by Olsen, Lisa
“Wherever did you get your gown?” she asked with saccharine sweetness. “How clever of you not to be a slave to fashion. Is that all the rage in the colonies?”
I could’ve gone a couple of rounds with her. I’d been looked down on by women far more beautiful and powerful than her. In the end, I decided it wasn’t worth the effort to get my claws out. “Are you always this catty or only with me?” I asked in a polite tone.
“Well, I never,” she sniffed.
“That’s alright, sweetie, maybe someday you will,” I replied with a faint smile, my gaze drifting to where Bishop was across the room, speaking to someone with quiet intensity.
Her tone defrosted fast, her smile turning smug. “Oh, I already have, I can assure you.” The meaning was perfectly clear.
“Is that a fact?”
“Oh yes. Mr. Bishop and I are... intimate friends, if you take my meaning,” she confided, her voice dropping. “Does that shock you?”
I wasn’t happy about it, but it made sense Bishop would have a regular feeder or two in town. Those things usually turned intimate, it was the way of the vampire world. “Lady, I seriously doubt there’s anything you could say that would shock me. But I’m betting I could turn your hair white in a heartbeat.” I gave her an unpleasant stare.
“Are you threatening me? Really, I should have you thrown out of here.” She snapped open her fan, using the movement to put some space between us.
“Why would you do that? We’re bosom friends, aren’t we?” I smiled, catching hold of her will with mine. It was stupidly easy, she didn’t have the best willpower.
“Bosom friends,” she repeated, her tone wooden.
“Actually, I don’t think we are.” I changed my mind. Who wanted to be friends with her? “And it’s not good for you to lie. I think you should only tell the truth from now on. Understand?”
“The truth...”
“Have you been intimate with Bishop?”
“Oh yes, he has the most amazing stamina. He...”
“That’s enough, I don’t want to hear it,” I cut her off. “But your husband might like to hear that tale. How about you go have a chat with him about which one of your lovers is the most pleasing?”
“Most pleasing,” she murmured, blinking as I let her go. “I must find my husband...”
Cool beans, I’d only been guessing she was married. “Don’t let me hold you up. I’d say it was nice to have met you, but it really hasn’t been.”
“It wasn’t nice to have met you either,” she replied without skipping a beat. “I can’t think of why Mr. Bishop should show an interest in your underbred lack of finery.”
With great restraint, I let her leave without pulling out a single strand of that sable hair, but I wasn’t in the best mood by the time Bishop came back to my side. Not even watching the dancers was a good enough distraction. All I could do was picture Bishop neck deep in Lady Snootypants, and it killed the ambiance for me.
“I’m ready to leave now,” I said, turning on my heel as soon as he approached, leaving him slack jawed for half a beat before he followed me outside.
“What is the matter?” he asked as we stepped out into the cool night air.
I didn’t make for the carriage, I needed to walk off some of the steam coming out of my ears. “Nothing. I just don’t really feel like hanging out with your mistress, that’s all.”
“My...” Bishop followed after me, catching hold of my arm to stop me. “She’s nothing to me.”
“But you’re clearly something to her,” I replied, shaking my arm free and continuing down the street. Inside, I imagined Lady St. Edmunds going on and on about her various lovers to her husband, and him throttling her with his bare hands. The thought did give me a happy inside. I was imagining all sorts of unpleasant ways for her evening to end when Bishop caught up to me again.
“Are you jealous?”
That got me to stop. “Duh, was that not obvious?”
His brows drew together into a scowl. “You can hardly fault me for my actions before we met.”
“I know, I just… I keep forgetting we’ve never met before.” At his quizzical look, I started to wonder – maybe it was time to come clean and tell him everything? I had to do it sometime.
Chapter Nineteen
In for a penny, in for a pound. I took hold of his hands, looking deep into his eyes. “Bishop, being with you these past couple of weeks, it’s... it’s meant so much to me.”
