Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down (Forged Bloodlines #2)

Home > Mystery > Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down (Forged Bloodlines #2) > Page 11
Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down (Forged Bloodlines #2) Page 11

by Lisa Olsen


  A little distracted as the performance began, my eyes kept going to the back of the theater, hoping to see Bishop standing there. I kept looking for him, especially during some of the solo pieces when I didn’t have anything to do. I was still nervous about standing out, when I felt the music swell and catch hold of me and I soared with it, carried along by the exquisite resonance of so many voices perfectly blended in four part harmony. I became a part of it, yet distinct, as my vampire gifts lent my voice a power no mortal shared, and I was too caught up in the experience to moderate it as I might normally have. Only when the music died was I released from the spell, blinking against the ripple of applause that went through the audience.

  That’s when I saw him.

  Jakob.

  Sitting very near the front, dressed in an expensive tuxedo, open at the throat, his blonde hair loose around the lapels. His intense blue gaze held mine, with just the hint of a smile playing over his lips.

  Jakob.

  My mouth went dry, and I felt Ivy nudge me forward. “Go on, you’re up next,” she hissed. I stumbled forward in a moment of confusion before I realized it was time for the quartet piece. A space cleared for me, and I thanked my lucky stars my heart didn’t beat any more or it would have been pounding in my ears as I took my place downstage. It was an a capella piece, which meant there wouldn’t be any musical introduction. The piano played four simple notes, giving us our starting point and then the auditorium fell as silent as a room can be with so many bodies pressed inside.

  Ordinarily I’d be fine. Ordinarily it was just the sort of piece I loved to sing, alone in my part, but not alone on stage. But there wasn’t anything ordinary about singing to an ancient vampire elder who happened to be my missing Sire. Tearing my eyes away from the sight of him, I skimmed the crowd, looking for some sign of Bishop. I had to let him know Jakob was there! A flicker of movement in my peripheral vision barely saved me from missing my cue when Professor Matthews signaled us to begin.

  Planning on focusing on the rear of the theater as usual as we began, I felt Jakob command me to look at him. Whether or not it was all in my head, I found him staring at me intently when my eyes swept back to him. Under the power of his gaze my performance changed. No longer nervous or even aware of the singers beside me, I sang to him. Only for him. Words of love and longing I only vaguely understood in Italian spilled forth from my lips, as I sang of my beloved’s eyes.

  Beloved. I felt the emotion coming off of him in waves as my world became the sweet pure notes of music coupled with the dark intensity of his hold over me. When the last notes hung in the air, he released me, and I let out a shaky breath as the crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause. I caught the smallest glint of his smirk as I backed away to retake my place on the risers, too disturbed by the experience to enjoy the rest of the performance. Busy trying not to be swept up in his power again, I deliberately avoided looking in his section for the rest of the concert, barely going through the motions of the rest of the songs.

  After the final curtain went down, I excused myself as quickly as possible, making a beeline for the reception before Jakob slipped away again. I had to find him. I had to figure out what he was doing there and what he wanted before something bad happened. Because I was very sure that something bad would happen with him on the premises.

  Dean Abrams suddenly appeared at my elbow, his eyes lighting upon me with recognition. “Miss Evans, there you are. There’s someone who would like to meet you. May I present Mr. Thorsen, and this is Anja Evans, one of the brightest stars the school has yet to produce.”

  “Enchanted,” Jakob brought my hand to his lips, holding my gaze while he pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

  “Mr. Thorsen,” I nodded, snatching my hand back as quickly as I could manage, doing my best to ignore the tingles that lingered wherever our skin had come into contact. “What brings you to our school concert?” I asked mildly, a gajillion questions all fighting to get out at once. Why did he choose there of all places to pop up? Why not come talk to me directly? Was he there to claim me? Why did he have to look so good?

  “I am ever in search of beauty and talent, which you have in abundance. How could I not attend when I heard of your considerable charms?”

