by Olsen, Lisa
A millisecond before the sheet came off, my eyes popped open and a high, keening cry leaked out of me like the air out of a balloon – my only available version of a scream. The effect was electrifying. Both men screamed, and like a switch was flipped, I felt the energy rush back into my limbs. Filling my lungs with air, I screamed right back at them, and we stared at each other, all of us screaming for a good ten seconds before the room got really quiet.
“You’re… you’re…” The guy dropped his clipboard as he backed up a few feet. The one who came to get me continued to stare at me like I had just risen from the dead, which was understandable.
“W-where am I?” My voice sounded shrill to my ears and I couldn’t help but wince, doing my best to swallow back my fear. I felt… wrong somehow, but I couldn’t quite identify why. Finding myself in such strange surroundings was too distracting.
“Shoreline Memorial Hospital in San Francisco. You’re, um… you’re supposed to be dead.”
Shoreline was the same hospital Bridget used to work at. The same morgue I’d first woken up at, and sure enough, these were the same two guys who’d originally found me. What were the odds I’d encounter them twice? And even more freaky, that their conversation would be so close to the first one?
I was tired of lying down and I might have said something to that effect as I pushed myself up to a seated position, but I was too busy looking at my surroundings to be sure if I’d spoken out loud. It looked like the same morgue down to the last detail.
“I feel…” dizzy, confused, itchy, nauseous, sore, tired, wrong… “…different.” My tongue finally supplied, and I again marveled at the sound of my own voice. Was it my ears or the timbre of my voice that had changed? It was impossible to tell, but I didn’t feel like my usual vampy self at all. I didn’t even feel like the weakened version of me, I felt... heavier. Like my muscles were sluggish and out of practice.
“That’s understandable, you’ve been dead for over an hour,” the morgue attendant replied distractedly, bending to pick up the clipboard.
“Oh, come on, Dave, there’s obviously been a mistake. She’s no more dead than you or me. I know some folks that are going to be glad to see you up and walking around.” The other guy gave me an encouraging smile.
Despite the dizziness, I launched myself to my feet, stumbling as I got used to my heavier limbs.
“Whoa, are you sure you should be up and around?” Smiley guy reached out to steady me, catching hold of my elbows.
That’s when I noticed the front of my dress had been cut and gaped open, showing more of my natural assets than I cared to, outside of a beach. No, not my dress, it was the same Viking costume Jakob had dressed me in when he’d turned me. The underdress was made from a scratchy, coarse linen, the color of marigolds. The outer layer was a heavier, indigo wool, held up just below the shoulders by two round metal broaches adorned with three running horses, their legs intertwined.
Sweet zombie Jesus... I wasn’t... I couldn’t be back to that night, could I?
“Let me see this,” I said, snatching the clipboard out of the morgue attendant’s hands. Sure enough, the date at the top matched the night Jakob turned me. Somehow I’d popped back to that night instead of my present. Great googly moogly, what a mess!
“Hey, that’s mine,” he frowned, grabbing it back out of my hands, and I didn’t fight him for it, I already had what I needed to know. I leaned against the table, trying to process what this meant. Had there been kerfuffles? Was this a world where we used fish for currency?
“Ma’am, I’m Mike Turley, I work for the medical examiner’s office with SFPD. Do you remember anything about what happened to you tonight?” the friendly guy asked, and I realized I had to get out of there pronto.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Mike,” I said, reaching for his will with mine. “You’ll forget all about me being here and go on back to the office.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, I can’t do that. You’ll have to give a statement and...”
“Frak, I forgot I’m still human,” I muttered when the compulsion fell completely flat.
Both men looked at me like I’d started chanting two by two, hands of blue. They exchanged meaningful glances at each other, which meant I was a half a second away from being strapped to a gurney and wheeled to the psych ward.
“I’m sorry, I’m a bit rattled about what happened tonight. Of course I’ll cooperate fully with your investigation, Mr. Turley. I wonder, could I get a glass of water first? It’s not every day a girl almost dies,” I said, offering him my most winsome smile.
Mike thawed, instantly solicitous. “Of course. Why don’t you have a seat here and I’ll be right back with that. You’ll keep an eye on her, won’t you, Dave?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dave waved, typing furiously at his keyboard, probably putting in an order for a psychological evaluation as we spoke.
My eyes flicked to the swinging door as Mike left, and I waited a full count of ten before I lurched out of the chair and out the door with a soft rush of air. The earlier stiffness was completely gone, no trace of the paralysis, though I still felt off my game. Which made perfect sense if I wasn’t a vampire yet.
Every second that drew me farther away, I expected to hear my name called from behind, or even a stop that girl! yelled after me. But I didn’t run into a soul on my way to the wide elevator at the end of the hallway. As the doors slid shut, so did my eyes, and I allowed myself a brief moment to catch my breath and give thanks to the gods above for not only allowing me to get away, but for bringing me back to the future – and then I remembered... Bridget.
Would I find her up on the third floor or had she died on a deserted stretch of English countryside in the middle of the night? Or maybe both?
The elevator doors opened and I stepped out onto the deserted hallway, my heart in my throat until I spotted her standing at the nurse’s station, head bobbing to Linkin Park blaring from her earbuds.
