Know Me When the Sun Goes Down

by Olsen, Lisa

  “Okay, thanks. But don’t feel slighted if I don’t come to visit. I’ve got my hands full trying to convince Bishop that he can trust me so I can warn him about the future, and I only have a couple of weeks left here before I have to get back to my time.”

  “More the fool is he if he does not believe someone of your great beauty.”

  “There are plenty of pretty people who lie.” They’d made a whole TV show about it.

  “I spoke of your inner beauty, älskling,” he smiled, snatching up my hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “One has only to spend a few moments in your presence to know you are pure of intent. Be well, my Anja. And if I should not see you again here, I shall count the days until we meet in the future.” With a last smoldering look, he disappeared into the maze.

  My Sire – infuriating, yes, but damn if he wasn’t charming when he wanted to be.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I didn’t see Bishop again that night until nearly dawn, and then there was barely time for more than a few kisses and promises to spend some time the next night together.

  Now, I knew in Bishop-speak that good intentions did not exactly translate into spending more time together, especially when the Order came calling. So I was pleasantly surprised when his knock came shortly after sunset. Bridget was still passed out on the bed, so I opened the door myself, wearing my nightdress and wrapper.

  Bishop’s ready smile turned to astonishment, his eyes raking over me as if he’d never seen a woman in her dressing gown before. They lingered over my curves from where the belt knotted tightly over my waist, and the way my hair spilled loose over my shoulders. And then he cleared his throat. “Oh, I’ve disturbed you. Forgive me, I’ll return when you’ve had a chance to...”

  “It’s fine, Bishop,” I smiled, laying a hand on his arm before he pulled a retreat. “Come on in. I’ve just poured out some tea, would you like a cup?”

  “No, I’m fine, thank you,” he said stiffly.

  “Is something the matter?” I looked down at my clothes, smoothing the fabric over my middle. “Everything’s covered up, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s... I’ve never seen you with your hair down before,” he said, hands clenching into fists as though he wanted to reach out and touch it.

  “Is that all? I happen to know that you’ve seen many women with their hair down before,” I pointed out with a faint smile.

  “None with your ethereal beauty.”

  Where had that come from? My Bishop wasn’t particularly given to overblown compliments, and this one seemed an odd mixture of the hard bitten vampire cop I’d come to love with some of those courtly behaviors still intact. “You say the sweetest things,” I sighed, needing a sip of tea before I threw myself into his arms and really embarrassed us both.

  “I know it’s untoward, my coming to your bedchamber without an invitation.”

  “Oh, you can consider yourself invited to my bedroom anytime. I mean you can stop by to visit at any time, not as in I’m inviting you to my bed,” I said quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. Then again, who was I kidding? I wanted that and more from him. But I wasn’t supposed to know him, and I didn’t want him thinking I invited guys I’d barely kissed into my bed on the regular either. “Was there, um... some reason in particular you stopped by, or just wanted to visit?”

  Bishop’s smile grew in direct proportion to the heat that rose in my cheeks. “I had some time before I’m due for patrol, and I thought I might ask a boon of you. Though it is a bit... unusual of a request.”

  “Oh? Well then, request away,” I smiled, wondering what he might possibly come up with.

  “From the first moment we met, you intrigued me. But never as much as when we met in combat.”

  Understanding dawned. “You want me to teach you how to fight?”

  “I already know how to fight. But I admit, I have never seen such tactics. Where did you learn them?”

  Oh, how I wanted to spill that I’d learned quite a few from Bishop himself! Instead, I hedged. “I’ve picked them up here and there over the years. One can never be too careful as a lady traveling alone.”

  “Surely not always alone.”

  “I’ve had Bridget with me for a while. And I wasn’t always alone.”

  “Yes,” he nodded, gaze flicking to the ring on my finger. “And your lost love, he allowed you to learn such tactics?”

