by Lisa Olsen
“Calm yourself, älskling, all will be well. I take it he has not brought you to England with him?”
“No,” I sighed miserably, but my head came up as a flash of brilliance struck. “Could you fix this? You’re an Ellri, they’d have to let him come back if you asked them to.” It seemed like such a simple solution, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before.
“No, I can’t,” he said gently.
It was a selfish move anyway, and I wasn’t super surprised by his response. What guy would want to help out his replacement? “I’m sorry, I know it’s the last thing you want to do right now, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It has less to do with what I wish between us and more to do with other matters beyond your concern. I am not at liberty to step forth and declare myself at the moment.”
I’d forgotten about that. “I know. I’m sorry for asking, I’m just so… ugh, I hate this.”
“It pains me to hear you so distressed. Were I there, I would take you in my arms and offer what comfort I could.”
“I’ll bet,” I snorted, a mental image of his brand of comfort sneaking in while my defenses were down.
“Truly, I would.”
I was half surprised he hadn’t shown up at my door the moment he found out Bishop was gone. “Where are you?”
“As far removed a place as the world has to offer.”
I pictured him on a lonely mountaintop somewhere, holed up in a tiny shack. “I’m sorry to wake you up and bother you with my problems. I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now.”
“On the contrary, it does me good to hear your voice. I told you, you have only to call and I will come for you, at any time. Would you like me to come?”
There was naked longing in his voice, and I felt bad for bothering him so selfishly when he still had a thing for me, even if it was a misguided thing. “No, thank you, Jakob. I think it’s probably for the best if we keep to the original agreement and you give me some space right now.” Mostly because I knew his kind of comfort would do things to my emotions that were already a mess.
“Come on, Jakey, I want to go to the beach.” A woman’s petulant voice reached my ears through the phone and I froze. He wasn’t alone. And he for darn sure wasn’t on a lonely mountaintop.
“I should go,” I mumbled, not sure if what I felt was because of my jumble of emotions or the late hour.
“Petal…”
“No, I’m sorry to have bothered you. I had no right to draw you into my personal junk. Go and have a good time, Jakob. You deserve to be happy.”
“Such a contradiction,” he sighed. “Very well, I shall go and seek my own form of comfort. Sleep well, beloved.”
Such a contradiction indeed.
Chapter Four
I woke up later than usual, probably because I’d gone to bed so late, but considering I didn’t have anywhere to be, it wasn’t that big of a deal. It was weird to have nothing to do after working so hard on my academic career since birth, and I spent an hour researching online schools, trying to get things back on track. I’d narrowed it down to two, but I wanted to wait to talk to Bishop first before I enrolled since he’d be the one footing the bill until I got a job. Something else I should probably get rolling on.
The more I thought about it, the more I decided it was a good idea to get out there and stop crying into my cocoa over things completely out of my control. There hadn’t been a chance to talk to Mason about it before things got so out of hand the night before, and now I decided to skip him over as a career counselor. I couldn’t reach my sister to talk to her about it either. In a stroke of luck, Bridget wasn’t working until midnight and she agreed to meet me for drinks at the Bleeding Hart.
I know what you’re thinking. Why would I take her to the Hart when I wanted to avoid Mason and the Order? Especially since that was their favorite hangout and I’d vowed to keep her safe from the vampire community in general. But it was her idea to meet there, and I got the impression she had an agenda of her own. Besides, I was fairly confident in my ability to protect her. Everyone one there knew who I was and that she was my human from my public confrontation with Serena. Everyone also seemed to know I was the reason behind Serena’s disappearance, but considering they thought I’d killed Kursik as well, it just added another notch to my belt as a badass vampire.
I got there first though, just to be on the safe side, declining the offer to join the owners, Jarrod and Leander, at their corner table. Instead, I took a seat at the long, mahogany bar, angling so I had a good look at the door and the leather booths. Charisse the waitress wove her way through the little round tables and flashed me a friendly wave when she caught sight of me.
I accepted a drink from the relief bartender, Zoe (rhymes with ho, but I’d never say that to her face), a lean woman with a surly cast to her lips and short words to match. She’d never been a favorite of mine, and I always preferred it when Scotty was on duty… not that it would ever happen again.
Zoe had cultivated the sulky pout to perfection, which was a shame. She might have been really beautiful, with her deep, cocoa skin and startlingly blue eyes, if she was ever able to keep a civil word on her tongue. Zoe embraced the militaristic/refugee look, complete with heavy combat boots that positively itched to stomp all over someone’s face at the wrong word. I had no idea what Jarrod and Leander were thinking when they hired her. It wasn’t the type of friendly service I’d want in a bartender.
Still, while she wasn’t friendly, she’d never given me any guff, and brought over my drink with nothing more than a grunt in acknowledgement of my thanks. Luckily, I didn’t have to worry about another impromptu session of Ask Anja from the other vamps in the bar as Bridget blew in from the cold, her eyes sweeping the room expectantly. I gave her a wave, more than a little confused when she ignored me to complete her scan of the room.
