Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down: Forged Bloodlines, #2

By Lisa Olsen

"Do you ever wish you could take something back the instant you say it? One moment Bishop and I were kissing under the moonlight, and then I had to go and open my big fat mouth."

The bodycount rises in the next chapter of Anja's afterlife and not in a good way. Anja finds herself attracting a lot of attention from the police and the vampire community alike, and now she's got a stalker making her life difficult at every turn. At her side is darkly intense Bishop, but how long will their happiness last once her absent Sire reappears? To complicate things, it's getting increasingly difficult to keep up the façade of humanity among her family and friends, and her school keeps expecting her to go to classes... What's a vampire to do when ice cream therapy proves ineffective?

Torn between the man she loves and the primal lure she feels towards Jakob, Anja must fight for what she wants... just as soon as she figures out what that is.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Olsen
• Release date: Feb 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524225841

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 Lisa Olsen, all rights reserved.

Cover Image licensed by Depositphotos.com/Alena Root

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

Thanks to my editing team, Emily, James and my mom for knocking through this one on a tight deadline, it’s so nice to turn things over to your capable hands and take a break after weeks of writing!  Randi Pandi, thanks for being my continuity failsafe and cheerleader.  Thanks to everyone who contacted me through my website and left reviews asking about the sequel, I love hearing from you guys! 

Chapter One

Do you ever wish you could take something back the instant you say it?  One moment Bishop and I were kissing under the moonlight in the deserted warehouse district of San Francisco, and then I had to go and open my big fat mouth. 

Who’s Ulrik? 

Bishop froze at the question, and I immediately wished we could get back to the part where he kissed me without the lure of blood or pity.  Why did I think it would be any easier to get answers out of him just because he kissed me?  If you looked up the definition of the word secretive in the dictionary, you’d find his picture there, alongside sexy, dark and mysterious.  Tall with classically handsome features and green eyes that saw through me whenever I was less than truthful, Bishop represented everything I could ever want in a man, along with a few things I didn’t want (way too bossy and grouchy most of the time), but overall I accepted the package deal because I was up to my neck in love with him. 

Actually no, you wouldn’t find him in the dictionary at all, because the second Bishop found his picture in a public forum he’d make sure it disappeared, and with the resources at his disposal at the Order, he could do it, too. 

The words hung heavily between us and after a pregnant pause, I started to realize he wasn’t going to answer me.  Bishop... I had just about decided to let him off the hook and suggest we forget I even asked when he answered, his voice low but distinguishable in the stillness of the night.

Ulrik died a long time ago.

Then why did Jakob call you that?  And why does he hate you so much?  I’d seen the barely controlled enmity between the men, it went way beyond any feelings they had for me, definitely an old beef.  Not that it wasn’t a little cool being the object of desire between two drop dead gorgeous guys, that was definitely out of my realm of expertise.  Branded a book nerd from way back, I’d been lucky to catch the eye of any guy, let alone two at once.  Only, one of the guys I’d managed to attract happened to be an ancient natural born vampire elder, who could pretty much treat me as his property under vampire law.  Not a fun prospect for me. 

For the same reason I can’t stand him, he’s a dick.

You guys go pretty far back, huh?  It was strange to think my Sire was technically the GrandSire of my boyfriend, I didn’t even want to think about what that made us.  Stranger still, was Bishop my boyfriend?  The way he ran hot and cold I wasn’t quite ready to trust that yet.  "Why do you think he’s a dick? The word sat uncomfortably on my tongue.  He seemed nice enough to me."  Except for that whole ripping the hearts out of people’s chests... 

Bishop gave a mirthless laugh.  You might not think he’s very nice after you get to know him better, Anja.  He considered Carys to be his property, whether he kept her by his side or not.  That translated into me being his property too.

The way he thinks I belong to him? 

No, not exactly.  Bishop’s face hardened and I mentally kicked myself for utterly killing the mood.  There we were in the moonlight and I’d single-handedly turned the conversation back to the worst period of Bishop’s life from the sound of it. 

I’m sorry, I know you don’t like to talk about the past...

Bishop shook his head, fingers sifting through my hair, pulling it free from the last of the pins as he watched the light refract through the pale strands.  No, I think you should know more about the guy before you consider following the next time he crooks his finger, he sighed.  "Jakob is an Ellri, a natural born vampire, one of the oldest living beings on the planet.  For centuries he’s been worshiped by our kind, treated as a God.  There are no laws that apply to the Ellri, he can do as he likes.  A guy doesn’t live that long without thinking he’s entitled to certain things."

