Forget Me When the Sun Goes Down (Forged Bloodlines Book 11) (26 page)
Read Forget Me When the Sun Goes Down (Forged Bloodlines Book 11) Online
Authors: Lisa Olsen
“Can’t you at least give me a hint where we’re going?”
I handed Hanna her socks after rolling them into tight bundles she could stuff into her shoes. “It’s a surprise, that’s all Bishop will tell me.” She’d loved the idea of going to see our parents, and immediately decided they’d come along.
“Well, should I pack a bikini or a burka?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know. Knowing Mom and Dad, it’s probably not somewhere tropical, but I honestly have no idea. Besides, you can always buy what you need once we get there.”
“Not all of us are gazillionaires like you and Bishop,” she pointed out. “Mason’s been on leave from the Order for over a year, and I haven’t done more than a couple of websites for friends.”
It’d never occurred to me, I’d always assumed that Mason had enough to tide them over or he wouldn’t have left the Order. Of course, he was a lot younger than Bishop, so it made sense he wouldn’t have as much socked away. “If you need money...”
“No, we’ll be fine. But it’s probably time to stop gallivanting around and settle down somewhere.”
“Are you going back to San Francisco?”
“I don’t know. That’s something we need to figure out.” Her expression darkened. “I don’t have the best memories there.”
“But there are some good memories too, right?”
Hanna avoided the question, asking me one of her own. “Is that where you guys are headed after we visit with our parents?”
“I’m not sure. We were sort of winging it before we got the call from Nell. I guess it’s time for us to do some thinking about the future too.”
Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Speaking of. Mason and I were talking last night. How would you feel about a side trip to Vegas after we see the fam?”
“Because you have a burning need for gambling and all you can eat buffets?”
“We were thinking more of the honeymoon in Vegas stuff.”
“You want to get married in Las Vegas?” After more than a year of planning her perfect ceremony? Where was this coming from?
“Sure, why not? It’s the perfect place for a vampire wedding, they’re open all night. And maybe we’ll get lucky and win a big pile of cash? I didn’t do too badly on our trip to Mexico.”
“What happened to all those plans you were making with Maggie? I thought you were searching for the perfect flowers, cake, dress, all those things?”
“I decided I was getting too hung up on the trappings. The important thing isn’t all the stuff, it’s that we’re getting married. I don’t need any of the frosting, I just need my man on one side and my sister on the other. Will you come?”
How could I say no to that? It wasn’t my notion of an ideal wedding, but as long as it made my sister happy, I was game. “Of course. I’m sure Bishop will be fine with a detour. What about Mom and Dad though?”
“That’s the part I haven’t worked out yet. I can’t decide if I want to try and include them or not. It’ll be weird seeing them again, won’t it?”
“Especially since they won’t have a clue who we are, yep. I know we talked about leaving them in the dark for their own safety, but if you want, we can always remove the compulsion so they remember us again.”
“No, you’re right. They’re a lot safer not knowing, even now that you’re not the Elder anymore. We would’ve had to disappear eventually anyway now that we’re both vampires.”
“Maybe it’ll be better this way? We can meet them like adults instead of disappointing children.”
Her brows twitched together with concern. “They were never disappointed with you, An.”
“Um, have you met them?” My father especially had never made a secret of what he’d wanted my life to be, and how I’d disappointed him at every turn.
“Who cares what they think?” she shrugged. “It’s your life, live it the way you want to.”
I had been, but there was always a part of me that wondered what my life would’ve been like if I’d followed their rules. Where would I be now? I’d have my degree, possibly teaching music, or maybe even performing on stage. Not that I thought I’d ever have much of a solo career without Jakob’s influence, my stage fright had been way too severe for that. I might’ve been happy with that sort of life. Less people would’ve died, that was for sure. But I never would’ve met Bishop, and I never would’ve found the strength to be more than my parents wanted for me.
“Hello, Earth to Anja...”
“What?”
“I said can you hand me my hairbrush?”
“Oh, right, sure. Do you ever wonder what your life would’ve been like if you’d never met Mason?”
“Yep, and it sucks ass.”
“Then you’re really okay being a vampire?”
“Yeah, I’m getting a handle on it. I mean, sure I miss getting a tan in the summer, but I would’ve ended up with leathery wrinkles and melanoma anyway. But the not getting any older doesn’t suck, and I look fantastic in candlelight. And best of all, I get to spend eternity with my man. What’s better than that?”
I had to agree with her there. “Yeah, what’s better than that,” I smiled.
Still, I knew I couldn’t keep wandering aimlessly seeing the world. At some point I needed to settle down and do something with my life, even if it was going back to school or starting some kind of business. I just had to figure out what it was.
* * *
“Already I miss you,” Jakob said with a sad smile as we loaded up our belongings into the rental cars.
“Well, if you find yourself somewhere with a cell signal, you can always give me a call,” I reminded him.
Handshakes were exchanged by the men, and Hanna gave him a sort of half wave from a safe distance. It was easy to see the
Ellri
made her nervous, and he didn’t press for more. Jakob drew me aside as Mason and Bishop looked over the map.
“Did you decide what boon you would have of me?”
I’d completely forgotten about that. I thought about asking for my ability to compel other vampires again, but decided in the end that was more trouble than it was worth. My gaze settled on Bishop, who was busy laying out the course like a general about to invade enemy ground. “No, I have everything I need,” I smiled.
