing with victory, and it was hard not to take her into his arms and kiss that smug triumph away. Or would that only serve to make her more triumphant still?

  She wrapped her dainty hand around his arm, again lacking gloves. Why did she never wear gloves? The idea of her bare hand on his arm drove him to distraction, her sweet fragrance tempting him all the way up to her rooms. As he neared the door, an unreasoning panic seized hold of his lungs, telling him this was a terrible idea, but he found himself powerless to do more than follow her inside.

  Her human lurched to her feet as soon as they arrived. “Ooh, that’s my cue, I’m outta here,” she declared.

  “You don’t have to leave, Bridge,” Anja frowned, but her companion simply smiled.

  “Yeah, I do. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be down hustling tuppence in a game of quarters. Good luck!”

  “Wait.” Anja’s face lit with hope. “Bishop, would it make you feel better to ask Bridget a few questions?”

  “And is she claiming to be from the future as well?” he asked mildly.

  “Damn straight I am,” Bridget replied, her chin coming up in defiance, as if expecting him to doubt her.

  Bishop ignored that challenge, dealing solely with Anja. “And how would I be able to trust anything she says?”

  “You can compel her. If that’s alright with you, Bridget, of course.”

  “Sure, I don’t mind. As long as you don’t make me your sex puppet, cause you’re not my type,” she said, looking him up and down entirely too familiarly.

  “Bridget...” Anja warned.

  “It’s not like he ain’t got an ass that don’t quit, but he’s a little too pretty for my tastes.”

  “Bridget!”

  “I mean, I might make an exception if you were both down, but...”

  “Bridget!!!” Anja all but exploded.

  “What?”

  “Stop helping!”

  Bishop choked back a fit of apoplexy as the full meaning of the odd conversation made itself known to him. “It’s not necessary,” he said brusquely.

  “Suit yourself.” Bridget waved them off, disappearing with a slam of the door, muttering to herself about panties in a wad, whatever that meant.

  “Thank you for trusting me.” Anja dimpled into a glorious smile.

  “On the contrary, I couldn’t be certain that you hadn’t compelled her to answer in a manner of your choosing.”

  Her smile faded, eyes hardening like sharp stones. “Okay, I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re straight up calling me a liar because I can tell you’re upset. But you have to give me a chance to prove myself.”

  “And how do you think to do that? Conjure a way for me to return to your farcical future?” he snorted.

  “Trust me, if there was a door in the back of the wardrobe to take us back to my time, I would’ve dragged you through it a long time ago. That wasn’t what I had in mind.”

  “What did you have in mind?” he demanded, thinking it all a stalling tactic. There couldn’t possibly be a way to cement her claims.

  “If you’d stop being so snippy I’d tell you,” she declared hotly.

  “Fine,” he retorted, arms crossing over his chest, and she mirrored his action, fire flaring in her eyes.

  “Fine!”

  “Fine.” His tone challenged, waiting for her to produce such a thing.

  “Ugh, some things never change,” she muttered. “Anyway, as I was about to say, I think I know a way to show you I’m telling the truth.”

  “How will you manage that?”

  “With my blood.”

  “With your blood?” His head canted to one side in confusion, he’d never heard of such a thing.

  “Will you trust me?” Her voice softened as she beseeched him, reaching for his hand, and he hadn’t the strength to pull it away. “Please, Bishop, if there’s any love in your heart for me, any at all, trust me and let me do this.”

  The catch in her voice was his undoing, and all the anger drained out of him in an instant, replaced by equal parts yearning and hope. “What will you have me do?”

  Anja held up her delicate wrist to his lips. “Drink,” she said simply.

  That was what she wanted? Brows twitching together in confusion, Bishop had to admit, the idea of tasting her held enough appeal that he already felt the tips of his fangs descending in anticipation. “But how...?”

  “Drink, älskling,” she ordered. “Drink and know me.”

  Entranced by the lure of her blood, he sank into her smooth skin. The taste of her burst over his palate, pure and sweet, and richer than anything he’d tasted in over a ce
ntury. Her breath came in soft pants that quickened his blood, knowing he brought her pleasure by drawing against her flesh.

  “Close your eyes and see,” she commanded, her voice filled with need. “Close your eyes and know me.”