  “Allowed? Heck, he taught me half of them,” I laughed. “And yes, he wanted me to be strong. He learned how to support me, instead of telling me what to do all the time.” Not that we’d started out that way, but Bishop had become my strongest supporter. Even more than Rob, in the end. Sadness leeched into my smile. “Maybe he knew there would come a day when he wouldn’t be there to protect me anymore.”

  “I’m sorry to have brought up such melancholy memories.”

  “It’s fine,” I assured him. “As much as it hurts to think of him, it also feels good to have someone to talk to about it as well. Unless... does it bother you to hear about him?”

  “No. Yes...” he hesitated, brow furrowing as he puzzled his way through it. “It does not trouble me to think of you with another. I would hardly expect a woman like yourself to have never experienced love. It does trouble me that it pains you to think of him. It pains me to think that I should... that I should leave off from pursuing you if your heart has not healed the breach of his passing. I would not take advantage of you for anything in the world, and I have learned patience.”

  Could he get any sweeter? “Bishop, I promise, you are absolutely not taking advantage of me. You go ahead and pursue away. If anything, I feel like I’ve been pushing you into something you’re not ready for.”

  “Perhaps I needed it.” His gaze held mine for long moments, both of us lost in each other’s eyes until I realized he’d come to ask me to help him out, not tear his clothes off and make him mine.

  “So... you wanted to learn how to do some of those fancy moves, huh?” I said, dumping a mental bucket of water on my racier thoughts. “I think I can manage that. But I should probably go change first.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll wait outside.”

  “No, you don’t have to wait in the hall. You can wait here in the sitting room while I go get dressed.”

  “That wouldn’t be proper.”

  “Then I’ll meet you down in the training room in a few minutes, you don’t have to wait in the hallway.”

  “Very good,” he said with a short bow. “I’ll see you soon.” His expression softened, and his fingers sifted through a lock of my hair. “Your hair is like spun sunlight. It suits you.”

  “Maybe I’ll leave it down then.”

  “Oh, you’d better not.”

  “You’re right, it gives you an advantage in battle,” I realized with a grim smile.

  “Quite the contrary, madam. It gives you all the advantage, for I would be far too distracted by your beauty to defend myself.” And with a final bow, he departed, leaving me to swoon over this romantic side of him that I’d never known he had in the olden days. Sure, my Bishop did lovable things for me, but it was like he’d been so out of practice, he had to work at it. This Bishop seemed to have a sweeter side lurking just under the surface, you only had to tap into it.

  I didn’t even think about eating before I went down to the training room. Thanks to Jakob’s blood, I wasn’t the least bit hungry. I left Bridget a brief note telling her where I’d gone and left after getting ready. This time I didn’t change into the breeches and men’s shirt, I figured I’d show him a few holds and demonstrate a few moves, but we weren’t about to grapple. Then again, you never knew where the night would take you, and I remained hopeful.

  There was no audience when I got to the training room. Instead Bishop was alone, in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, poking at the figure of a dummy with a short wooden sword repeatedly in the head. “Jeez, what’d that guy ever do to you,” I called out, and he saluted me with the swor
d and set it aside.

  “Practice makes perfect,” he replied, meeting me in the center of the room.

  “Well then, we’d better get to it. What do you want to start with? I’m guessing you already know the most vulnerable parts of a man.”

  “Indeed. One harsh word from your tongue is enough to deliver a fatal wound,” he quipped, hand covering his heart.

  “I’ll have to be gentle with my tongue then, for today at least,” I smiled back, circling around him. “But who knows what tomorrow may bring.”

  “Tomorrow may be an interesting night.” Bishop chuckled, the sound like silk over my skin.

  “How about we start with a few basic holds? I’ll show you how to do them, and then how to get out of them.”

  “Holds?” The term was unfamiliar to him.

  “Yes, something like this.” I grabbed his wrist and turned it, forcing his hand down at a painful angle, driving him to his knees.

  “Remarkable,” he winced, studying the position of our hands. “There is a way out of this?”

