Know Me When the Sun Goes Down

by Olsen, Lisa

  The sun was rising. Bishop seemed to realize it at the same time I did, blinking, and rising to his feet. “It’s late. I will leave you to your bedchamber.”

  I caught his hand, not willing to let him go yet. “Stay with me?”

  Desire warred with something else, and I wasn’t sure if it was duty or fear that kept him from readily agreeing. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “Bishop...” I cut him off, not about to let him get away with such a poor excuse.

  To his credit, Bishop didn’t try to wiggle out of it, but it took him a few seconds to articulate what he was feeling. “I know what you’ve said is true, but...”

  “You don’t feel the same for me that I feel for you. It’s alright. I didn’t expect insta-love.” And it really was fine. Would I have preferred it if he’d jumped into my arms and we’d picked up where we left off before the pesky subject of time travel had come up? Of course. But I also understood that it all had to be pretty bananas for him, and he wasn’t coming from the same headspace I was. From his point of view, he’d only just started to care about me; he was bound to need time to process it all.

  I gave him a comforting squeeze before I let go of his hand. “I did what I came to do. I warned you. I only hope it’s enough.”

  His brows twitched closer together. “Are you to return now? To the future?”

  I let out a long breath. There was only one way to find out if it’d worked, if Bishop had lived. Only... had I altered too many things by coming to the past? Would Jakob still approach me in the twenty-first century and turn me after the conversation we’d had? Would Bishop stay in the Order and police me? Or had I irrevocably changed things?

  Everyone I’d met at Vetis would remember me when I became Elder. Did that mean Aubrey would never challenge me and set Volkov against me? Would it ever come to light that Jakob was my Sire? It was enough to make my head spin. “I probably should go back soon,” I allowed. Before I did any more damage.

  “And if I should wish you to stay?” he asked, his voice low and intimate. Yes, that voice he used only for me. How I’d missed it!

  “Do you?”

  His fingers brushed against mine. “I do not know you, Anja, not the way you know me. But I know for the first time in over a century, I want more.”

  “I want that too,” I breathed, leaning closer, hardly daring to hope for more now. This time it was definitely him that initiated the kiss, and I felt his restraint at first, my lips wooing him to lose control. To give into the growing hunger that plagued us both. It was my teeth that scraped at his bottom lip first, but his fangs were the ones that pierced my flesh, and he gave a ragged moan as my blood slid into his mouth. There was no compulsion with my blood this time, no focus on memories other than to build new ones.

  On and on the kiss went, pleasure zinging down to my toes at every pull of his mouth on my lip, and his hands forgot to be gentlemanly as they roamed my body freely, claiming me as his own. I fumbled with his buttons, desperate to be closer to him, but when I managed to get through to his skin, Bishop broke the kiss, forehead pressing against mine as he fought to get his breathing under control.

  “Goodnight, Anja,” he said, pulling back to look into my eyes, fingers brushing against my cheek in a fleeting touch. “I’ll seek you out when the sun sets.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  He did the Regency bow thing and left, yearning, hunger, and fatigue all mingling on his face to give me a profound hope.

  I let out a long breath as I leaned against the door, savoring the memory of the kiss – so like my Bishop and yet so different. Was it dumb to think of starting something new with him now? Shouldn’t I be trying to get back to future Bishop? But what if it didn’t work? What if I went back to a life without him? What if my only shot at a future with Bishop was in the past?

  * * *

  The next night, I’d barely finished telling Bridget all about how things had gone down with Bishop while braiding her hair, when a knock came at the door. I opened it to find Bishop standing there, a bunch of wildflowers clutched in one hand.

  “I couldn’t find carnations, will these do?”

  Touched that he’d picked up on my favorite flower in passing from our conversation the night before, I accepted them with a smile. “Yes, they’ll do. They’re lovely. Please, come in.” I stepped back from the door, but he remained in place.

  “Actually, I thought to invite you out instead. That is, if you have no other plans for the evening?”

