by Lisa Olsen
“Jakob won’t have to bother, because the little runt will never get out of here alive if he makes a move on you,” Carter called out from the doorway, his crossbow leveled at Bakareh’s heart. Gunnar stood behind him, gun drawn, and Lee to his other side, hands shifted to massively sharp claws.
“I have never been thus treated in my life!” Bakareh screamed to the rafters, but nobody batted an eye.
“Are you about done?” I asked when he paused to take a breath. “Go ahead and yell your head off if it makes you feel any better. I’ll have my people pack your things up to go, and we’ll see you safely to your plane. After that you’re on your own.”
His eyes widened with a touch of fear, though what he had to be afraid of, I couldn’t imagine. “I cannot travel on my own. I require attendants, I require feeders, I require…”
A crossbow dart whizzed past his ear, close enough to make him flinch.
“I can make your travel time pass a lot quicker,” Carter offered, quickly rearming the crossbow with another shot.
Bakareh paled, but his voice was lower when he spoke again. “That won’t be necessary. Please see that I leave within the hour.”
“I think we can manage that, Your Grace,” I said politely.
“I shan’t be coming here again,” he sniffed before marching into the bathroom, where he slammed the door behind him.
“Pity. I was starting to like him,” Carter smirked, lowering the crossbow.
I stifled a smile, eager to get things in motion before Bakareh decided to be more difficult. “Okay, let’s get some people in here to pack him up double time. I want him out of here in less than an hour.”
“It is my pleasure,” Gunnar smiled, picking up the house phone to make the arrangements.
“Do we know what happened to Bakareh’s staff? They’re not…?”
“We didn’t turn up any bodies, if that’s what you’re askin’,” Lee replied, keeping pace with me as I strode briskly down the hall.
“I guess we can make some discreet inquiries. I suppose if they’re looking for Sanctuary, the least we can do is help them settle into the West. Any other catastrophes while I’m here, or are we good?”
“I’m almost afraid to answer that without knockin’ wood,” Lee grinned. “But I did hear some rumblins that Jennike’s making plans to skedaddle as well.”
“Her staff didn’t disappear too, did they?”
“Nope, they’re all here and accounted for.”
“Well, let’s hope nothing else goes wrong today.” I rapped on the doorframe in passing, just in case.
Chapter Twenty-Three
By the time Bishop got to the mansion, both Jennike and Bakareh had packed their bags and left without a single ounce of fanfare. It was the shortest state visit he’d ever heard of. Maybe the blood bath hadn’t been such a bad idea after all?
He found Anja in the security office with Carter poring over the video footage, and she looked up with a smile when he walked in.
“Hey, you’re here. We figured out how the blood was poisoned.” She waved him over to the monitors. “Check it out.”
An image of the kitchen came onscreen, and one of the human servers, a blonde that he vaguely recognized from the night before, stood in front of the racks of clean cordial glasses as they came out of the massive dishwasher. Methodically, she worked her way through the entire lot of them, applying something to each and every glass, though it was impossible to tell from the resolution of the image, what it was she put in the glasses.
“That checks out with what the lab found,” Bishop reported. “There’s nothing wrong with the blood itself, it was the glasses that were poisoned.”
“That explains why the feeders were fine, and why it didn’t affect people right away. The glasses weren’t poisoned until after the first batches were served and run through the dishwasher,” Anja mused aloud. “Did you find out what the poison was?”
Bishop nodded. “Hyacinthus orientalis, commonly known as hyacinth.”
Anja gasped in surprise. “A flower did all that?”
“Some of the best poisons come from plants,” Carter chimed in. “From what I can remember, it’s the bulbs that are poisonous on the hyacinth, causing nausea, vomiting, and convulsions. Sometimes death, though not for vampires. The most we’d get is sick, like we saw last night.”
Anja looked between the two men. “How do you guys know this stuff? Did I miss the poison chapter in the vampire handbook or something?”
Bishop shrugged. “You pick things up over the years. I’m betting you won’t forget about the properties of hyacinth any time soon, will you?”
“You’re not wrong there,” she admitted with a sigh.
“There’s something else too,” Carter pointed out, pulling up another file on the computer. “I have audio coverage in the bedrooms. I picked up something right before Bakareh’s staff took off earlier today.”
Bishop’s brows rose in surprise. “Bakareh’s staff took off?”
“It’s been a weird evening so far,” Anja nodded.
“Here, listen to this.”
There was a light murmur of voices, and for the life of him, Bishop couldn’t pick out even a single word. “Am I supposed to be able to recognize what’s being said there?”
“No, and that’s the best I can do with this equipment. It’s not like on TV where I can adjust a couple of dials and all of a sudden we have crystal clear dialogue.”
“What are we listening for then?” Anja asked.
“Nothing, exactly. I just think it’s interesting. There’s that light murmur and then they all left without packing a single thing.” Carter turned on another camera sequence from the upstairs hallway that showed them filing out without any hurry and no further conversation. “Just walked out as happy as you please without a backward glance.”
Anja watched the footage, her brow furrowing. “Maybe they had a meeting about leaving and didn’t want Bakareh to hear?” she suggested, and Carter gave her a pointed look.