  Bishop’s eyes slid shut, and a disorienting moment later, he found himself in unfamiliar surroundings, a stairwell he did not recognize with metal railings and strange gaslights. He saw himself through different eyes – dressed in a tight fitting shirt (entirely too tight to be seen without a waistcoat and jacket) with no laces or buttons, dark breeches with far too many pockets, and a scandalous lack of any neckcloth. His hair was shorter than he’d ever worn it, but there was no mistaking the cut of his jaw or the capable way he held himself – they were one and the same. His future self?

  “Why are you here in the first place then and not in Rome?” When he spoke, it was Anja’s voice he heard, and Bishop was powerless to act or say anything on his own. All he could do was watch and learn.

  “I’m here for you.” He grabbed her by the arm, jogging ahead to block her escape. It was clear that they knew each other well. How odd that he had no memory of this event at all. Was it a dream? He’d heard of vampires with the ability to share dreams, though he’d never practiced it himself. Was she sharing a hope or a memory with him? “Don’t you get it? If you died… that’d be it for me. There wouldn’t be anything else to go on for.”

  “Don’t say that.” Did he mean those words? Would there come a time when he’d give up his life if he couldn’t be with her?

  “It’s true.”

  “It shouldn’t be. Bishop, I can’t be your something to live for. I don’t want to be what Carys was for you.” She side stepped him, continuing on her way down to avoid his gaze, and Bishop was struck by the depth of her feelings. She proclaimed she didn’t want to be his everything, but she loved him still, he felt it radiating out of her. “You were right before when you said it wasn’t healthy to get so wrapped up in someone. You can’t pin all your hopes and dreams on one person, it isn’t right. I can’t be that for you and I can’t let you live for maybes. I’m with Rob now, maybe not openly, but in my heart…”

  Rob? Who was this Rob and how had he deigned to let him live for stealing away his love?

  “It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted, chasing after her, and she frowned, shaking off his light hold.

  “Of course it matters.”

  “No…” He darted around her in a burst of speed, blocking her way. Two steps above him, she couldn’t avoid that magnetic gaze any longer. “I mean it doesn’t matter who you’re with right now, I have faith that we belong together. You’re still looking at this through human eyes. I spent over a hundred years chasing after Carys. In that time she’d run hot and cold, sometimes spanning years, but she always came back to me.”

  “I’m nothing like her.” Oh, she greatly disliked being compared to Carys, and he could not blame her. She was correct, they were nothing alike.

  “And I’m not saying you are.” His counterpart’s hands came up in a supplicating gesture, his voice dropping to a soothing pitch. “I’m saying what I learned is that some things change, but the important things don’t. No matter what captured her day to day interests, I know she loved me.” He rose up to the next step, closing the space between them. “I have faith deep down that we’ll end up together, I can feel it when we kiss,” he said, his gaze dropping to her lips, his voice little more than a rumble she felt in her chest. From his unique perspective, Bishop felt the love from both sides, recognizing the earnest tone in his own words and the rush of heat he felt from her response. “It’s like we’re touching souls.”

  She backed up a step, and then another, putting a cushion of space between them, and Bishop groaned in frustration. How could she draw away when they were so obviously meant for each other? Her breath was shaky as she responded, “Bishop, I’m not trying to hurt you, but you have to understand that I love Rob.”

  “You love me too,” his counterpart said with absolute conviction, and Bishop knew the truth of it with every fiber of his being.

  “I love him more.”

  “Today,” he allowed with a faint smile that frustrated Bishop to no end. Why not simply kiss her, make her feel the destiny between them? “But someday that will change. You’ll change. He’ll change...”

  “I can’t imagine changing that much.”

  “No? Think of how much you’ve changed since you first became a vampire. I believe things happen for a reason. There’s a reason I was there for you when you first turned, there’s a reason why I spared you that had nothing to do with compulsion and everything to do with our connection. I’m sorry I was such an ass that I couldn’t see it before, but maybe it wasn’t our time yet. You’ve said it time and again, forever is a long time. I love you now, but I’m even more excited to see the person you become tomorrow and the year after that, and the decade after that and the century next. I have faith that we’ll be together someday the way we deserve to be, and when it happens…” His face broke into a glorious smile, and Bishop thought he almost had her. He’d been there when she’d turned? Then she had to be from a different time, since she was far stronger than he in the past.

