by Lisa Olsen
A knock at the front door made me jump, and I hastily closed the piano back up, tiptoeing to the door. There wasn’t a peep hole set into the heavy duty metal door and I wondered if it would be safe for me to open it, or if I should pretend no one was home and wait for them to go away. Closing my eyes I extended my new senses to see if I could tell who it might be. Whoever stood at the front door was absolutely silent. That spelled vampire. It couldn’t be Bishop, he wouldn’t have knocked.
“Come on, I know you’re up, let me in!” A male voice called out, making me jump again.
“Just a minute, please,” I called out, not quite sure what the heck I was doing. Whoever it was, I would let them know Bishop wasn’t home and send them on their way. I couldn’t hide out forever, and it seemed as good a time as any to meet another vampire, especially one who obviously knew Bishop well enough to yell at him like that. Taking a deep breath, I ran my fingers through my tousled hair, hoping I didn’t look as bad as I had the night before. Calm and in control… you’re a visiting vampire and you’re calm and in control… I tried to reassure myself as I pulled the door open. “Yes?”
The vampire waiting out in the hallway was dressed in navy blue tactical garb, like I imagined a member of the SWAT team would wear. His pants had a zillion pockets in them and he was armed with two pistols strapped to his thighs. A shoulder holster sat plainly visible over a dark turtleneck and vest for anyone to see. I wasn’t sure if he was getting ready to respond to a riot or if he always dressed like that and didn’t give a damn who saw him in the get up. With medium brown hair and eyes and a closely manicured beard, he wasn’t unattractive, even if I had to crane my neck to get a good look at him. He was even taller than Bishop, and broadly muscled, but the grin on his face removed any initial fear I had at finding someone of his size standing outside the door.
“Well, hello there.” His grin expanded to show me a row of even white teeth. “And who might you be?”
Calm and in control… “I might ask you the same,” I asked in a voice I hardly recognized as my own.
“Fair enough,” he chuckled, not at all offended by my tone. “I’m Mason. I’m guessing Bishop isn’t expecting me tonight, huh?”
“He didn’t mention it to me, no.”
“Understandably distracted, I get it.” His hands spread out in front of him. “So, is he uh… indisposed then?” He looked past me, easily seeing over the top of my head.
“He stepped out for a bit. Are you with the Order too?” I asked, fishing a little. If the Order was supposed to be a secret, I didn’t know. Besides, Bishop had said he was with the Order the first time I talked to him, he hadn’t bothered to hide it.
“Yeah, we work together sometimes,” he nodded. “Bishop’s never mentioned me before then, huh?” He seemed almost forlorn that I didn’t know who he was, and I searched for a way to preserve his ego.
“We’ve had a lot of catching up to do. I showed up on his doorstep last night.” Not a lie… “He probably hasn’t gotten around to you yet.”
“Yeah, it was probably something like that. He didn’t tell me he was expecting any company either.”
“It was a last minute sort of thing. Bishop is…” I blanked for a moment, trying to think of how best to define our relationship, not wanting to give the impression in any way that he was my Sire. “…one of my oldest friends.” Also not a lie, he was the oldest person I knew.
“He’s a great guy. I’ve only known him for about twenty years, but he’s the shit, there’s no one better.”
That one I could attest to without embellishment. “He is a terrific guy,” I nodded, warming to him a little. So far so good on meeting vampires, though I had to expect most of them probably wouldn’t be as friendly. But seeing as how I was in the mood to make new friends… “I’m not really sure when he’ll be back, do you want to come in and wait for him for a while?”
“Yeah, I could do that for a bit.” When he passed by, I noticed the vest he wore looked like a bullet proof vest. Why would a vampire need that kind of protection? Bishop hadn’t worn one, but then again, he had been coming to see me, and I hardly posed a threat to him. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked.
I hadn’t, but the bitchy vampire role wasn’t my forte. “I’m Anja, nice to meet you.”
Mason took my hand when I offered it, dwarfing mine as he shook it. “You know, it’s strange he’s never mentioned you before.”
Uh oh… “Does he often talk to you about his past?” I hedged. So far Bishop had dodged a lot of the more personal questions I’d asked, so I assumed he was a secretive person by nature.
“Well… sometimes. I mean he’s a private dude for sure, but he has mentioned a time or two that he had a thing for blondes,” he grinned.
“Does he now…” I frowned, another vision of him snacking on a blonde in his living room flitting through my mind. Not that I had any reason to be jealous, I’d just met the man. Something must have shown on my face because Mason backpedalled like crazy.
“Hey, I’m not saying he’s had a parade of women in here of any hair color. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I saw him hook up with a Betty. I just meant he’s partial to blondes, except for when he’s feeding. But you’d know more about that than I would, I expect. You know Bishop, he’s the job and not a whole lot else. I have a hard enough time dragging him into the social scene even when it’s business. That’s why I was surprised to see you here. It’s nice to see him join the land of the living, so to speak.” He finished with another goofy grin, and I lost my annoyance over the blonde remark.