He smiled warmly in response. “It’s been the same for me as well. As if a breath of fresh air has blown through town. You are as no other I have met before.”
“You’re one of a kind too, Bishop. But... see, there’s a reason why we’re so good together.”
“Because we share the same Sire?”
“No, not exactly. I mean, otherwise I’d be a good fit with Aubrey too, and we both know how cuckoo that idea that is.”
“Cuckoo?” He blinked in confusion, and I hurried to explain.
“Crazy insane. What I’m trying to say is, some people are soulmates.”
“Yes, that’s exactly how I feel as well.” His smile deepened, thumbs brushing across my fingers. “I feel as if our souls have touched.”
I smiled back, so glad he felt it too. I was counting on that feeling to carry us through what came next. “And when you’ve met your soulmate, nothing can keep you apart. Not even death.”
“I don’t understand.” His smile clouded. “Do you mean that you yearn to be with your lost love in the afterlife? I had hoped that you’d found something worth living for.”
“No, don’t you get it? You’re my lost love. You are. You’re the one I fell in love with, and you’re the one I lost, and you’re the one I’ve given up everything for to come back in time and try and save you from dying in the first place, and I know that sounds completely kazoo, but I don’t know how else to tell you this.”
His head tilted to one side, brows twitching closer together. “What is kazoo?”
“Is that seriously all you got out of that?” I exploded, practically hopping in place, and his hands covered mine more completely.
“You are upset. Perhaps you should return to the house and rest?”
I pulled my hands free, unable to take his trying to cool me. “No, I’m not sick. I’m completely sane, contrary to what I sound like. Bishop – we met and fell in love almost two hundred years in the future. You died, on a boat, for no good reason other than you went into a fire to try and save my family, and I couldn’t deal with losing you. So, I found an obliging gypsy and he did this ritual, and here I am.”
“Even if such a thing were possible…”
“It is, I swear to Joss and all things holy it is,” I insisted, talking fast because I had to get through the walls he’d already started to put up. “Why else do I know so much about you? We’ve spent years together, Bishop, you and me. That’s how I know about your sister Adriana, and what you did to the guy that hurt her.”
“You said you learned of this from Carys.”
I winced at how it sounded. “I know, I hated lying to you, but I couldn’t come right out and tell you I was from the future, could I? Think about it, Bishop. How do I know how much you loved and hated Carys at the same time? Do you think she really thought you were anything but enraptured by her? How do I know about how Aubrey goaded you into thinking about leaving her? How he brought Carys to find you with that girl and after you turned your back on her she went into the sun.” Okay, so that wasn’t what had actually happened, but that’s what his memories would be of thanks to Lodinn’s treachery.
“He must’ve told you…” he mumbled, the furrow on his brow growing deeper.
“No, you did, just not for a couple of centuries. Ooh, how do I know about the tattoo you got?” I jumped up and down, pointing to its location low on his hip. “You got that after you joined the Order, Carys wouldn’t have known about it. Wait… do you have the tattoo yet?”
His answering frown
told me he did. “You could’ve seen it when we sparred.”
“How? You’re always swathed from head to toe with fabric? Look, I know it sounds unreal, but it’s true. I also know how analytical you are, and you’ll spend some time stripping away all the unlikely explanations and get to the core which is this – the simpler reason is usually the truth. Why can’t I have come back through time to try and save you? You feel the connection between us, don’t you?”
“I hardly know what I feel.” He looked away, and I didn’t let him get away with it, dancing right back into his field of vision again.
“Don’t do this, Bishop, not again,” I pleaded. “Don’t shut me out, not now. You have to trust your feelings for once.”
“For once…” he yelled back, slack jawed as he tried to find the right words. “You speak of things I have no memory of.”
“That’s because they haven’t happened yet, that’s all. I’m asking you to trust your feelings about me. Why would I lie to you about this?”