  She’d never expected such a beautiful sentiment to come out of him. Why not? Had he truly changed so much that he couldn’t fight for the woman he loved? Why had he wasted all of this time? Then again, wasn’t that what he’d done now? He’d retreated when he should’ve fought.

  “Bishop, I...”

  He silenced her with a single touch. “It’s okay, I get it. A lot of things will come between us, that’s the way life is. Just remember that I love you, and I’ll try to always be here for you when you need me the most. I’m not saying I won’t screw things up from time to time, because let’s face it, I’m my own worst enemy sometimes.” His head dipped in a self deprecating smile that she couldn’t help but share.

  “You really are,” she agreed. Some things never changed, Bishop agreed too.

  Bishop’s counterpart drew himself up, squaring his shoulders. “But that’s why I’m coming with you today. Because we both deserve a shot at getting it right someday and that won’t happen if you die by Lodinn’s hand. Love me or not, you need me, and I can help you, even if it’s only to be by your side.”

  Bishop held his breath, wondering if it would be enough. “Fine, you can come.”

  “That’s my girl.” His smile stretched wider again. “Alright, what’s the play?”

  And then it was over, and Bishop blinked away the dizziness, the room seeming overly dim after the strangely lit stairwell. Yet when his gaze lit upon Anja, she seemed strangely incandescent, as if she glowed from within as she waited in anticipation for his reaction.

  “What was that?” he asked, clearing his throat.

  “That was a memory of us, you and me, about two hundred years from now, give or take.”

  “I don’t understand. How can I feel these things that haven’t happened yet?” It was one thing to experience a memory like watching a play, but he’d felt the love on both sides of that conversation. That sliver of the future was more real to him than his own trusted memories.

  “Because you and I are meant to be. Your heart knows it even if your brain hasn’t figured it out yet. Do you believe me now?”

  “That you are from the future?” How could he say no? He’d seen a glimpse into such a place, and it held the ring of truth. And yet... a part of him still clung to the impossibility of such a thing. “It is a lot to fathom,” he murmured, pulling away from her bright gaze.

  Anja followed after him, giving him no quarter. “Let me tell you a story. Not just a few glimpses here and there, but the story of us. From beginning to end.”

  “There’s an end?”

  “There was. That’s why I’m here.”

  “And I am the one who gave you that ring.” His gaze fell to the diamond on her finger. She had not been wearing it in the snippet of memory, did that mean
he’d been able to best his rival Rob and secure her affections? Her declarations of love seemed to support that, and Bishop took a smug triumph over a man he’d never met.

  Anja removed the ring, handing it to him. Inside were inscribed tiny words – to the stars and back. “You were about to. You died before you could give it to me.”

  “How did I die?” It suddenly seemed terribly important to know.

  “Let me start at the beginning. First, I died...”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was nearly dawn by the time I wrapped up, my voice low and husky from the constant narrative. Bishop had sat transfixed, devouring every word, his expression ranging from incredulous to furious, sometimes over an argument, or someone who had wronged us. Of course there were parts I skimmed over. Instead of telling him about Jakob, I glossed over who my Sire was. It wasn’t my secret to tell, even to Bishop. I also didn’t go over too much of my time with Rob, except that we’d been together and the things that had torn us apart.

  Okay, so I probably should’ve mentioned Carys, but I didn’t. I know, it was a crappy thing to do, but I couldn’t bring her into it, not when things were so tenuous between us. Right then she had a bigger hold over him than I did, and I couldn’t know if he’d decide he had to charge off to her rescue rather than sit and deal with me.

  I made damn sure I explained how he’d died on the boat, emphasizing that he must never, ever book any kind of cruise for us, no matter how good of an idea it sounded at the time.

  When I was done, we both sat very quietly for long minutes, him processing, and me musing over some of the more bittersweet memories. I’d lost so many friends and loved ones over my short time as a vampire. Gunnar, Marcus, Ellie, Nelleke, Lee. How many of them would still be alive if I’d never been turned? It was pointless to dwell over who to blame, but I still missed every one of them like crazy.