“So, was that what you boys had planned for tonight? You hardly look dressed for the social scene,” I said, gesturing to his vest.
“That depends on the scene.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “I like to be prepared,” he shrugged, giving a Velcro strap a little tug on the vest.
“You must have been a Boy Scout when you were a boy,” I muttered, but of course his ears picked it up.
“Eagle Scout, actually. Not all of us are as tough as your boyfriend. I’ll take all the help I can get.”
I opened my mouth to dispute that he wasn’t my boyfriend, but decided against it at the last second. What could it hurt? It might even come in handy someday, Bishop seemed to be well respected. “That sounds smart, given your profession,” I nodded instead.
“You never know when danger will strike,” he said almost prophetically, as his phone buzzed. Mason retrieved it from one of his many pockets and frowned over it for a couple of seconds. “Speaking of which, it was great meeting you, but I’ve gotta run.”
“Oh, okay. Is there a message you’d like me to pass along to Bishop when he gets here?” If he ever showed up…
“Yeah, tell him to meet up with me at The Bleeding Hart later if he wants to come out to play, I’m headed there now.”
“The bleeding heart? What’s that?” I mistook his words.
“He’ll know. Hell, maybe he’ll even bring you along.” He edged towards the door. “I hope to see you again, Anja. Will you be in town for long?”
I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested, or instinctively probing for more information. “I’ll be around.” I tried for my most mysterious smile.
“Catch you later then.” With a last wink, he slipped out, leaving me all alone again.
I knew I should leave.
Instead I curled up in his bed again, listening to the night sounds on the street below. I knew I didn’t belong in Bishop’s place, but something kept me from going home. Part of it was fear I might attack Bridget again or any other innocent bystander on the street who happened to need a Band-Aid along the way. And part of it was fear my Sire might make another move and I wouldn’t be strong enough to get away without Bishop to intervene. Given my frame of mind and everything I’d been through in the past twenty-four hours, I suppose it wasn’t surprising that I drifted off to sleep again.
* * *
I couldn’t move.
I heard low words with a prayer-like cadence in a language I couldn’t recognize, and I struggled to break free from my invisible bonds. Blue eyes appeared before me, arresting all of my senses. The eyes were tender and he touched the side of my face almost lovingly. This was him… it was my Sire, and he did look like a Viking, with long flaxen hair, pulled back into braids that framed his face.
“Logn,” he said, in a deep, soothing voice, and the fear that gripped me melted away as if by magic.
“I don’t know what you’re saying, but I don’t think you have the right person.” To my amazement, I was able to get the words out, and I saw his eyes crinkle in understanding. Whatever his language choice when he spoke, he obviously knew English as well. Though the fear had dissolved, that didn’t change the fact that I didn’t want to be his prisoner. “Please… let me go. You don’t have to do this, I won’t tell anyone who you are if you let me go. I don’t care if you’re an… Ella…” I couldn’t remember the word, “…Elder, I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”
“Tyna.” His brows drew together into a deep frown, eyes darkening as his fangs descended. My vision became blurry and indistinct, the light fading from the sky as he drew nearer. The sting of his teeth made me cry out in agony. This was nothing like the movies where the vampire bites and victim goes into a swoon, pleasure mingled with pain. I felt every tear of skin and muscle as he ravaged my neck, drinking deeply. On and on it went, until I felt myself start to drift, the light fading to near total darkness.
“Drekka.” He held his bleeding wrist to my lips but I turned away. “Drekka!” he thundered again. My mouth opened to scream, and I choked on the blood that filled it, feeling as if I was drowning, growing weaker and weaker. I was dying all over again, and this time… this time I would never open my eyes again.
Strong hands gripped my arms, holding me tightly and I struggled to break free from my captor.
“Anja! It’s just a dream,” Bishop’s voice came to me in the darkness, and I stilled, my throat raw from crying in my sleep. “Anja?” It was the note of concern in his voice that drew me out of the dark dream and back to the present.
I clung to him like a child, drawing in great shuddering gasps of unnecessary air. It wasn’t quite like waking from a nightmare like I’d had in my childhood. For one thing, the only person who ever comforted me after a bad dream was my sister Hanna, and she had never offered such a strong, calming presence. In Bishop’s arms I instantly felt safe, like there was no way my captor could reach me when he was there to protect me. But this dream also had the stain of truth to it, unlike my childhood dreams of giant spiders or mud people. Somewhere out there… was a real person who wanted me for his own twisted reasons, and that was enough to keep me from closing my eyes again for a long, long time.
Lastly, physiologically, my body’s response to the nightmare was different. Without a heart pounding, I felt… wrong. My breath came fast and shallow out of habit as I tried to reconcile the dream with where I was. “He was there, he took me…” I gulped.
“Who took you?” His voice was pitched low and intimate in the darkness, and I felt his hesitant touch on the back of my hair.
“I didn’t really see him clearly, or I did… but I can’t remember.” I struggled in vain to recall what he looked like, but all I could see were those blue eyes and the suggestion of blonde hair. Beyond that, he could have been in the room next to me and I might not have known him.