Making a beeline for the nurse’s desk, I was gratified to find it deserted, except for the two of us. The entire floor was silent, but for the soft drone and beeps of equipment in the background. Her head bobbed to the music, casually flipping through a magazine on the counter, completely unaware of my approach until I touched her elbow and she jumped a foot.
“Jesus Christ, what are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?” she gasped, hand flying to cover her heart. I heard it beating too, thump, thump, thump, it was almost hypnotic. “Hello? Earth to Anja…” She waggled her fingers in front of my face, and I snapped out of it.
“Oh, sorry. I was just… I’m having the weirdest night.” Talk about an understatement. Now that I’d found her, I wasn’t sure where to begin. It was obvious she had no idea I’d been down in the morgue and didn’t mention anything about the time travel or dying. Did that mean she had no memory of what we’d been through? Not only in the past, but the future? No hooking up with Felix, not cheating with Rob? Nothing about vampires at all?
“Ah, it’s a little early for Halloween isn’t it? What’s with the ensemble?” Her fingers waved again in the general direction of my outfit.
“It’s, um...” My brain froze as I tried to decide what to tell her. The first time I’d shared every detail, too weirded out about what’d happened to me not to include her. But did I really want to bring her into that world again? All I could remember was the panic in her eyes as she’d preferred to die than be turned into a bloodsucker. And the dead, hopeless look in her eyes when I’d found her in that feeder club in Amsterdam.
“Oh, you know me, I like to plan ahead. I was thinking zombie shieldmaiden, what do you think?” I grinned, striking a pose.
“It’s kind of risqué for you,” she replied, her gaze darting down to the slashed bodice. “But hey, I’ve always said you need to let your girls breathe a bit more. Far be it from me to judge.”
She sounded so normal, so carefree, so... Even though she’d regained some of her old spirit, there
had been a core of sadness to Bridget since we’d reconnected, and it did my heart good to see her so... innocent. Yes, innocent, though that was a word she never would’ve used to describe herself.
“I love you so much, Bridget,” I grinned, throwing my arms around her in a tight hug, and she immediately wriggled out of it.
“Hey, I know Trent was king of the asshats and totally turned you off of dudes, but I’m not into chicks. Try to resist the charms, would ya?” she grumbled.
“I am definitely not turned off of dudes,” I retorted, unable to keep the smile from my face. “In fact, I’d better get home and get ready, there’s one I’m expecting soon.”
“No shit, you got a date?”
“I sure hope so,” I sighed, already backing toward the elevator.
“Hey, should you be walking home without any shoes?” she frowned. “And where are your glasses?”
“I... got contacts,” I lied glibly, almost forgetting there was a time when I wouldn’t have left the house without my glasses. Another perk courtesy of Jakob’s gift. Jakob’s gift... I looked down at my hand, noticing for the first time that I wasn’t wearing his ring. What did that mean? Was he the one that’d turned me after all? Or had he decided not to curse me this time?
“Maybe I should take my lunch break and drive you home,” she frowned, seeing me standing there staring at my hand like a weirdo.
“That would be shiny, thanks,” I replied, finding my smile again. Hopefully I’d have enough time to wash off the worst of the dried blood before Bishop showed up. If he showed up. What would I do if he didn’t? And what would I do if he did?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Before I knew it, we arrived at our apartment, the darkened street completely deserted at the late hour. The apartment was set in a three story row house, each house identical in shape as its neighbor on our street, as far as the eye could see.
It gave me a pang of homesickness to pull up to the old place. It’d been years since I’d been there, but it looked exactly the same, of course. I didn’t have my purse or keys or anything, so she had to come up and let me in. That was another conversation I’d have to get through – Detective Lucas bringing me my purse and delivering my second interrogation of the night.
“I have to get back to work, are you gonna be alright?” Bridget asked, pulling me out of my nostalgia.
“Sure, I’ll be fine.” I waved away the rare moment of concern on her part. “I’m going to clean up and get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Laters,” she called out, already hustling down the stairs to get back to work.
It was so weird to be back in my old apartment, back in my old room, with all my old clothes, the ones Serena had slashed to ribbons. Weirder still to look at myself in the harsh light of the bathroom mirror and see myself through human eyes. Well, semi-human.
Glancing at the time, I decided to risk taking a quick shower, wanting to be fresh when Bishop got there. After the shower, I dressed in my comfy pajamas and curled up on the couch with my soft, plush blanket (the one I got from my sister for Christmas with purple faeries all over it) to wait him out. As the time ticked on, I started to wonder – what would I do if he didn’t show?
Just because he’d come there that night originally didn’t mean the circumstances were the same at all. After all, I’d changed things by going back in time. Should I call him and find out where he was? What if he didn’t even have that same number in my new reality? I froze as a knock reverberated through the room.
Bishop.
I practically flew to the door, throwing it open instead of peeking through the peephole. There he stood, a sharp change from the Regency garb. His hair was short and spiky again, unshaven stubble covering the cheeks I’d gotten used to being baby smooth. He was dressed in the same dark clothes I remembered with a leather motorcycle jacket.