“How much can you hear when you’re passed out for the night?”
“Bakareh’s much older though, he might be a light sleeper,” Bishop pointed out. “Whatever was discussed, it was low enough that they were obviously afraid of being overheard. What’s so strange about that?”
“I thought it was weird, because…” Carter keyed up another sequence. “You can hear the same kind of murmuring right before Amunet leaves too. And isn’t it weird that she left before the sun went down?”
“It is odd,” Bishop agreed. A vampire her age could take small amounts of sun, just as he could, especially on an overcast winter day, but it was definitely unusual.
Anja listened to it once more before sitting back. “The whole thing’s weird, but it’s not our problem, now that Bakareh’s gone. I’d probably walk out on him if he was my boss too.”
“Eventually Amunet will turn up and ask for Sanctuary, and I expect we’ll get the whole story then,” Bishop said. It was strange, but not enough to dwell on. The important thing was, with the exalted guests already on their way, they were done playing hosts, and their lives could get back to normal. As normal as it could be when he was courting the Elder of the West.
“That’s probably true,” Anja agreed. “Well, let’s track down that blonde server and see who put her up to poisoning the glasses. I’m assuming she wasn’t acting on her own.”
“I think that’s a fair assumption,” Bishop agreed. “Do you need any help?”
“No, I’ll take care of it,” Carter replied before Anja had a chance to. “I can handle a simple human interrogation, probably better than anyone else here.”
“Okay, keep me posted, Carter,” Anja agreed easily. “Besides, I have something else I need to take care of tonight.”
Carter made a face as though he’d tasted something sour. “Have fun with that,” he muttered.
“Oh? What else did I miss before I got here?” Bishop asked, his brows touching as he worried what
else would stand in their way.
“Something pretty important,” Anja replied, leading him out of the security room and out into the entry hall.
“Like what?” He’d cleared off his schedule for most of the night, hoping to be by her side, but this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. “Whatever it is, I’ll be here for you.”
“That’s good to know, because I’m going to need you on this one.”
“Then we’ll handle it together. What is it?”
“It could take a while.”
“Anja, what is it?” It must be bad if she didn’t even want to say it.
She stood before him, so somber, it made his gut clench with worry. But then the corner of her mouth tugged up into a goofy grin. “Tag – you’re it.” And then she turned and lit out of the room like a bat out of hell, leaving him blinking at her sudden departure. He was still staring at the doorway when she re-appeared in it seconds later, leaning in enough to see her head and torso. “This is where you chase me,” she smirked, before taking off again at lightning speed.
“You want a chase? I’ll give you a chase,” Bishop grinned, his temporary paralysis fading as the thrill of the hunt settled in. It reminded him of the first night she’d tried to give him the slip, back when he’d tried to arrest her for not having her license and registration. Even then she’d been far fleeter than she should’ve been for a newborn, and she had so much more control now.
Anja led him on a merry chase through the streets of San Francisco, faster than the human eye could track. How long had it been since he’d run like this just for pleasure? Too many times he only used his speed and tracking ability in the course and scope of his job, but this was a different kind of hunt. It was freeing on many levels, especially when her laughter floated back to him, teasing and spurring him faster and faster. Only the fact that he figured out where she was leading him kept him from losing her, she was so wily an adversary. And when he guessed her end destination, the game changed. Now, he had the upper hand, able to anticipate her path, and the best way to ensnare her.
He saw her hesitate at the bottom of the stairs from his hidden vantage point. Saw her look around in dismay, golden hair loose and wild, her cheeks stained with color. Light as a cat, Bishop leapt down, landing right beside her.
“Tag,” he smiled, wrapping a supportive arm around her waist when she almost lost her balance, she was so startled.
“Ooh, you got me. I didn’t even see you coming,” Anja laughed. “I guess it’s my turn.”
“I guess so,” Bishop replied, but he made no move to let go of her.
“Aren’t you going to run?”
“Not a chance.” His mouth closed over hers, claiming his prize for catching her. Anja tasted of cloves from her lip balm, the scent triggering a memory he wanted to duplicate in the worst way. Bishop nudged her backwards to the stairs, never breaking the kiss as they stumbled their way up to his apartment. From the way she kissed him back, he sure as hell hoped she had the same thing in mind that he did, because he wasn’t sure he could take things slow with her this time. Anja answered that question by taking charge of the kiss as soon as they reached the landing, slamming him against the door in her enthusiasm.
“I’m sorry,” she squeaked as his head bounced against the metal door, hard enough to smash their lips together. She sucked lightly at the bead of blood that welled on his bottom lip, and he let out a ragged moan, his hips grinding against her softness in response. Unable to help himself, his sharp fang pricked at her lip, and he sucked hard, the taste of her blood exploding across his tongue.
The kiss went on and on, the tiny wounds healing and being reopened again as they kissed and drank, hands growing increasingly bold as they roamed each other’s bodies.
“We’d better get inside soon,” he groaned, when her light touch grazed over his cock straining against his jeans.
“Why?”
“Because if we don’t, I’ll end up taking you right here,” he growled, his fingers finding slick flesh beneath her skirt.