Tell me about it, you should have seen his face when I didn’t immediately follow him, I snorted, and the hint of a smile tugged at Bishop’s lips.

I would’ve liked to have seen that, he agreed.  Carys was his favorite.  I’m not sure how many others he sired over the years, but she used to tell me she was the only one left alive.

Left alive?  That sounded ominous, but I couldn’t leave it alone.  Would Jakob kill me if I refused to treat him like a living god?

He has a history of killing those who don’t agree with him, including his family.  He used to have a brother as well, Bishop added, and I suppressed a shudder that had nothing to do with the chilly night air, waiting for him to go on.  Somehow Carys could always twist him around her little finger.  She had this way of smiling at you... A smile transformed his face, and I felt a hot stab of jealousy even though I knew she was long dead.  As far as I knew, Bishop had never smiled like that about me, he seemed more bewildered or even annoyed at the thought of caring for me most of the time.  He carried on his narrative, oblivious to my inner dialogue. 

Even though they’d been apart for years, when Jakob found out she’d turned me, his first instinct was to kill me on sight.  Carys talked him out of it.  He never let me forget I lived by her request alone.  Bishop lapsed into silence, lost to his own thoughts until he shook it off, offering me an apologetic shrug.  I thought he’d kill me after she died, but I never saw his face again.  I thought he was dead, we all did.  He dropped off the face of the vampire community for centuries.  Maybe he went to ground, I don’t know, he shrugged again.

Interesting, getting bits and pieces of how they all fit together, but Bishop’s past held my curiosity for the moment.  Never in a bajillion years would I have guessed him to be of German descent, but like he’d said once; you live long enough, you assimilate plenty of other cultures.  That’s when you were Ulrik?  When you were a human? 

And for a hundred years after I was turned, he nodded. 

What happened to make you change your name?  You didn’t like it anymore?

It doesn’t matter.

It matters to me.  I want to know you.  Why couldn’t he open up to me?  He knew all my dirty little secrets.

I haven’t been that person for a long, long time.  This is who I am now, love it or hate it.

I opened my mouth up to say love but chickened out at the last second.  Whatever you are, I’m good with it, I offered with a lame smile, warmed when he smiled back, his arms wrapping tighter around me and I let myself enjoy the feel of his embrace.  So, I’m in the clear now, right? I asked when we pulled back.  "If he’s an Ellri, I don’t have to keep pretending to be something I’m not."  Since the Ellri weren’t subject to vampire law, Jakob wouldn’t need a license to create a newbie like me.  That meant I had nothing to fear from the Order or any other vampire anymore.

"Except you already have been pretending, and we don’t have any proof you were turned by an Ellri because he hasn’t stepped forward to claim you."

Again with the claiming.  I’m really beginning to hate that word, I muttered.  Then you think I should stick to my Anja Gudrun cover story?  I admit, I started to like the identity I’d spun for myself, so much more interesting than Anja Evans, college student and choralist.  Not quite as bad as a band geek, but dorky all the same. 

I think it’s probably a good idea, at least for now, until we figure out what Jakob plans to do next.

I hate the idea of putting my life on hold until he puts in an appearance again, I scowled, and Bishop chucked me under the chin.

Buck up, it won’t be that bad.  Now that I know who we’re dealing with, it won’t be as hard to find him.

Trouble was, I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Bishop took me home on the back of his motorcycle, no easy feat in the fancy dress I’d worn on my date with Kursik.  The ballet... it seemed like ages ago.  Was it really the same night?  Seeing me up to my third floor apartment, I was never so glad to find my roommate Bridget out for the night.  Do you want to come in for a while? I asked, trying for an inviting smile, but I must not have done a great job at it, because he shook his head before I even had the last word out. 

I have to get going.

Do you really have to leave?  Where was the fun in having a sexy vampire cop at my door if he didn’t want to take advantage of me?

I’ve gotta go clean up the mess at Kursik’s penthouse, I shouldn’t have stayed away as long as I have as it is.  I’ll try to keep your name out of it, but...  It didn’t seem realistic to me either.  Fully half of Kursik’s staff had heard me scream for Aleksandr to get off of me and then seen me with blood up to my elbows standing over his corpse with Jakob nowhere to be found.  Call me the instant Jakob shows his face again, do you promise?

The worried look on his face made me instantly agree, even though I knew it would kill any chance I had at getting answers out of Jakob directly.  I will, I promised, gratified when he pressed his lips to my cheek.

That’s my girl.

