Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down

by Lisa Olsen

  Kiss Me

  When the Sun Goes Down

  By

  Lisa Olsen

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down (The Fallen, #10)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Preview – Angel of Mercy

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Copyright © 2015 Lisa Olsen, all rights reserved.

  Cover Image licensed by Depositphotos.com/Konradbak

  This book is sold subject to the conditions that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, copied, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any other format or changed in any way, including the author’s name and title, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The use of any real person, company or product names are for literary effect only and used without permission. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  Visit the author’s website at http://www.lisaolsen.net

  Acknowledgements

  So many thanks to my team – Beckie Pimentel of Lady Bex Editing Services, Marilyn Weaver, James Olsen, Randi Pandi, Laveda Kasch and my street team – for doing such a shiny job of catching all of my blunders and helping me get this book out to all of you. And a big thanks to all the readers who’ve stuck with Anja and her world through ten books!

  Chapter One

  Bishop paced the length of the apartment, his thumb tapping against each finger in quick succession, back and forth again, until he came to a map of San Francisco covering the dining room table. “I have the plan outlined here,” he said, placing both palms on the corner of the map, brow furrowed as he scanned the details one more time. “Time of arrival, a complete itinerary, how long each phase should take, a few back up contingencies, should any unforeseen complications arise. What do you think? Can you spot any flaws?”

  Mason approached the table, dark eyes scanning the details with a quick assessment. “I do see one problem, yes.”

  “What?” Bishop asked, his head coming up sharply, only too late catching the smirk on his best friend’s face.

  “Dating Anja is not a war on terrorism.” Mason helped himself to a beer from the fridge, his large frame easily balancing on the narrow stool at the breakfast bar in Bishop’s apartment. “You’ve got to relax, buddy. You’re seriously over thinking this.”

  Bishop slumped as his back hit the wall. “Easy for you to say, you’ve dated in this century. And the last. I haven’t courted a woman in over four hundred years. I’m thinking things have changed a little. What if she…”

  “Hey, hey, hey, take a breath,” Mason interrupted, laying a hand on his shoulder. “What are you so worried about? Any girl out there would be overwhelmed with sweat to go out with you.”

  “What?” Bishop asked, completely baffled. “Is that a good thing?”

  “Nobody appreciates the classics anymore,” Mason muttered with a shake of the head. “Look, I’m sure she’s just as nervous as you are.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible.” Bishop considered a beer for himself, but decided against it, taking up his pacing again, fingers tapping in agitation. “Do people still send love letters? Poems? That’s how it was done in my day.”

  “That’s definitely one way to go.”

  Bishop winced; he was awful at that stuff. “I was hoping that would be passé. I guess I could always work on another piece of music for her.” The idea wasn’t half bad, and he wrote it down in his notebook.

  “There you go, use your skills,” Mason approved with an enthusiastic nod. “You got mad skill, brah.”

  “Did you just call me brah? Maybe I should be asking someone else for advice on this.” Or better yet, nobody.

  “Relax. Follow my lead and I’ll have her eating out of your hand.”

  “I don’t want her eating out of my hand, I just want things to be…”

  “You want to get a little chicka-bow-wow going?” Mason waggled his brows.

  “Chicka-what?”

  “You know…” Mason’s smile grew more pronounced. “Make some sweet sweat. Knock boots? Get all grindy?”

  “Please stop talking.” Bishop waved him away. He never should’ve asked him for advice in the first place.

  “Oh, I get it. You want to run to each other across a verdant field while violin music swells in the distance, and then…”

  “I was trying to say special.” Bishop cut him off. “Anja’s special, and I want our first real date to be special too.”

  “I’m telling you, you have to stick to the classics then. Compliment her eyes or her shoes, chicks dig shoes.”

  “You want me to compliment her shoes?” What did someone say about shoes? They were… shoes.

  “Yeah, trust me, girls have a whole relationship with shoes that’s like on another level,” Mason nodded sagely. “Also, remember to ask her about how she’s feeling. Get her talking. Girls love to talk about themselves. Bust out with the what are you thinking? any time it gets too quiet. They love to know you’re interested in what makes them tick. But be sure to have a few answers when they ask you the same thing, they want to hear about your inner thoughts too, even when you’re not thinking of much at all. Trust me, no girl wants to hear that you’re trying to remember if you picked up your dirty clothes off the bedroom floor when she’s all awash in romance.”

  Bishop nodded, jotting down in his notebook – shoes, what are you thinking? both ways.

  “When all else fails, make her laugh.”