  “It so happens that I do not,” I replied, hiding my grin behind the blooms as I lifted them to my nose. “What about you though? No Order business tonight, or are we mixing business with pleasure?”

  “All I seek is the pleasure of your company tonight, the Order be damned,” he replied, and I shot him a scandalized look.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my Bishop? Hmm, or can I really call you my Bishop in this time?”

  Bishop stepped closer, bringing my hand up to his lips. “I assure you, I am yours, madam. In this time and any other.”

  “Aw, look at the two of you, so sweet I could eat your brains like jam,” Bridget deadpanned. “If you guys are going out, can I chill here? I don’t feel like watching you make googly eyes at each other the whole way into town.”

  “She’s American,” I reminded him at his perplexed look.

  “She’s very good at it,” he replied.

  “Sure, you can stay in. I just have to eat before we go out,” I added to Bishop.

  “Shall we go hunting together?” he suggested, and I waved him off.

  “No, I can get something here before we go out. No need to go through all of that on my account.”

  “It’s no trouble.”

  “I know, but it’s easier this way.” The last thing I wanted to do was inadvertently spark his jealousy when things were going so well.

  Only Bishop seemed to find my refusal troubling anyway. “Is there a reason why you don’t wish to hunt with me?”

  “You’ve told me before that it makes you uncomfortable to share that kind of intimacy with someone else between us. That’s why I try not to go for any hunks.”

  He stared at me blankly. “Hunks?”

  “Hey, it was your word, not mine,” I pointed out. “Attractive men.”

  “And you gave up the hunt simply because it made me uncomfortable?” The idea seemed foreign to him.

  “I’d do anything for you,” I shrugged. “Besides, like I told you, it’s not a game, it’s just a meal. I’d eat blood bags every day if it didn’t taste like plastic and leave me susceptible to ACBT.”

  “That’s the blood thinner weapon,” he clarified, and I pointed to my nose.

  “Yep. You were paying attention.”

  “It is hard to miss when you nearly died because of it,” he frowned, much as he had when I’d told him about the attack on my life. “We can hunt together, if you like. It won’t make me uncomfortable.”

  “Are you sure?”

  His head tilted to one side as he thought it over. “If it bothered me before, perhaps it was because I remembered the games Carys used to play. But it’s plain to see you are nothing like her. It will not bother me to see you feed from a... hunk of man, not when I know how deeply I am in your heart.”

  “You say the sweetest things,” I smiled, and he leaned in and kissed me impulsively. “What was that for?” I asked, delighted, but surprised by the open affection, especially with Bridget in the room, even if she was ignoring us.

  “Do I need a reason to kiss you?”

  “No sir, you go on and kiss me any old time you want to.”

  Bishop took me into his arms and kissed me more seriously, the heat building between us quickly, so that it was getting harder and harder to stop each time.

  “Let us go now or we might never leave,” he said in that low, intimate voice, telling me he felt the same way.

  “Would that be such a bad thing?”

  He let out
a long breath. “I have something I wish to show you.”

  “By all means, let’s see it,” I grinned, my eyes raking over his body, and he chuckled.

  “Saucy chit, I meant in London. Shall we be off?”

  There was a light of excitement in his eyes that was contagious. “Don’t wait up, Bridge,” I called out, swiping my reticule on the way out.

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she called after us, barely looking up from the book on her lap.

  * * *

  Bishop was right, he didn’t mind hunting together one bit. Granted, the guy I picked wouldn’t have won any beauty contests, but he was tall and well muscled, strong enough to feed us both. Still, it didn’t seem to bother him when Daniel’s hands (that was his name, Daniel) roamed over my body as we pressed close to drink, as long as it was Bishop’s kiss I sought when we were done. It was kind of a breakthrough for us to be able to share something like that without any current of jealousy whatsoever.

  Afterwards, feeling much more like myself, we walked all over the city. Bishop showed me some of his favorite places, and I showed him some of mine – well, the ones that were around back then. And then we came to Westminster Abbey.