I am, you know, I breathed, lips turning towards his, your girl.  Bishop’s mouth found mine then, and I felt something pass between us, despite his lack of words on the subject.  I was his, in every way that counted.  More than anything I wanted him to edge me back to my bedroom so I could prove it to him and maybe explore what it might feel like to be claimed by a vampire, but as usual, his sense of duty came first.  When he broke the kiss we were both breathing raggedly, despite the fact that neither of us technically needed air. 

I have to get going, he repeated, and I wasn’t sure if he said it to convince me or himself from the hunger on his face. 

I know, I replied, leaning up on my tiptoes to kiss him again before he left.  It was almost like we were magnetic, and it was harder to stay apart than it was to be together.  Bishop pulled me close, getting in a last lingering kiss before he pulled away with obvious regret. 

I’ll see you soon though, he promised, taking a step backwards, putting some much needed space between us. 

I’ll hold you to that, I smiled, watching him go down the hallway to the top of the stairs.  Remember, I know where you live.

Bishop paused, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a lopsided grin.  How could I forget? 

As I floated back into my apartment in a haze of happiness, I replayed the night over and over in my mind.  Well okay, not the whole night.  Not Kursik attacking me, or Jakob’s sudden but violent appearance, but all the other bits involving Bishop chasing me down to make sure I was alright and finally kissing me like he meant it.  There was no doubt in my mind now, definitely a boyfriend.

Of course that didn’t mean I wasn’t still living under a dark cloud anymore.  Jakob’s unpredictability and violent nature still posed a problem, as well as trying to fit my undead lifestyle into my regular collegiate one.  But at least I could enjoy the rainbow of hope I’d been given.  Not only had Bishop admitted to having actual feelings for me, he’d also opened up about his past more than he ever had before.  Okay, so there were still a bazillion things I wanted to know about him and his past, but I could be patient.  We had an eternity to learn about each other, right? 

If Jakob showed up again to stick his nose into my business, I would politely decline him and hopefully he’d move on to some other girl with blonde hair and blue eyes that reminded him of Carys, or whatever floated his boat.  Of course, that sent a niggling doubt into my mind that the only reason Bishop wanted me was because I reminded him of Carys as well, but I conveniently smothered it the instant it reared its ugly head.  I went to bed, hopeful for the future, convinced everything would be different now that Bishop and I were on the same page with open communication between us.  Everything would be different.  Boy, what an understatement...

Chapter Two

Nothing changed when I woke up, it was right back into my old routine.  There were no classes to attend, so I got to sleep in until dusk, which I admit, felt great after taking the stims to stay awake every day all week.  I had choir rehearsals every day of the week, which suited me fine.  I’d been working myself up to auditioning for a solo part thanks to Professor Matthews’ encouragement, and it was the last night to try out.  Bridget proved to be dead to the world when I woke up, so I left her a note on the coffee table to text me if she felt like hanging out later and headed out into the night. 

Can I just say, one of the perks of being a vampire is definitely the resistance to the cold?  Or heat too, I guess.  All I know is, I didn’t have to worry about keeping my vocal chords warm on the way to the campus, and I could get away with a light denim jacket despite the chill in the air.  I could have gone out in a tank top and shorts if I didn’t think it would catch a few stares. 

The auditorium was already full by the time I got there, thanks to my late wake up time, and I waved to my friends on the risers with a cheery smile as I made my way up the aisle.  My sensitive ears picked up snippets of conversation along the way.

No, it’s too flat, you sound like Kermit the frog...

Try it with more vibrato...

Eewh, you should probably see a doctor before it spreads any more...

My eyes snapped up at that last to try and match the voice, and found Denise frowning at Kenny, who scratched at his arm absently.  Ick.  Instead of taking my place among the sopranos, I waited behind Professor Matthews until he was free, butterflies dancing in my stomach as I tried to psyche myself up for it.  Instead of his usual smile, Matthews barely gave me a disinterested glance, digging through a stack of sheet music. 

Um, hi... Professor Matthews? I tried with a smile. I wanted to let you know I thought about what you said.  I think I do want to try out for that solo piece you mentioned.  The auditioning ordeal sounded less and less scary after the week I’d had. 

I’ve already filled the spot, go and take your place, he replied without even looking up at me. 

What? I blinked, unaccustomed to being blown off by the supportive little man.  Usually he bent over backwards to make us all feel like we had talent in our own individual ways.  Always full of tips and tricks from years of experience, Professor Matthews was a favorite on campus as one of the few teachers who still loved music just as much after forty years of teaching as he had starting out.  He hadn’t even held the auditions yet and the spot was already taken?