Bridget was everything I wasn’t, bold and sassy where I tended to be timid and soft spoken. Her dark hair spilled loose over her shoulders, thick and untamed. Her face was painted in an equally wild manner, with bright magenta eye shadow and lips to match. Her ripe figure strained at the confines of her tight skirt and leather bodice, showing more skin than I would have been comfortable doing, even with my resistance to the cold.
“Damn it, this place sucks,” she huffed, plopping down in the seat next to me.
“I’m sorry, you did pick it though,” I reminded her. “We can go somewhere else if you want.
“No, it’s early. It might pick up later,” she replied with a glance to the door. “What are we drinking?”
“I’ve got my usual zombie, but lady’s choice. Drinks are on me as usual.” It was easy to be generous; I hadn’t paid for a drink in the place since my rep first solidified over Kursik’s death.
“Sweet. Barkeep, keep the boilermakers coming!” She thumped the bar with the flat of her hand, unconcerned with the scowl that earned her from Zoe.
“I thought you had to work at midnight?”
“Naw, I traded shifts when I got your call. Who knows when I’ll get to see you again.” There was a playful lilt to her words, but I knew deep down she worried we wouldn’t see each other much since I’d moved out of our apartment. It was true, I’d seen her less, but I was committed to keeping in touch with my best friend.
“I’m glad then, I’ve missed hanging out with you,” I admitted. “Things have been pretty lonely around the apartment since Bishop left for England.”
“Thems the breaks, kid. That’s what you get for moving out.” She accepted the drinks, downing the whiskey in one shot. “So, you’re bummed about Bishop leaving on a jet plane?”
“Yep,” I sighed, shoulders slumping perceptibly before I reminded myself I didn’t want to mope, especially not in public. “But hopefully he’ll be home in a few weeks for good.”
“A few weeks, that’s gotta suck. You should think about… um…” Her words fell away as the door opened and Rob sauntered in. Dressed as usual i
n a pair of blue jeans and a navy t-shirt stretched tight across his muscular form, the five o’clock shadow on his jaw boasted more stubble than his closely shorn scalp. Taking in the scene with a single glance, he retreated to a corner table and held up a finger for a beer.
I hadn’t spoken to him since the night I ordered him to leave me alone after finding out he’d been babysitting me for Jakob, but as far as I knew he was still dating Bridget. Then again…
“Yeah, you better look away,” she muttered, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as Rob’s gaze lingered in our direction before finding the cocktail napkin in front of him suddenly fascinating.
“What’s going on with you two?” I could guess, but I hadn’t told her anything about Rob’s interest in her being so closely linked to his job of watching over me. He’d as much as admitted to having little to no interest in Bridget, and I figured he must have ended things once I moved out of her apartment.
“I’m trying to decide what method of revenge is the most appropriate. Showing him I don’t give a damn that he blew me off, or taking a machete to his short and curlies. So far, it’s a toss up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why, it’s not your fault,” she shrugged, drowning her sorrows in the bottom of the beer glass.
“Actually, it might be my fault. I sort of got into an argument with him and told him to stay away from me. Maybe he figured that translated to you too?” Not all of the truth, but hopefully it’d soothe her ego a bit.
“Whatever, I don’t need him and his hands.”
“His hands?” My brows rose at that, unable to keep from darting a look at Rob but she changed the subject.
“You want to come and hang out at my place? The new couch came the other day. Thanks for springing for the recliner too.”
“Um, sure… we can do that. I’m glad you like them, do they fit alright in the space?”
“Yeah, there’s enough room. I had a bitch of a time getting them into the apartment though.”
“Oh?”
“Once the moving guys figured out I wasn’t inviting them in, they left the stuff out in the hallway and bailed.
“Why didn’t you… oh, for the love of… You still can’t invite people in, can you?” I’d totally forgotten about Bishop compelling Bridget not to let anyone into the apartment with out my permission. Somehow I’d assumed he would remove it once I moved out, but apparently not.
“Nope. Does interesting things to my social life, I have to say. Mr. Ramirez from across the hall got an eyeful the other night,” she smirked, attacking the fresh drink set in front of her with gusto.
“I’m so sorry, I’ll take care of this, I promise.” Pulling out my phone, I tried calling Bishop, but it went straight to voicemail without ringing. I sent him a text, asking him to call me about removing Bridget’s compulsion as soon as possible. “I wonder if he can remove something like that over the phone or if you’ll have to wait for him to get back?”
“As long as it gets gone I don’t care how he does it.” Her eyes flicked to Rob again and she drained the rest of her beer, burping behind her hand. “I do not remember eating that,” she muttered. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure.” Tucking away my phone, I left a tip on the bar, hoping that earned me some kind of brownie points with Zoe. It was the right thing to do in any case. I had wheels for once with Bishop out of town, saving us from walking home in the cold. But as we neared the SUV, I spotted Rob leaning against his dark sedan.
“Can I offer you ladies a ride?” His voice was low and gravelly, with the lilt of an English accent roughened by the streets.
“Drop dead,” Bridget smiled sweetly, before turning her back on him.
“No, thank you,” I replied with a touch more civility, but only barely. I still held a monster sized grudge for him lying to me about his reasons for befriending me. “As you can see, I’ve got it covered.” I gestured to Bishop’s car.