  “There is always a way out. Even if it’s to break your own wrist. Sometimes you have to learn to push through the pain to break free. But that’s not today’s lesson. Today we’ll focus on knowing your angles. How to pivot your body to evade a hold like this in the first place, or how to wriggle out of it.”

  For the next hour, we practiced holding onto each other’s hands and arms. Bishop was a quick study, and his speed constantly surprised me, making me think he’d been holding back on the previous occasions we had to spar. Or maybe I was distracted by his close proximity? I had to admit, when he had me pinned down on my knees, his body pressed close, the last thing I wanted to do was break away.

  At first I thought that’s what it was. When he bested me the first time, I took it as a sign of his natural ability. The second, I credited him as a fast learner. But the third time, I realized... my strength wasn’t what it should’ve been. A hold I should’ve been able to break out of left me straining and out of breath, so that Bishop released me, worry etching his features.

  “Are you unwell?”

  “I just need to catch my breath.”

  He guided me to a low bench, producing a handkerchief and pressing it to my brow. “I don’t understand. You are stronger than I... I’ve felt it before.”

  “Yes, well, we all have off days. I just need to eat.”

  “I’ll send up for someone.”

  “No, I’ll be alright,” I said quickly, touched by his concern. “Maybe we could go hunting together in town?”

  Bishop scratched at his upper lip, a gesture I’d noticed he often did when stalling for a few seconds to make up his mind about something. “I have to patrol.”

  “Then take me with you.”

  “That would not be proper,” he frowned. “I would not be able to protect you while on Order business.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Ordinarily I would believe you, but in this state...”

  “Hey, I just need to eat. I’ll be good as new afterwards.”

  He let out a long breath, mouth opening and closing without saying anything. When he spoke, his voice was softer, more tender. “I could... that is, you’re welcome to my blood if that’s what you need to restore you.”

  Oh, how I wanted to take him up on that offer! Especially when he looked at me like that, as if he wanted it as badly as I did. “I think that’s probably a bad idea if either one of us wants to leave the house tonight, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” He swallowed, cheeks flushing. “Yes, well, perhaps you are right at that.” Bishop cleared his throat, drawing himself up and offering me his arm. “Shall we go into London then?”

  “Yes, let’s.”

  It wasn’t hard to secure a carriage, and soon we were on our way into town. Bishop kept to his side of the bench seat though, tucking a sheepskin blanket across my lap even though I didn’t feel the cold. We chatted about normal things, getting to know each other better. I told him more about my sister, and how I’d been encouraged to pursue a career in music before I’d been turned. To my surprise, he opened up about his own family’s musical past. Not so much about the whoring, but his mother’s singing, and how he accompanied her across Europe.

  It was... nice. Sort of like a first date, but when you both know you’d like nothing more than to rip off each other’s clothes and set the carriage to rocking in a way that had nothing to do with the muddy roads. It was intimate in there with him, the only light from the moon above making it seem like we were the only two people in the world. By the time the city lights came into view, I breathed a sigh of relief, because I was a thimble away from tossing off that sheepskin and hopping onto his lap to take him up on that offer of blood.

  The carriage didn’t stop when we reached the city, continuing on like we had a specific destination in mind. “Where are we going?” I finally asked.

  “Given your lack of predatory games, I thought I’d take you somewhere you might enjoy.” That was all he’d say until we reached a large but unassuming building.

  “Okay... we’re going... I’ve got nothing.” I couldn’t guess what kind of a place it was, though there were some very fancy carriages pulling up in front of it.

  “Then you haven’t been to Almack’s before?”

  My jaw dropped in surprise, and it was a few moments before I recovered the power of speech. “Shut the front door... we’re really at Almack’s?”

  “Indeed we are, but the door is open to us,” he replied in confusion.

  Almack’s Assembly Rooms. Could you die? “Can we really get in without a voucher?”