Your voice isn’t well suited for solos, Anja, we’ve talked about this before.  That time he did look up at me, brows pinched together in annoyance.  Now go and take your place on the risers, you’re holding up the class.

Acutely aware of how quiet the auditorium had gotten, I felt everyone’s eyes upon me.  I’m sorry, my lips moved, barely making a sound as I scurried off to my place.  Leona and Ivy wore twin looks of sympathy on their faces, which was a hair better than the pity I saw on the other faces as I squeezed into my spot.  The only person who had the nerve to give me a suck it smile was Melissa.  What the heck had I ever done to her to deserve that look? 

Settle down, people, we’re losing time. Professor Matthews tapped the edge of his podium impatiently – another odd trait, maybe he was having an off day?  We’ll begin with a warm up as usual, but first, I would like to announce the soloists for the program next month.  I listened with interest as he read from the short list of names.  Most of them were no surprise, until he got to the end, the spot I’d wanted and suddenly Melissa’s smug look made sense.

It totally should have been you, Anja, Ivy leaned over to whisper. 

It’s okay, she’ll be great, I whispered back.  Congratulations, I said a little louder with a positive smile in Melissa’s direction, but it faltered at seeing her smug look of triumph that bordered on the obnoxious.  For some reason she’d made it her personal agenda to make me feel like crap about it. 

Don’t worry, Anja, the world needs back up singers too, Melissa snarked back, amid titters of laughter. 

Harsh, Ivy hissed, angrier on my behalf than I was.  Mostly I felt bewildered by the way they both treated me.  Maybe I’d missed one too many rehearsals and Matthews had given up on me? 

Time to focus, class.  You can all congratulate Melissa later, the teacher called us to order.  Again I had to wonder, why all the focus on Melissa?  There were three other students given solo spots, why single her out?  It was like they both had an axe to grind with me. 

Matthews has flipped his lid, you should’ve gotten it, Leona whispered as we started through the scales. 

It’s fine, you know how I get singing by myself anyway, I shrugged it off, trying to focus on warm ups.

I know, but you’re way better than her.

Totally better, Ivy nodded.

I don’t have the spare time for the extra rehearsals anyway.  Matthews glared at us then, and I tried to pretend like I’d been singing the whole time.  The rest of the rehearsal dragged on for an eternity and I took no joy in the music.  Do you ever have those nights where you just feel... off?  For a singer it translates into a lackluster performance, and after delivering a real clunker of a note, I decided to throw in the towel for the night, doing little more than moving my lips for the duration of the practice.  Neither of my friends seemed to notice my withdrawal, though I did catch Melissa giving me dirty looks more than once.  Instead of being annoyed with her change in attitude, I decided to ignore her.  After the high drama I’d been through with the vampire crowd, it all seemed so... petty.

Begging off hanging out with them after rehearsal, I didn’t feel like going home either.  Checking my phone, I saw there wasn’t a message from Bridget, and my fingers hovered over the screen, wondering if it would seem too needy if I called Bishop.  So far he hadn’t called, but it was early by vampire standards, and I didn’t want to bug him if he was caught up in Order business. 

I decided to pop down to The Bleeding Hart and see if I could manage to run into Bishop casually without looking like a stalker.  Once again my thoughts turned to Bridget, wanting a little company to cheer me up, but considering her behavior the last time I’d taken her to the Hart, I decided to go it alone. 

The Bleeding Hart was San Francisco’s premiere vampire bar.  Well okay, it was the only vampire bar I’d been to, so my view was a little biased.  I loved the old school woodwork and leather booths, and they actually played music I recognized half the time, unlike some of the crazy bars Bridget tried to drag me to.  The favorite watering hole of vampires and humans alike, they sold regular drinks, not blood on tap or anything silly like that.  I’d struck up a friendship of sorts with the owners Leander and Jarrod, twins with outrageous personalities and even more remarkable fashion sense.  So it was no surprise when they immediately burst into radiant smiles the moment I arrived.

I didn’t expect the total silence the bar slipped into the moment I stepped over the threshold.  I’d been the shiny new toy for the gregarious vamps to fawn over since my very first visit to the bar, but people actually backed away from me as I crossed the room.  Not like I had leprosy and needed to be avoided, but like... the way one never turns their back on royalty as a gesture of respect.  The room parted like the red sea, allowing me to pass unmolested to the bar. 

I nodded and smiled nervously, staring as Charisse, the waitress, actually genuflected to me in passing.  What the hell was going on?  Hey Scotty, I greeted the bartender, who gave me a dopey grin as though too tongue tied to respond (a little disconcerting coming from a guy with multiple facial piercings and neck tattoos).  Can I get a zombie, please?