“I heard your boy’s out of town for a piece.”
“From Jakob, no doubt?” I could tell from the flush that stole up the side of his neck that I’d hit the nail right on the head. No wonder he’d started keeping tabs on me again.
“He’s worried about your safety, as am I.”
I didn’t want to have a conversation with him about Jakob in front of Bridget, I didn’t want her feelings getting hurt. “Bridget, why don’t you go wait in the car where it’s warm? But don’t drive, you’ve been drinking.”
“Okay, okay, geez.” She snatched the keys from my fingers. “I promise I’ll be good, Mom.”
I waited for the sound of the car turning on, and the inevitable change of the radio station from classical to classic rock before I turned back to Rob. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” My chin came up with a challenging jut, willing him to remember that everyone else in town thought I was a centuries old vampire — one that didn’t need any protection and you never knew who might be listening.
“Can’t fault a guy for worrying, yeah?” He gave a rare half smile and I almost believed him.
“Well, you don’t have to worry. But in case you’re intent on following, we’re headed back to Bridget’s. Will you be? Following?”
His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. “Anja…”
Apparently Jakob hadn’t wasted any time in putting him back on Anja-watch again. “Save the explanations. I’ll text you my itinerary then, will that be satisfactory?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s the least I can do for an employee. After all, you won’t be privy to all the details of my schedule since you’re not sleeping with my best friend anymore, will you?”
Rob’s jaw worked, but all he said was, “Thank you, miss.” Turning on his heel, he walked away, stopping at a street light about twenty feet away. He took off his jacket and laid it over his arm, leaning against the light post, making no bones about watching me.
I almost felt like calling him back, the confrontation not sitting well with me. I never said things like that out loud (thought them, sure, but never out loud), and I felt crummy for making him feel bad, even if I thought he deserved it on some level. Pressing my eyes shut until the urge to chase after him passed, I settled for breathing a soft “I’m sorry” before I opened my eyes again. Rob was still there, still watching, until I got into my car and he loped with easy grace to his car, the better to keep on my tail.
“Whatever you said to him, I wished I’d said it first,” Bridget smirked when I started the engine.
“Me too,” I smiled sadly.
*
After three more tries, I finally got through to Bishop to talk to him about releasing Bridget from the compulsion. Unfortunately, all I got out of him was a hurried, “I’ll call you later about it.”
“There has to be a way around this,” I thought aloud, enjoying the new recliner at Bridget’s insistence. Only I wasn’t sure who to ask about it. I couldn’t ask Mason or Rob, Bishop was clearly busy with other stuff, and I sure as heck wasn’t going to bother Jakob again.
“Why don’t you try it?” she suggested around a mouthful of easy cheese and Wheat Thins. “You’re supposed to be this tough vampire, right? Can’t you give me the eye and make it go away?”
“I don’t think it’s that simple. Bishop tried breaking Serena’s compulsion on you and he blew it. What chance do I have?”
“Yeah, but it’s about the connection, right? Isn’t that what you said before? Bishop isn’t anything to me, and you have had my blood before.”
“You may have a point there.” Hers was the first blood I’d ever tasted, the blood responsible for my joining the ranks of the undead instead of winding up in the morgue again. “But I also promised myself I’d never drink your blood again.”
“What if I give you my permission?”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” People didn’t invite vampires to take a sample, not without a death wish.
“Anja, I really want to get
this thing out of my head. You have no idea what it’s like, being forced to do things like a puppet. It blows.”
How could I say no to that? I still felt the need to offer additional warning though. “There’s a chance that I won’t be able to stop with one taste.”
“I trust you.”
“You have no reason to.” Even though my memories of that night were hazy, I still remembered the sharp hunger and not caring who she was or what she meant to me; all of that paled in comparison to the thirst. Still, it was worth a shot if it gave her a chance at a regular life again without Bishop’s compulsion. “Alright, we’ll try it. Are you ready?”
“Give me a sec.” Bridget chugged a half a can of Diet Coke and wiped her lips. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Feeling somewhat hesitant with the process, I brought my lips to my wrist, fangs descending to pierce my own skin with a wince. “Hurry up and drink before it closes up again.” I thrust my wrist out at her. Bridget made a face, but did as I asked without my having to compel her, her own motivation enough to make her comply.
I didn’t think I’d feel anything when she first fastened her mouth over the wound, but the first time she drew against my flesh, I felt a wave of pleasure, my breath leaving me in a soft rush. It wasn’t the keen rapture I felt with Bishop when we, um… did stuff, but it felt very, very good and it was hard to keep focus on what we were supposed to be doing.
“That’s enough,” I breathed, wrenching my wrist away when I caught myself wanting to grab hold of her waist to pull her closer.
“You okay?” Bridget cocked a brow in amusement.
“Yes, just give me a minute.” I had to get a hold of myself before I drank her blood or I might lose my tenuous self control.
“You want a cigarette or something?”
“It wasn’t that good,” I scowled, feeling my cheeks flame because in a way, she was right. I’d never thought of women that way before, but it could have very easily segued into something else if I’d let it. After a few deep breaths I felt more in control, ready to take some of her blood.