  “Make her laugh?” His head came up sharply as dread made his palms sweat again. How was he supposed to do that beyond tripping over his own feet? “I’m not good at telling jokes.”

  “No, I don’t mean you have to bust out the stand up. You have to play off what she says. Be charming, be suave. Get some witty repartee going between you.”

  “Witty repartee,” Bishop nodded, making a note of it in his book.

  “And definitely don’t show up empty handed. Flowers for sure, maybe expensive jewelry.”

  “Are you sure this is the way to go?” Anja didn’t seem like the type to be s
wayed by expensive gifts, or he’d have tried some of the things that’d made Carys’ head turn.

  “Show me a girl who doesn’t like jewelry and I’ll show you one who ain’t never got none. Don’t take my word for it though, hold on a sec.” Mason dug into his pocket for his phone. “I’ll use my secret weapon. Hey, kitten, you still awake?” he smiled into the phone as Hanna picked up.

  “I am now.” Bishop distinctly heard Hanna’s yawn, but she didn’t sound upset at the call. “Are you coming home soon?”

  “Almost. But first, I wanted to ask you to do something sneaky and underhanded. Are you in?”

  “That depends, who is it sneaky and underhanded against?” She yawned again.

  “I need you to use your inside knowledge to help Bishop score with your sister.”

  “That is not what I said!” Bishop growled, heat stealing into his cheeks as he heard Hanna’s answering laughter.

  “Oh, is that all? Tell him to show up, that should about do it.”

  Bishop snatched the phone from Mason’s grasp. “That’s not what I said. I was hoping for something a little more…” Once again, words eluded him. How could he get the date right, if he couldn’t even articulate what he was looking for? “I don’t want to get this wrong, you know?”

  Hanna’s voice was gentle but firm. “Bishop, I’m sure she’ll love any date you plan for her. But some of us have to work in the morning, so I’m going back to bed. I’ll try and think of some sneaky and underhanded way for you to get into Anja’s panties on my lunch break tomorrow. Will that work for you?”

  “Ah… sure, thanks,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Sorry if we woke you,” he added, passing the phone back to Mason.

  “Thanks, hon. You look pretty.”

  “How can you tell?” was Hanna’s amused response.

  “You always look pretty,” Mason replied with a goofy grin. “I’ve gotta go. Keep the bed warm for me. Love you.”

  “I love you too, you big goofball.”

  Mason was still smiling to himself as he tucked away the phone, before clapping his hands together abruptly. “Oh, I’ve got it! Take her out for fondue. She’ll love it.”

  Fondue? Was that a Captain America reference? “But we don’t eat.”

  “I know, but hot cheese is classy in any situation.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” In fact, he wasn’t sure any of Mason’s advice could be taken without a truck load of salt.

  “You want to impress her, right?” his friend insisted. “That means the best of everything. The snootiest restaurant you can book, the hottest show, a limo, the whole nine yards.”

  “You don’t think that’s going a tad overboard?”

  “Nah, she’ll love it.”

  He looked so earnest, Bishop had to trust that he knew what he was talking about. Besides, Anja deserved the best of everything. “Fine, I’ll do it. Thanks, man.”

  “I got a lifetime of knowledge, brah,” Mason winked.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late to cancel.

  Chapter Two

  “Just because he drops a wad of cash on you doesn’t mean you have to put out.” Quick like a bunny, Carter darted right back out of my bedroom after sticking his head in my doorway. I knew he hadn’t gone far though.

  “Have you been reading Cosmo again?” I called out, and sure enough, his head popped back in.

  “I’m just saying, times are different now. You don’t owe him anything.”

  I put down my mascara to turn and face him. Despite the early evening hour, he’d already been up working out in his attic space, and his t-shirt was plastered to his chest and back with sweat. All I’d managed to do was shower and primp, spending way too much time making sure my skin was silky smooth for a girl who had no intention of showing that much of it.

  “Um, no offense, but haven’t you not had a date since the seventies?”

  “More like the sixties,” he admitted with perfect ease.

  “Then I think I’m good. I have done this before, you know.” I turned back to fret over my bangs. They were at that awkward stage where I wasn’t sure if I should trim them or let them grow out. Brushing them to the side, they didn’t look too bad, though I’d have to tilt my head slightly to keep them out of my eyes. The things we do for beauty!

  Carter hung around, his shoulder pressed to the doorframe. “I know. I just don’t want to see you rush into anything. You do that, you know.”

  He had a point. “Yeah, I know.” But was it really rushing if I was already in love with the guy who was about to show up for our first date? Half of me said yes, and half of me said no – it was anyone’s guess how the night was going to end up.