  “Of course.” Bounding out of the carriage, he held his hand to assist me out, and I started to think I would’ve dressed in something fancier if I’d known we were going to such a shindig. Everyone who was everyone was seen at Almack’s, and it could make or break a girl’s season. Sure, the pink muslin dress I wore was pretty enough, and very finely made, but it wouldn’t hold a candle to the fancy silks inside.

  If Bishop thought our appearance lacking, he made no mention of it, escorting me to the door with his head held high.

  “Ah, Mr. Bishop, a pleasure to see you again,” the doorman greeted us, not batting an eye as Bishop swept by, ignoring him. I offered him an apologetic smile over my shoulder, but the doorman didn’t look insulted. This was one instance where Bishop’s snooty side fit right in.

  “You come here often then?” I asked as we pushed through the crowd that milled by the door.

  “When the mood strikes.”

  “I thought you didn’t enjoy dancing.”

  “I don’t. But there are other delights to be had here. It makes it a perfect hunting ground for our kind. On the occasion that I do attend the assembly rooms, it is on Order business.”

  “Ah, I see,” I nodded, too busy gawking to keep up the conversation. Holy moley, was it fancy in there. The ballroom had to be at least a hundred feet long, the columns and pilasters gilded shiny gold. The place was fitted with gaslights, which reflected in a series of huge mirrors, lighting the room far better than the hall at Vetis. There was a balcony at one end that held the small orchestra, and a raised dais where the grand poobahs of the ton looked on at the rest of us.

  A waltz struck up, and I looked to Bishop expectantly, but he was too busy surveilling the room like the Terminator. “I think they’re playing our song,” I prompted, and he gave me a pained look.

  “I don’t... I did not bring you here to dance.”

  “Then why did you bring me here?” I frowned, trying not to pout, but missing the more lighthearted Bishop.

  “I brought you here to hunt. Simply make your selection and adjourn to one of the more private alcoves. I shall await you here.” He didn’t look too happy about it, and I wasn’t all that thrilled either, but I did need to eat.

  “Alright,” I agreed, detaching myself from his arm.

  I didn’t really want to hunt. I didn’t feel like shar
ing anything so intimate with any of the men in the room with him looking on. In the end, I simply went to the ladies’ retiring room and struck up a conversation with a healthy looking matron. It was easy to get her alone and slake my thirst, sending her a gentle compulsion to plead a headache and go home for the night. But by the time I returned to Bishop in the ballroom, my place at his side had been poached by someone else.

  She was exquisite. Sloe-eyed with dark lustrous hair swept up into an elaborate crown of braids topped with an arrangement of blood red feathers. Her dress was of red silk trimmed in gold, the deep jewel tone making her stand out in a sea of virginal white dresses. Rubies and diamonds fought for dominance in the heavy necklace she wore, an enormous ruby dripping into her décolletage. Snow White would’ve been jealous of her complexion. Full lips curved into a knowing smile as she responded to something Bishop said that amused her, her hand landing familiarly on his arm.

  I hated her on sight.

  I thought about wrapping my arm around his and staking my claim, but instead I settled for the more cautious approach, wanting to read Bishop’s reaction when he saw me. “Hello. Who’s your friend?”

  While Bishop didn’t seem the least bit uneasy at my arrival, the woman looked at me like something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “Yes, do introduce us, Mr. Bishop,” she said in a rich voice. “I admit, we were all in astonishment to see you arrive with a lady on your arm.”

  “Yes, of course,” Bishop replied, all charm and manners. “Lady St. Edmunds, this is Miss Anja Gudrun, lately of America. Anja, this is Lady St. Edmunds, Viscountess of Granville.”

  “Lovely to meet you,” I said with my best Regency bob.

  Lady St. Edmunds barely dipped her head. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

  Bishop didn’t seem to notice the slight, his attention caught elsewhere. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I need to talk to. Anja, you’ll be well here?” He spared me a quick glance.

  “Sure, go ahead. I can take care of myself.”

  His answering smile warmed my heart, but as he left, it faded under Lady St. Edmunds’ frosty glare.