“Do that again and I won’t care,” she sighed against his mouth, her thighs spreading wider at his touch.
It was almost enough to drive him over the edge, but enough of a gentleman remained in him that Bishop wouldn’t take her against the dirty door for their first reunion. “Keys,” he grumbled, letting go of her to reach for his pockets, and she brushed his hands aside.
“Let me get that for you.” She dug into his pocket, not at all shy where she groped as she searched for the keys, the curve of her lips telling him it was deliberate. Anja turned to put the key into the lock, and he nudged the hair away from the nape of her neck, lips brushing over her tender skin, unable to stop touching her even for a second, now that they were so close.
The second the door unlatched, Bishop had her inside, pressed up against the wall in a heated kiss as he turned off the alarm without looking at the keypad. He had to slow down or he’d end up taking her against the wall, and that wouldn’t be much better than giving in to his urges outside the door. With supreme effort, he pulled away from her yielding softness, her eyes widening in surprise when he broke the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, emotions flitting over her expressive face.
“Not a thing,” he smiled, tracing the line of her jaw, kissing her more gently, reverently. “I thought maybe we should relocate though, don’t you?”
Her lips curved in a glorious smile. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.” Eager to keep that smile on her face, Bishop lifted her into his arms, but didn’t take her to the bedroom, as expected. “What are you doing?” Her brow furrowed with confusion when he sat her atop the kitchen counter.
“Claiming my prize for catching you,” he replied matter-of-factly, fingers already making short work of the buttons on her blouse.
“I thought maybe we’d do that in the bedroom.”
“We’ll get there,” he assured her, slipping the blouse from her arms. If he got her on the bed right now, he wouldn’t be able to make it as slow and beautiful as she deserved. “There’s no reason we have to start in the bedroom, is there?” Bishop cocked a brow, enjoying the shiver that went through her as his fingers reached inside to deftly pull her breasts free of the lacy bra, the material pushing them up in a tantalizing pout.
“Yes, but… here?”
“It’s the breakfast bar, isn’t it?” he smirked, holding her gaze as his mouth closed over the top of her breast, his teeth grazing across her skin. “I’d say I won a taste, wouldn’t you?” Bishop kissed the other breast, this time he allowed his fangs to pierce her flesh in the tiniest of pricks, drawing lightly at the wound to heighten her pleasure.
“Oh… yes, you definitely deserve a taste,” she moaned, her head falling back to offer him better access, her legs winding around his hips to pull him closer.
The counter put her at the perfect height for his hands to roam, first to make sure the other plump breast wasn’t neglected, and then to travel south, where she needed it the most. He took just enough blood to keep the pleasure humming along her veins, first from one dusky peak and then the other, until she cried out his name, hands flailing as she shook from the violence of the climax that took her by surprise. Bishop crooked his fingers, drawing out her spasms of pleasure, and she gave a strangled cry which mingled with the sound of bending metal as she crushed the water spigot in the kitchen sink.
Her eyes flew open, realizing what it was she’d destroyed in the throes of passion. “I’m sorry!”
“It’s okay, it’s my fault entirely,” he chuckled, taking the bent spigot from her hand. Bishop would gladly replace the fixture daily if it meant he could have her in his arms each night. He’d expected her to be pliable and limp after the thunderous orgasm, but if anything, Anja seemed to burn hotter than before.
“The bedroom?” she panted, hands sliding inside the waistband of his pants.
“The bedroom,” he managed to get out, his voice husky w
ith need as he scooped her into his arms again.
Bishop deposited her on the corner of the bed, and she immediately reached for him, deftly undoing his belt and opening his pants. Her fingers were cool as they tugged them down, and the brush of her breath against the head of his cock made it jerk, eager for the taste of her mouth. But that wasn’t how he’d planned this in his mind over all of those lonely nights, dreaming of the time she’d come willing to his bed.
Stepping out of his pants, Bishop also scooted out of reach until he was sure she wouldn’t do something that destroyed his self control. Her eyes followed his movements hungrily as he pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes, until he stood before her completely nude. As he approached the bed, she went up on her knees, and he gently captured her wrists, distracted by the feel of her nipples brushing against his bare chest and the softness of her thigh.
Her brow furrowed in confusion when he didn’t release her. “Don’t you want me to…”
“I’m still making things up to you.”
“I thought you already did.”
“I told you, that was only the beginning. Lie back and let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”
“But I want to…”
“You will,” he assured her. “There’s no rush, is there? We’ve got all night.”
Anja stilled at that, letting him slide her skirt and panties from her hips as she laid back obediently.
All that soft, creamy skin. So cool beneath his fingertips, but burned like a brand wherever they touched. How he wanted to lose himself in her embrace, but Bishop was far too focused for that. He had a lot to atone for, and he didn’t intend to waste a single moment of the night stretching before them.
It’d been so long since he’d had the chance to love her as she deserved to be loved. Those few times they’d been together before had seared into his mind, making him burn for her touch on those endless lonely nights. At the same time, the edges of his memory had blurred together, too indistinct to be real. The sweet perfection that was Anja had become more phantom than reality to him, and he chased after these new memories, desperate to make her real once more.