  Resisting the urge to roll my eyes at the overblown compliment, I kept the smile frozen on my lips. Maybe it’d be easier to resist him than I’d thought… “And yet you haven’t bothered to attend before now. It makes one wonder what could possibly be so important as to keep you from something you profess to admire so much,” I replied, unable to keep some of the hurt from my voice. Not that I wanted him around, but to have him haunt my dreams day after day without showing himself had frayed my last nerve.

  “Music is not my only concern,” he shrugged. “There are many demands on my time that I find much less pleasurable. Is that not always the way, Mr. Abrams?” Jakob swung his blue gaze back to the Dean who’d been following our conversation with a pucker of confusion on his brow.

  “Ah… yes, of course. You have to work before you can play, that’s what I always say.”

  “Exactly,” Jakob beamed, his point proven. “I’ve been telling your illustrious Dean I have half a mind to lure you away from here, to tempt you with the world at your fingertips.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you then, Mr. Thorsen. I’m very happy here. I don’t intend to leave anytime soon.” There, let him choke on that…

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.” His smile bordered on a leer and I lost it.

  “I have a pretty good idea, and it seems more like a nightmare than a dream to me.” Unable to keep the venom from my voice, my eyes narrowed to drive my point home. “In fact, I’m betting you have no idea what I really dream about at all. Instead you show up here in your fancy tux all ready to shove your own dreams down my throat.”

  “Miss Evans!” Dean Abrams scolded. “Whatever’s come over you, there’s no excuse for discourtesy.”

  Deciding our conversation didn’t need an observer any longer, I caught hold of the Dean’s will, exerting my influence over him seamlessly. “Dean Abrams, it’s time for you to mingle. Why don’t you go and see how Professor Matthews is doing? I think he’s been waiting to hear your congratulations for a while now.”

  “Congratulations,” Abrams murmured, a silly smile on his face as he wandered off in the direction of the choir director.

  “Well done, my sweet, you handled him very nicely. You’re progressing very well,” Jakob beamed proudly, as if he’d had any hand in it.

  “What are you doing here?” I smiled blandly, not wanting to draw any attention to my distress even though I felt like I might fly apart at any moment.

  “I came to hear you sing, petal. You were brilliant, you outshine these mortals.”

  “Keep your voice down, the room is full of mortals in case you didn’t notice.” I darted a quick look around, but no one seemed to be paying us any mind. Nor did I see Bishop anywhere, and I couldn’t help but frown at that. Did Jakob have something to do with Bishop’s absence?

  “I only notice your beauty when I am in your presence.” Jakob’s smile expanded and that time I did roll my eyes, ready to ditch him if all he wanted to do was repeat the same stupid platitudes.

  “I’d say it’s been nice to see you, but…” Even as I turned to leave, his hand captured mine, laying it lightly over his arm.

  “Come now, we have much to discuss.”

  “If you think I’m leaving here with you, you’ve gone completely mental. Now let me go, or I’ll scream loud enough to make your ears bleed,” I said softly, knowing his sensitive ears would have no trouble picking it up.

  Jakob laughed, deep and rumbling, drawing more than a few envious looks in our direction. I admit he was easy on the eyes, but I wanted nothing more than for him to let me go. Instead he patted my hand, “Delightful as always, älskling, but I hardly think that would be appropriate in this venue. Why not ask where I would take you instead?”
/>
  That gave me pause. “Alright, where did you plan on taking me?” I smiled sweetly, well aware that he was right, it was the last place I wanted to call attention to myself.

  “Right over there,” he pointed to the refreshment table. “I find myself with a powerful need to slake my thirst and you strike me as unwilling.” He lifted a single brow and I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak as the prospect of him taking a drink, whether I wanted him to or not, stirred something deep inside me. “Well then, shall we? There are a few people I would like you to meet.”

  There were people he wanted me to meet? I hadn’t thought he’d ever been to San Francisco before and now he had close buddies at my own school? I let myself be tugged forward, watching him down two glasses of champagne in quick succession, waving away the offer of one for myself. While we stood there, he pointed out several people in the room that were known to him from the San Francisco Choral Society, the Bay Area Chamber Choir, even a representative from the Metropolitan Opera House in New York.