“Better I ask why should I believe anything you have to say at all?” His face grew redder as he worked himself up. “Am I to take comfort in the fact that you’ve been lying to me this entire time? What else have you lied about?”
“Nothing that matters.”
“That remains to be seen,” he replied, suddenly calm, and that was so much worse.
“Bishop, please…”
Bishop drew himself up, drawing the veneer of formality around him like a shield. “Allow me to escort you back to the house, madam.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” I muttered, stalking away down the street. If he wanted to act like a chûnrén, let him. I wasn’t about to subject myself to that uncomfortable ride back to the house with him.
Quick as anything, Bishop blocked my path. “Anja… please, I would feel better if you got into the carriage.”
“And I would feel better if you stopped being so boneheaded for once, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.” Then again, what choice did I have? Finding a hack to get me all the way back to the house was easier said than done, especially since I didn’t have any money on me. Sure, I could always compel someone into giving me a ride, but that didn’t feel right. Why should some poor hack driver suffer because Bishop was being a jerkwad?
“Fine,” I breathed, stalking off to the carriage we’d come in. I didn’t bother to wait for his assistance into it, just hiked up my skirts and climbed aboard. Pretty sure there wouldn’t be any chance of snuggling together under the sheepskin, I tucked it around my legs and stared out the other window. But instead of climbing in for the most uncomfortable ride ever, Bishop merely shut the door after me, exchanging a few words with the driver, and then stepping back onto the curb.
“Bishop!” I called out, my heart breaking all over again as we pulled away. His face was no less stricken as he watched us leave, that all too familiar look of uncertainty mingled with sorrow I’d gotten used to right after the whole compulsion debacle written all over his face. Why did this keep happening to us? Weren’t we supposed to be at our happy forever by now?
The only comfort I took from the whole thing was knowing how logical and analytical Bishop could be once he had a chance to wrap his mind around it. He’d come to his senses before over much more complicated circumstances. He’d even apologized for not trusting his feelings. He’d figure it out, he had to. And then we’d talk and I could explain in enough detail that he’d see I was telling the truth. He’d realize how much I’d sacrificed for him, and we’d spend the last two weeks practically inseparable until I had to go back to the future – with his promise that he’d never get on a boat again as soon as air travel was invented.
Yeah, none of that happened.
I didn’t see a single sign of Bishop the next night, or the next. When I went down to the lower levels to find him, I was told by an uncomfortable looking Clay that Bishop was not available. That’s all he would say, was that he was unavailable. I got the feeling they preferred him that way too. Knowing his temper, I was willing to bet an absent Bishop was better than a grumpycakes Bishop when it came to being the bossman.
“Maybe you should write him a letter,” Bridget suggested as the third night came with no sign of Bishop in all of Vetis. “You know, put in things you know are gonna happen so when they do, he’s like dude, she really was from the future! Mind blown!” She made the sound of a cataclysmic explosion with her mouth and hands.
“What if he burns it without reading it? No, I have to find some other way to reach him.”
“Show him your phone. He’ll have to believe you’re from the future then.”
“That’s no good, the battery ran out ages ago. All it is now is a weird little paperweight. He’ll come up with some excuse as to what it is.”
“Whatever you’re gonna do, you’d better do it fast. It’s only about a week and a half until the next full moon. Remember what that gypsy dude said about the kerfuffles.”
“I know.” There had to be a way to get him to sit and listen to me for even a few minutes. If only I had the ability to compel other vampires again, I would’ve used it in a heartbeat. Not to change his mind, that would’ve been wrong, but to get him to listen? You bet I was capable of abusing that power for the greater good.
And then it hit me – the one person who could make him do whatever I wanted. “Oh... I think I know who can help. Jakob!”
Bridget looked less impressed with the idea. “What makes you think he’ll want to help? The guy is pretty much hiding out from Lodinn around this time, isn’t he?”
“He is, but I’m pretty sure he’ll help me out as long as it’s not in public. I think between the three of us we can get Bishop alone long enough for him to put the whammy on him and make him listen to me.”