All at once he snapped out of it, but his dopey smile remained.  Yeah, coming right up.  No charge.

No charge?  Sure, I’d been comped with free drinks my first night in the bar, but the novelty had worn off and I quickly became accustomed to paying my way.  What had changed? 

Naw, not for you... Scotty seemed to be searching for some mode of address to call me, coming up short. 

Anja? I prompted, laying stress on the pronunciation, Ahn-yah.  He couldn’t have forgotten my name, could he? 

Anja, he beamed, as if I’d done him a huge favor. 

You honor our humble establishment, a voice at my elbow sounded, and I turned to see one of the brothers in the middle of an elaborate bow. 

Oh, for goodness sake. I nudged him on the arm playfully, wondering who approached me, Jarrod or Leander?  Don’t be silly.  You know I love hanging out here.  Is there a special occasion or something?  Blondes get the first round free? I quipped, and his brother appeared on silent feet to offer me his arm.

Every visit from you is a special occasion, madam.  What my fool of a brother tried to say is, what’s ours is yours.  Your continued presence is the only payment we need.

Um, thank you... Leander, I guessed (he always did tend to dress in shades of purple and that night proved no different, down to the lavender suede shoes on his feet).  That’s sweet of you, but I don’t want to impose.

Oh, it’s no imposition, Jarrod insisted, offering his arm as well.  Your money’s no good here. He winked playfully and I took their arms, trusting Scotty to bring my drink when ready.  The pair led me back to their table, reminding me of the first night I’d come to the bar, all nervous and unsure what to expect.  Just when I thought I had a handle on the vampire scene, they went all crazy and I was back to square one. 

I was glad to see Rob at the table, relieved when he gave me a simple nod then turned his attention back to his beer, like always.  I’d gotten to see a lot of Rob lately since he’d started dating Bridget.  He looked like he always did, more stubble on his jaw than on his closely shaven head, in blue jeans and a tight t-shirt.  His muscular form leaned back casually, but there was nothing casual in the way his eyes took in the bar.  Alert, they missed nothing. 

Despite the air of menace that surrounded him (and drew Bridget like a bee to honey), I found his presence calming, feeling instinctively that he had my back.  Clinging to that rock of normalcy, I slid into the circular booth beside him, giving him an apologetic smile when I joggled his arm and the beer sloshed over the side of the glass.  Sorry.

S’alright, he replied in his gravely voice with the lilt of a British accent roughened by the streets.  No use crying over spilt beer, especially when they keep ‘em coming.

I barely had time to murmur a reply when my attention was seized by the twins, chattering my ears off.  They seemed bent on outdoing each other with entertaining stories, trying to steal my interest away from each other.  A small crowd gathered around the booth, at first just listening, and then joining in on the friendly competition, each trying to catch my eye. 

It was exhausting.

I smiled and nodded enthusiastically at first, but had to pace myself, my cheeks already growing tired from the effort.  Whatever the reason, everyone in the room seemed hell-bent on currying my favor. 

All except for one. 

Serena sat in the corner of the room staring daggers at me, Cole in the seat beside her, looking with longing at the crowd gathered around me.  Every time my court of admirers laughed at something I said, I saw her shoulders hunch as if I’d lobbed a shuriken between them.  Finally, she got up and stalked out of the room, dragging Cole along by the arm and I breathed a sigh of relief, not looking for any more confrontation for the night. 

Not that I was afraid of Serena, but I wanted to be on my best behavior just in case Bishop put in an appearance.  Though, could I stand it if we had an actual conversation without him scolding me for anything?  So far it hadn’t happened, so it was hard to tell. 

I was distracted by the umpteenth surreptitious check to see if Bishop had arrived by a body blocking my view of pretty much everything.  Looking up, I was startled to see a bright smile coming from a pretty, if slightly vacuous, brunette.  Definitely human, she smelled like cotton candy.

Mr. Vaughn sends his regards.  He’d like you to enjoy a drink.

Oh.  Well, thank Mr. Vaughn, but I’m good. I raised my glass in his direction.  I’d already been through two zombies and my head was a little spinny anyway. 

Mr. Vaughn thought you might like a sip of the good stuff, she kept right on smiling, reaching up to pull off a band-aid from her neck, a dangerous thing to do in a bar full of vampires.  Mr. Vaughn must not have cared too much about his companion’s need to keep breathing. 

Fangs snicked out all around me at the sight of the twin puncture wounds on her neck, thankfully scabbed over, or I might have been the first one to lunge for the poor girl.  I hadn’t