  “What are all these people doing here? It’s not even our final performance of the year.” Usually those were the shows that drew the most interest and could lead to invitations to audition privately. Solos in those shows were a cut throat business. I could have understood if Melissa had been killed for her spot in one of them.

  “I invited them of course, I wanted to show you off to them,” he smiled magnanimously. “We’ll start with Mr. Muiderman, from the Bach Choir.” Jakob led me off to talk to an elderly man with stooped shoulders and an old fashioned hearing aid with a cord trailing down to his pocket. How could he even hear the music, let alone evaluate it?

  Knowing Jakob wanted to show me off like his prized poodle, I was tempted to be nasty to Mr. Muiderman (pronounced like Spiderman, he assured me with a wheezing chuckle) on principle, but the polite little man smiled at me so earnestly, I didn’t have the heart to treat him badly just because I was ticked off by my Sire. So, instead I smiled and nodded as he introduced me. Besides being awfully complimentary and expressing an interest in my career, we chatted about his granddaughter, who also lived in the bay area and loved to sing. I offered to take her on a tour of the campus during winter break and he offered me the same of his facility.

  Next he introduced me to the curator of the Museum of Modern Art and a small crowd gathered, drawn by Jakob’s charm and commanding presence. More at ease among the people circulating through the reception, I forgot to be angry with Jakob, relaxing by his side, even starting to enjoy the evening.

  A prickling on the back of my neck sent a shiver down my spine, and I turned to see Bishop standing in the doorway, his face unreadable. Devastatingly handsome and dressed to impress in a tailored charcoal gray suit, he’d obviously gone through a bit of trouble to clean up for the event. Our eyes met, and I saw the flicker of defeat in them just before his shoulders slumped and he turned to leave, the bouquet of flowers he’d brought falling to the ground. Carnations, my favorite.

  “Bishop…” I murmured, chasing after him, not giving a damn about how rudely I’d left the conversation. Leaving the flowers in my haste to catch him before he put on a burst of speed I knew him to be capable of, I called out louder once I got outside the heavy double doors. “Bishop, wait!” For one heart wrenching moment I thought he wouldn’t stop, but then his feet slowed, and he waited for me to catch up, his back still turned. “Where are you going?”

  “Somewhere else,” he bit out angrily and I grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at me.

  “What happened to you tonight?”

  “I should ask you the same thing,” he retorted. “No wait, nevermind, I don’t want to know. You’d better get back inside to your admirers.”

  “I don’t care about them, I care about you, Bishop. Please, talk to me. Why are you so mad?”

  “I’m not…” he stopped and shook his head. “I’m not mad at you, Anja. This day just came sooner than I’d thought it would.”

  “What day? My concert? It’s been on your calendar for weeks,” I frowned, not clueing in to what had him so upset.

  “The day when I have to say goodbye.” His hand came up to stroke my cheek, regret etched all over his features and the light bulb went off over my head.

  “No, wait, Bishop… is this because Jakob’s in there? I didn’t invite him, he just showed up. He had nothing to do with us, I promise.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you did or not, he’s here now, which means this has to be over.”

  “Over,” I gasped as if I’d been punched in the stomach. “We barely even got started.” The Carpenters sung in my head, but I ignored the instinct to sing along.

  “I can’t come between you and an Ellri, you know that.”

  “Bishop, don’t be an idiot. There’s nothing to come between, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I can’t compete with him,” he shrugged, already admitting defeat before the battle began and I caught up his hand, giving it a squeeze.

  “There’s no contest, I choose you.”

  Bishop pulled his hand away, brows drawing together into a single dark line. “Don’t you get it, it’s not up to you. It’s not up to me…”

  “The hell it’s not!” My voice climbed an octave as righteous anger kicked in.

  “Anja, I can’t challenge him for you, it’s the law.”

  “Screw the law, it can’t tell me who to love.” I didn’t give a damn for his laws and tradition, it had nothing to do with how I felt.

  Bishop let out a long sigh, picking up both my hands and holding them in his. “It can and it does. I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be.”