“Yeah, but what’s Jakob’s help gonna cost you?” She arched a single brow at me, and I tried to avoid the path of thought it sent me down.
“I can’t worry about that right now. Like you said, I’m running out of time.”
“Alright then, let’s saddle up and go talk to him,” she agreed, standing up to tuck her boobs higher into her corset.
“Do you really want to come?” I asked in surprise. I’d figured I’d end up having to go find him on my own. “I know Jakob’s not your favorite guy.”
“I think he’s got a bigger ego than Gaston, but I got your back.”
“Gaston?” My brows climbed skyward, and she gave a negligent half shrug.
“We had free Disney channel in the motel before we came back here.”
“Ah.”
“Besides, you’re going to a pub in old-timey London? Yeah, I’m in. Hanging out with all these dead guys is strictly dullsville.”
Trust Bridget to be the only person I knew who’d get bored hanging out with vampires. “Then, get ready to go, we’re off to the Cat & Fiddle.”
“Seriously, that’s what it’s called?”
“Yes, why?”
“What is wrong with this country?” she muttered, slinging her reticule over her shoulder. “Okay, but if the cow jumps over the moon I’m outta there.”
Chapter Twenty
“Anja.” Jakob smiled wide when he saw me, setting the glass he’d been drinking from down on the table. “Already you seek me out, I like this very well.”
“I’m gonna be at the bar,” Bridget said with a roll of the eyes, sashaying off to make eyes at the bartender who had arms the size of tree trunks. The bar itself was less seedy than I’d feared, definitely less sketchy than Dead Lazlo’s back in my time.
I didn’t waste any time on pleasantries, pulling up a chair beside him. “I need your help, I’m running out of time.”
“And what do you wish me to do?”
“I need you to help me with Bishop. Ulrik,” I clarified, still not really sure if he got that they were one and the same.
“Back to Ulrik.” Jakob made a sour frown and took another drink. “I would be happy to help you forget him.” His expression turne
d hopeful again.
“No, see I tried to tell him who I really am and where I’m from, and he completely freaked out.”
“What means this freaked out?”
“He didn’t believe me, with a side of temper over me lying to him.”
“And this surprises you?”
“Okay, so I guess not. But you have to help me, I’m running out of time to make him believe I’m not making this all up. Can’t you get him to accept that I am who I say I am? He’ll listen to you for sure.”
Jakob was already shaking his head. “I dare not reveal myself, not even for you, petal.”
Despite the rejection, I had to smile over the familiar nickname.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You used to call me that – petal. Ah, I mean... you will call me that later on, in the future.”
“Aptly named as you are fresh and beautiful as any bloom,” he smiled, flashing those baby blues at me.
“That’s really sweet, but I’m not going to sleep with you.” I smiled back, and he took another drink, frustrated with my rejection.
“Why not simply compel Ulrik to do what you want?”
“Because I can’t do that anymore. You compelled me not to compel other vamps.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked, like it was the stupidest idea he’d ever heard.
That was a longer story than I wanted to get into, so I summed it up the best I could. “Because you had to do it to Carys and you thought it would be more fair that way.”
“Ah, that sounds equitable.”
“Not to me,” I muttered.
“Fine, I rescind the compulsion, you may compel other vampires at will.”
Shock rippled through me as his will caught hold of me and made such a cataclysmic change with barely a moment’s thought. Could I really compel vampires so easily? Did I want to? Would that complicate my relationship with Bishop again?
“Ah... thanks,” I murmured, still trying to wrap my head around the shift. What could I change now that could impact the future? Could I ensure that Aubrey believed I was who I said I was? Would that keep me from being tortured by Volkov? Was I strong enough in the present time to compel Simon Corley into being less of a pretentious dumbhole? I kept coming back to my age old conundrum – what right did I have to mess with anyone’s mind?