  “I could follow you guys and make sure he doesn’t get too fresh.”

  “Oh sure, that’ll be a fun evening. Pay no attention to my bodyguard, Bishop. You’d better watch your hands though,” I snorted, trying not to laugh, and Carter’s lips grew harder, miffed.

  “I’d totally stay out of sight.”

  “No thanks. I think I can handle it on my own.” His heart was in the right place, but the two of them weren’t the best of friends, and I was already nervous enough about the date. Would it be awkward and weird after everything we’d been through? What if I screwed it up and wrecked our shot at a future together? Or knowing Bishop’s track record, what if he did? Even scarier – what if everything went right? What if I gave in to the power of that smile and told my reservations to take a hike? What if I got lost in his eyes and never wanted to break free?

  “Earth to Anja…” Carter tapped at the door molding, jarring me out of my train of thought.

  “Huh?”

  “I asked where you’re going tonight.”

  For a moment, I thought he was only asking to choose the best cover to spy on us, but his face lacked that calculating shrewdness it got when he was plotting his next move. Even if I wanted to tell him, I couldn’t. “I have no idea, he’s planned the whole thing on his own. All he said was to dress nice.” I’d chosen a slim fitting red dress, with a lacy overlay and an asymmetrical neckline. It was classy, but more daring than the safe little black dress I tended to choose. “How do I look?”

  “Like I’d better follow along after you and make sure he doesn’t try anything.”

  “You are not following us around!” I threw my hairbrush at him to make my point, knowing he’d deflect it before it smacked him in the face. Sure enough, he plucked it out of the air without batting an eye. “In fact, I forbid it. If I get one whiff that you’re lurking in the shadows, you’re grounded for a whole month. That means no video games, no movies, and no target practice. And definitely no hunting.”

  Carter crossed the room, handing the brush over, his face drawn in a comical version of disappointment. “Aw, gee, Ma…”

  “You’re the one acting like an unruly child,” I pointed out, and he backed off.

  “Fine, I’ll stay home. But if he tries anything out of line, I’ll cut off his dick.”

  “I’d take it as a personal favor if you stayed away from that part of his anatomy. I might have a use for it later,” I replied, pausing as if speculating as to what exactly for.

  Carter’s face twisted as though he was choking back a gag. “I think that’s my cue to go shower.”

  “Probably a good idea, yep,” I nodded, holding back a smile. “And Carter?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you too, but I can take care of myself.” He just shook his head and wandered off.

  I’m not going to lie, I hid out in my room until I heard Bishop’s step on the front porch. I’d finished applying the perfect shade of red lipstick to go with my dress, and my eyes had just the right wing of liner to them. There was nothing left to do but wait, and I chose to do it alone, knowing if I went upstairs I’d have to talk to Maggie, Gunnar or Lee, and I didn’t think I could handle any chit chat, not with the hamsters doing the samba in my belly.

  “It’s just a date,” I said to my reflection. �
�And it’s with Bishop. Nothing to be afraid of.” Yeah, it’s only your future, no big whoop, my inner voice taunted back at me.

  I started for the stairs as I heard his knock, my heels snagging on the carpet and sending me tumbling to the ground where I scraped my knees. “Cool beans,” I huffed, frowning over the reddened skin, because who didn’t love that girl? But thanks to my vampire healing, the scrapes disappeared within seconds, the skin turning pink and then to paler perfection as I heard Maggie greet Bishop above.

  Bishop stood on the porch, wearing a spiffy suit of charcoal gray with a very faint checked pattern, and a maroon tie over a crisp white shirt. I could count the times I’d seen him in a suit on one hand, and the effect was very, very appealing. The scruffy goatee was gone, his cheeks baby soft and infinitely tempting below the crinkle of his green eyes. “Wow, you look… You’re…” He licked his lips, Adam’s apple bobbing as he fought to find the right words. “It’s um, you’re very…”

  “You’re very too,” I smiled, somehow relieved that he looked as nervous as I did. “Are those for me?” He held a forgotten bunch of white carnations drooping in one hand.

  “Ah… yeah, yes,” he nodded, holding them up, but his hand met with the unseen barrier, reminding me that I hadn’t invited him in since the house had been re-consecrated by Rob’s sister, Leila.

  “Oh, thank you,” I smiled, reaching through to take them from him, bringing them to my nose for an appreciative sniff before I handed them off to Maggie, who watched us with subdued amusement. “Am I dressed okay for where we’re going tonight?”