We stared at each other, sort of drinking each other in, before he cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Ma’am, my name is...”
“Bishop!” I cried out, throwing my arms around him in a tackle hug. After a startled moment, he hugged me back fiercely.
“Anja, it is you,” he breathed, buying his face in my hair. “I don’t understand. How do you know me?”
“I came back early,” I laughed, pulling back to look at him. “I don’t know how, or why, but instead of 2017 I came back now, tonight, in the morgue.”
His brows drew closer together as he puzzled through it, and I took the opportunity to study him. All these different versions of Bishop – Regency Bishop, my Bishop from the future, and now this Bishop. But was he still my Bishop in this time?
The exterior door slammed downstairs, and Bishop let go of me guiltily. “We should probably get out of the hallway,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“That’s probably a good idea.” I stepped over the threshold, surprised when he didn’t follow me inside.
“Anja, I can’t...”
“Oh, right.” I’d completely forgotten he’d never been invited in before. “Please, come in, Detective Bishop,” I smiled, and he raised a brow as he came in and shut the door behind him.
“Detective?”
“Yes, don’t you remember? I told you I thought you were a cop when you first showed up here asking for my license and registration.”
“Oh right. Sorry, it’s been a long time since you told me that story.”
“I’m sorry. It was only a week and a half ago for me.”
He shook his head but didn’t say more, doing a quick lap of the room, and it made me smile to see that old habit. “Bridget’s not here?”
“No, she’s at work.”
“Does she...?”
“No, she doesn’t remember any of it.”
“I’m not surprised, her body didn’t disappear the way you did.”
I’d disappeared? How shiny was that? Just like in the movies. Just as quickly, I realized what that meant. “Then, she died in the circle?”
“She did,” he replied with a sober nod. “I took care of her body, buried her nearby.”
I wasn’t sure what to feel about that. Not when she was doing fine across town at the hospital like nothing had ever happened. It was still tragic that she’d suffered like that in any case.
“You said your name was Gudrun,” Bishop said, drawing me out of my thoughts.
“Huh?”
“You told me your name was Anja Gudrun.”
“Oh right, that’s the name I go by when I pretend to belong to Carys. You picked it out for me, actually. You never did tell me where it came from.”
“You never explained who your Sire is.” His expression darkened, his entire posture taking on a harder line. “You couldn’t really belong to Carys if you were only just turned tonight. What else did you lie about?”
“Nothing,” I squeaked when he got all growly. Why was he so prickly about it? “I wasn’t at liberty to reveal my Sire. Damn, I’m still talking like it’s 1817.” I took a breath, refusing to get caught up in his emotional storm. “It wasn’t my secret to tell and it could’ve ended up with a lot of people hurt if it was found out. I don’t plan on it ever getting out this time.”
“Then you won’t tell me.” His shoulders sank in defeat, and I started to grasp how important it was to him. Maybe it was because of the whole unlicensed turning, or maybe it was a jealousy thing, but I took pity on him.
“Of course I will, but you have to swear never to tell another soul. And that doesn’t mean you can tell soulless demons either.”
“Alright, I swear.”
“I mean it, Bishop. A lot of lives got screwed up the last time it came out.”
His face softened, his eyes losing that pinched look. “I promise, Anja. I’ll take it to my grave.”
“It’s Jakob.” He blinked at me, and I wasn’t sure if it was in understanding or disbelief. “As in the Ellri, as in I’m a draugar and he’s in hiding, so I can’t exactly claim him as my
pops. So in a way, I’m from Carys’ line...”
“But you’re not hers.”
“Nope.”
“And he turned you tonight. That’s why you were brought in to the hospital.”
“Yep.”
“I was wondering how you managed that when I saw the report from the morgue. I half thought Carys was still alive.” The sad little smile made me really think whether or not I should tell him she was lying in a crypt on Lodinn’s old estate in England. Would it give him some kind of closure to find out it wasn’t his fault she’d died? Or would it complicate things on an epic scale? In the end I chickened out, staying mum for the moment. She was just such a b.i.t.c.h., I didn’t want to deal with her mess all over again. Not yet, anyway.
“She’s not roaming the streets of San Francisco unless some other things have really changed since I visited the past.” For all I knew, Jakob had decided to man up and taken out Lodinn after my pep talks from 1817. Maybe I didn’t have to worry about him coming after me and mine this time around?
And then it hit me. “Wait… None of that stuff has happened yet. I came back now, not in 2017!”
“So?”
“So, don’t you see? This changes everything! I’m not the Elder, I never was. That means they’re all still alive! Lee, Gunnar, Marcus, Tommy, Sylvius. Rob is still alive and human. Well, sort of human.” There were no blood ties between us, no tragic love affair gone wrong, no problems with addiction. It was a clean slate.
“Sylvius dies?” Bishop drew me out of my reverie.
“Yes, Aubrey kills him in a bid for power.”
“What about Corley?”
“Oh, I had him and Angel banished for trying to assassinate me.”
“Angel? I see you left out a few parts about our future.” His lips pressed together in disapproval.
“We spent years together and apart. Did you really want me to tell you every bitty thing?” There were plenty of details I’d left out.