  “Bishop please…” I pleaded, blinking away the tears stinging at the corners of my eyes. It couldn’t be over already, not when it’d taken so long to get to him in the first place.

  “Shhh,” he laid a chaste kiss to my forehead. “You once said to me, forever is a long time and you were right. Eventually he’ll move on and maybe then…” His voice died out as if he didn’t have much hope of that.

  “So, maybe in a hundred years or more I should look you up?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my voice. Why wouldn’t he fight for me? If we both went to Jakob, explained the situation, maybe he would let me go? Jakob couldn’t be all that attached to me in the first place, or he wouldn’t have abandoned me twice already.

  “Something like that.” The corner of his mouth tilted up into a half smile. “Goodbye, Anja.” He brought my hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to my knuckles.

  “Don’t say goodbye, I’ll still see you around, right? We both live here, I’m not going anywhere. And when Jakob sees he can’t get anywhere with me he’ll get bored and move on, you’ll see.” I offered him a hopeful smile. Bishop just let my hands fall, and without another word, he stalked off into the night.

  I felt Jakob’s approach a few minutes later, but I refused to look back at him. I was afraid if I saw his smug smirk I’d lose it and try and rip it off his face. Then he’d kill me and Bishop would probably be upset and attack Jakob, and end up dead himself. For a few seconds I considered it, it had its own appeal in a Romeo and Juliet sort of way. Instead I calmly pulled myself together, swiping at the tears while I kept my back to him.

  “Time to rejoin the party, petal,” he said softly, no trace of the smug satisfaction in his voice and when I looked up at him, I saw only solace offered in his blue eyes. Nevertheless, I couldn’t go back in and face those people as if I hadn’t just had my heart ripped out.

  “I don’t feel much like a party anymore,” I sniffed, and he produced a folded white handkerchief like my mother used to make me carry when I was a little girl. After a moment’s hesitation I took it, blowing my nose into it noisily. “I’m going home,” I announced, setting off of on foot.

  “Allow me to take you home,” he signaled and a black limo followed us thought the parking lot.

  “No thanks, I’m not interesting in anything you have to give,” I said tightly.
>
  “Perhaps that’s only because you haven’t seen what I have to offer?”

  The smug tone was back and I felt my temper return with it. “Look, when are you going to get it through your thick skull? I’m not yours to toy with. I have my own life, which you’ve just managed to royally screw up, and I’d like a little time alone to figure out how I’m going to salvage it, okay?”

  Jakob blinked uncomprehendingly, but he must have waved the limo off because it stopped stalking us. “I understand you’re upset, but you’ll soon see his decision was inevitable. Allow me to make it up to you.”

  “There’s nothing you have that I want.” I started across the street and he loped beside me like a gazelle. It was hard not to watch Jakob, even though I wanted to ignore the fact that he existed at all.

  “Won’t you allow me to even attempt to change your mind? I would shower you with gifts as befits your status as my consort,” he gave me a well practiced smile.

  “I’m not like your other women, I can’t be bought.”

  “All women have their price, I just have to find the right lure. A few pretty words and a gift or two and their heads turn easily enough.”

  “It sounds like you have a pretty crappy opinion of women,” I muttered, finding it easier to fight against the hold he had over me as long as he kept talking like that.

  “On the contrary, I revere the gentler sex. All I want is to love and protect you and yet you reject me. You’re the one with a crappy opinion of men,” he countered.

  “Not all men, just the ones who hijack my dreams and ruin my life. That was you, right? And don’t bother to deny it.” I narrowed my eyes at him accusingly. “You had no right to do that.”

  “I meant no offense,” he said, spreading his hands. “It was the only way I could be with you until certain events came to pass. Besides, I had every right, you are mine.”

  “Look…” I stopped on the end of my street. “I don’t care what crazy plans you made for us in your head, I’m not your property. Sticking yourself into my dreams, especially those kinds of dreams,” I leveled a look at him, “is invasive. Don’t you understand how it makes me feel?” I could see he didn’t, that was the problem. The entire concept that I wasn’t in a swoon because he crooked his finger at me seemed to have him at a complete loss.

 

‹ Prev