  “Shall we go up?” he asked, gesturing for me to proceed.

  “Are we allowed to?”

  “We’re vampires, Anja, there is no one to bar us from anywhere we’d like to go. How have you not embraced this? You are not newly made,” he replied, his forehead furrowing.

  “I don’t like to compel people unless I have to. I never feel like I have the right for such an invasion.”

  “Such a tender heart,” he smiled, catching hold of my hand. “Let us be stealthy then, so as not to invade more than the building,” he whispered, pulling me with him. Like thieves, we stole into the Abbey, easily bypassing their nominal security to climb the tower. I’d seen plenty of impressive views in my day, many of them with Bishop by my side, but there was something magical about seeing the lights of London stretching before us without the haze of modern pollution.

  “This is what I wanted to show you,” he sighed, looking out over the city. “So much has changed since I last came here, I can hardly imagine what you’re used to.”

  “It’s very different,” I allowed, not knowing how much in the way of specifics I should get into when talking about the future. “Everything is so much faster, from food to transportation. Nobody ever takes the time to stop and enjoy the moment.”

  “Let us enjoy the moment then.”

  That voice… it did things to me, even before my gaze swung around to find him staring at me intently, leaving no doubt that his mind was thinking the same thing I was. There was no hurried grappling, no frenzied passion – instead it was a slow burn, a current of excitement flowing between us as we drifted closer together.

  Was it love I saw in his gaze? Was it hunger? I recognized the need for sure, and gave into it, crossing those last few millimeters of space to press my lips against his. The effect on him was electric, his entire body coming to life as he gathered me into his arms as if he’d never let me go. And I pressed against him shamelessly, offering myself up to him the way a proper Regency miss never would.

  “Bishop…” I murmured against his lips. “God, how I’ve missed this.”

  He only made a deep, rumbling sound of approval, his kiss burning hotter, more like the Bishop I knew as his passion kindled into a flame. I felt the tension in his arms, straining almost as if we were grappling in combat as he struggled to remain in control, to keep from giving in to more than a kiss.

  I wanted to make him lose that control. I reached for him, finding him hard and ready for more, and I stroked him boldly. Was it rushing things between us in this time? I hardly cared. All I knew was, this was Bishop, and I desperately needed to make him mine again.

  His hips bucked at my touch, pressing me up against the wall as he moaned against my lips. I pushed back, grinding up against him until he felt my need was just as urgent. I was done worrying about how I was supposed to act, not when we both wanted it so badly.

  He tore his lips from mine, chest heaving with the effort it cost him to break the kiss. “We shouldn’t be doing this here,” he breathed.

  “Where should we go then?”

  Bishop groaned, unable to stop kissing down the side of my neck and shoulders as he spoke. “You make me forget all propriety.”

  “Screw propriety.” I pulled back to look into his eyes. “Bishop, I watched you die. I’ll take any opportunity to be with you there is. I’ve always wanted you, I’ll never stop wanting you.”

  His eyes were dark in the moonlight, shining with more than lust, I hoped. Raising my hand to his lips, he placed a kiss to the inside of my wrist, his words humming over my skin. “Then let us quit this place.”

  I swallowed hard at the promise I saw there. Holy schnikes, this was really going to happen!

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Once he’d made up his mind, Bishop didn’t waste any time, and we left about twice as fast as we’d arrived, only stopping when we’d reached the carriage. He handed me inside, and this time I didn’t let him take the opposite seat, I scooted close as soon as the door was latched.

  Apart from a surprised intake of breath, Bishop didn’t object, pulling me into his lap, his arms closing around me as his mouth covered mine. From the hardness pressing up against my backside, I could tell he hadn’t lost any of the urgency as the carriage lurched forward into motion.

  “Why does the house have to be so far away?” I sighed once his lips left mine to nibble on my ear.

  “We’re not going to the house,” he replied, kissing lower.