“Are you sure you don’t remember him? Think back, what happened?” he prompted.
“No… it’s all a blur… I couldn’t move… I could hear him though. He spoke in a language I didn’t recognize.”
“A foreign language, maybe something like… lat det sa har?”
“It’s hard to say, without you saying the same words, but that doesn’t sound quite right.”
“What about hadde det hores ut som dette?”
“Closer maybe, in the same family of languages.” Not having any idea what was said, I was at something of a disadvantage. “The last thing he said sounded like drekka.” I felt his body tense around me. “What does that mean?”
“Drink. It means drink in old Norse.”
Again with the Old Norse. Here I’d thought vampires came from Transylvania, but I was fast learning I couldn’t rely on books and movies to be accurate.
“I got you something,” Bishop said out of the blue, and I leaned back a little, curiosity replacing the fear that was fading fast.
“A present?” I brightened.
“Not exactly.” Reaching into his pocket, he produced a shiny new California Identification card.
I turned it over in my hands, studying the information next to my picture. “I don’t get it, I already have a driver’s license.” I’d never had a fake ID before. It seemed pointless since I was already over twenty one. I noticed the address listed wasn’t mine. Actually, upon closer inspection it looked like it was Bishop’s address. “Are you asking me to move in?”
“Ah no, I figured you wouldn’t want any stray vampires showing up on your doorstep, that’s all.”
“Oh, good idea.” I tried not to sound too disappointed, it would have been a little soon to think about moving in with the guy, no matter how drop dead gorgeous and capable he was. “Why does it say Anja Gudrun?
“I couldn’t use your real name if you’re supposed to be 400 years old, now could I? I decided to stick as close as possible to your regular identity to make it easier for you to remember.”
“Why Gudrun?” I couldn’t help but wonder if it had some special significance.
“You don’t like it?”
“No it’s fine, it’s great,” I assured him quickly. “Thanks for doing this for me, it didn’t even occur to me I might need something like this.”
“Okay, well… that officially ends my involvement in your welfare, you’re on your own now.” His hands came up in the exact same gesture I used to show my sister’s dog, Skittles, that I had no more treats.
On my own? There was so much I still didn’t know. “But I thought…” Hadn’t he listed his own address as mine? Talk about mixed messages.
“I have a dangerous life, Anja. I can’t be leading you around like a puppy on a leash. Trust me, it’s much safer for you if we go our separate ways.”
I didn’t see it that way at all. “But what if he comes back?” The dream still fresh in my memory, I couldn’t help but feel it held a mixture of memory at what had happened to me and a hint of what was yet to come.
“I’m giving you a chance to beat the system. If he shows up, tell him to get the requisite license if he hasn’t already. If he’s an Ellri… then I wish you many happy years together.” His words had a ring of finality to them.
“But what if he’s dangerous?”
Bishop laid his hands on my shoulders, looking me squarely in the eye. “You’ll be fine. You have to start thinking like a vampire now. You’re not the same girl who died a couple of days ago.”
“You could help me though, if I don’t want to go with him, couldn’t you?”
“Anja…” Bishop let out a long pent up breath, letting go of my shoulders. “I can’t, okay? I can’t get any more involved than I am now. This is it, this is where we part ways.”
“Alright,” I nodded, “but what if I…”
“You’ll be fine.”
The rejection hurt, and I wasn’t as convinced I’d be fin
e, but I wasn’t going to sit there and beg. “Alright, it’s good to know where I stand. I guess if I ever get into a serious jam I could try Mason, he might help me.” I stood and slipped my shoes on, brushing past him on my way to the living room.
“Wait…how do you even know who Mason is?”
I didn’t bother to wait, he wanted me gone, I was going to go. “Mason stopped by looking for you earlier. He was very friendly.”
“How friendly?” His eyes narrowed.
A tiny smile touched my lips at his response. “Mason didn’t seem at all eager to write me out of his life. In fact, I got the impression it was the opposite.” Okay, so maybe I was exaggerating how the conversation had gone a little. But I couldn’t resist the chance to see if Bishop even cared. Plus, I had the impression Mason might actually help me if I really needed it, as long as he believed I was who I said I was anyway.
“What did he say to you?”
“He said you should meet up with him at the bleeding heart, and that you might want to bring me along.”
“How long ago was that?” Bishop checked his watch, any concern he had over me talking to his buddy evaporating as duty called.
“I don’t know, not that long. Maybe an hour? What is that, the bleeding heart?”
“It’s a bar other vampires frequent,” he replied, strapping on his various knives and guns and replacing his motorcycle jacket.
“Can I come with you?” Bishop didn’t even bother to answer that, and I tried again. “Oh come on, I’ll be good. I should meet other vampires, don’t you think?”
“You’re supposed to be laying low, remember?”
“I’ll sit in the corner and watch. I won’t even drink. What do they drink in vampire bars anyway? Blood or alcohol? Or both?”
“Just go home, you have some big decisions ahead of you and drinking won’t make it any better.”
“Big decisions like what?”