  “We’re not?”

  “No, I don’t think I can wait that long to be inside you,” Bishop rasped, lips reaching the tops of my breasts, pillowed high from the corset, and I felt the scrape of his fangs, a sure sign that he was fast reaching the point of no return.

  “Then don’t.” I fumbled with the buttons of his pants. How did you open one of those suckers anyway?

  Bishop shifted his hold on me, giving me better access to his breeches, only to capture my hands seconds later, stilling their exploration. “I will have you in a proper bed.”

  “Yes, in the bed, on the floor, against the wall, here in the carriage… we’ll have all of those things.”

  His answering chuckle rumbled through his chest, setting me to tingle all over. “I will not rush our first coupling,” he insisted. “I wish it to be as sweet as you are. But since you can not wait...” His hand slipped under my skirt, and I squirmed as he reached my upper thighs.

  “I thought you wanted to do things properly?” I squeaked when he brushed against my tender center.

  “And I will, but first I shall make you ready for me.”

  “I’m all kinds of ready.”

  His fingers parted my slick folds, stroking with expert care. “I see that you are. But there is ready, and there is ready.” The last was punctuated by a swirl over the tiny nub of nerves, making my head fall back as my hips pitched forward against his hand, craving more. His touch was unrelenting, and Bishop swallowed my urgent cries with his kiss, stroking me higher and higher, the gentle rocking of the carriage only adding to my delight.

  I only had one complaint – I couldn’t reach him very well from my position. “I want to touch you too,” I breathed, sucking in another breath, my eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

  “You shall, but for now, let me love you, dearest.” His kiss swallowed any reply I might have, and then the ability to form words left me as his fingers stepped up their magical rhythm, swirling and dipping, filling and stretching me, making me ready, as he’d promised. I was so ready, it didn’t take long to send me over the edge, Bishop’s name on my lips as I broke apart, collapsing against his chest.

  “We’re here.”

  When had the carriage come to a stop? “I need a minute. I don’t think I can walk,” I protested, my skirt all tangled up by my waist, an
d I was pretty sure my elegant braids were down around my ears.

  “I’ll carry you.”

  “That’ll raise a few eyebrows, don’t you think? Especially if you carry me in like this, all breathless and flushed. And you’re…” I looked down to where he strained the fabric of his pants. Was he even harder than he was before?

  “Then I will simply compel them to forget they saw you in such a state of dishabille, if you prefer it.” His arm scooped around the back of my legs, pulling me closer. “But I mean to take you inside and make you mine, madam. Make no mistake of that.”

  I reached up to stroke his cheek. “I told you, I’m already yours. In every way that counts.”

  “Then let us get inside or I will take you in this coach where you sit. And all will hear how I pleasure you, and how you shout my name in fulfillment.”

  I swallowed hard, seeing the promise in his eyes. Whatever veneer of control Bishop had was worn paper thin. While I might’ve gotten a juicy preview of what was to come, he was still wound as tight as a top. “Let’s go inside.”

  His chuckle came low and deep. “I thought as much.”

  Despite my assertion that I couldn’t walk, my legs worked fine as he handed me out of the carriage, and I even managed to look fairly composed as I took his arm. If the innkeeper thought it strange that we’d arrived at that hour without any luggage, he was smart enough to keep it to himself. Especially when Bishop demanded the finest room and ordered us not to be disturbed for any reason.

  Despite the urgency in his manner when we were in the carriage, he didn’t attack me with kisses the moment we were alone. Instead, he calmly, methodically lit every candle in the place until the room was bathed in golden light. I was definitely on board with that plan, I wanted to see him too. All of him.

  Without speaking, I crossed the distance between us, working the buttons of his coat, and shrugging it from his shoulders. The waistcoat came next, and then the yards of thin silk that wound around his neck in an intricate bow. There was only one button on the shirt besides the cuffs, and he cooperated, lifting his arms up when I pulled it over his head.