“Be well, Anja. Someday we will meet again.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, given the way he threw my life into chaos, but I mustered up a smile. “Until someday,” I said, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
Mason and Hanna got a head start, taking the first car ahead for the drive to the airport in Florø. We drove along at a leisurely pace, plenty of hours left in the night and the open road before us.
There was one thing we hadn’t talked about yet since everything had settled down, and I figured it was as good a time as any to bring it up.
“So, ah... you were going to propose?”
Bishop’s eyes widened, caught completely off guard by the topic. He rubbed the back of his head, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “Yeah, about that. Carys wore the ring, so I was thinking...”
“I don’t care about the ring,” I interrupted him. “I care about the part that goes with it.”
“You do.” He digested that for a moment, pulling the car over to the side of the road. “So you would be receptive to a conversation involving a ring?”
Yes, a thousand times yes!
the little voice inside me jumped up and down for joy, but I managed to keep my cool. “I’m not up for a trip to Mordor, but a different kind of ring...”
His lips curved, face softening as he turned to me. “A forever kind of ring...”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that kind of a conversation,” I smiled back.
Bishop swallowed, turning back to face the road, his fingers releasing and grasping the steering wheel again as he took in a discreet breath. “Okay then, that’s good to know.” He pulled out onto the road again, putting us back on course.
I turned my gaze to the spectacular view out the window, unable to keep the smile off my face.
Good to know, indeed
.
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Moonsong
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Books by Lisa Olsen:
Chase the Moon (announced)
The Company Series:
The Fallen Series:
Forged Bloodlines Series:
Wake Me When the Sun Goes Down
Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down
Find Me When the Sun Goes Down
Miss Me When the Sun Goes Down
Follow Me When the Sun Goes Down
Hear Me When the Sun Goes Down
Release Me When the Sun Goes Down
Trust Me When the Sun Goes Down
Tempt Me When the Sun Goes Down
Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down
Forget Me When the Sun Goes Down
Book 12 (announced)
The Vampire Diaries:
For more information, visit the author’s website at
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Chapter One
West.
“Just keep driving west ’til you hit water. I’m serious, Millie, don’t slow down for more than a pit stop ’til you get there, or they’ll find you. And they’ll never stop coming...”
Amelia could still hear Luc’s voice, low and urgent in the darkness as he practically pulled her from bed in the dead of night. It took everything she had to keep her concentration on the road and away from the dark memories that threatened to swallow her whole. How long had it been? Somehow it felt so much longer than the night before. Millie couldn’t dwell on that, doing her best to keep her focus on the road ahead. Despite the ache in her foot from the constant thrum of the accelerator, she’d do her damnedest to follow Luc’s advice, it was the least she could do after his sacrifice. Her Jeep pointed resolutely west, eating up the miles as she went as fast as she dared, given her lack of sleep.
Nearly twenty hours she’d been on the road, stopping only to fill up the red Jeep and her stomach with gas station food. The time for coffee was long past; Amelia had moved on to energy shot drinks, desperate to stay alert long enough to reach the elusive sanctuary with the grandmother she’d never met.
Though how a grandmother could keep her safe from those animals…
Her gaze darted to the rearview mirror, checking for signs of pursuit, a soft snort escaping when she realized she had
no idea
how to actually spot a tail, since her experience was strictly limited to old reruns of
Charlie’s Angels
. Catching sight of her dark eyes in the mirror, they blinked back at her, red rimmed and puffy from crying. Well, that was to be expected when she’d spent most of the past twenty-four hours blubbering like a little girl. It wasn’t like she normally cried at the drop of a hat, Millie hated showing any weakness in front of others. A little surprised she even had tears left, she looked away quickly as they misted over again, focusing on the road.
After a well meaning convenience store clerk offered to call the cops for her if she needed help, she had to take a few minutes to straighten her appearance as best she could in the dingy bathroom. Amelia pulled fingers through wildly tangled hair that normally hung down her back in long chestnut waves. A quick wash of the face made her pale skin less blotchy from crying, and a fevered bit of scrubbing made the spatters of blood on her shirt look more like old barbecue sauce, which they
so
were not.
If it was unusual for a girl to be out on the road by herself in the middle of the night without a coat or socks, Millie tried to carry it off with deliberate casualness, thankful for the mild weather. But her eyes – no amount of cool water or cold compresses could remove the haunted look from eyes that had seen more horrors in the past twenty-four hours than anyone had a right to bear.
West. She had to keep going west and find her grandmother in a place called Cutter’s Folly, that was all she could focus on for the moment. Once she got there, well, then she’d have to worry about how to find the woman she’d never laid eyes on. Then she could fall apart and really grieve.
* * *
The wide open expanses of the desert gradually gave way to the mountainous, tree covered terrain once she hit California. Tired as she was, Amelia almost missed the exit sign that led to Cutter’s Folly. Slamming on the brakes, she guided the sturdy Jeep onto the narrow road, grateful for the deserted highway or she would’ve ended up causing an accident for sure.
The canopy of surrounding woods instantly swallowed the moon’s pale light, the headlights straining to cut through the inky darkness. “Not at all creepy,” she murmured, following the twisting road, not daring to go any faster than the posted speed limit.
The trees grew less dense as she neared the town, and Amelia found the oppressive gloom of the forest fading. Of course, that left plenty of room for more mundane worries. Other than her grandmother’s first name, she had no idea whatsoever how to find the woman. No idea what she looked like, or even if she was still alive except for the absolute certainty in her brother’s voice. Cutter’s Folly was barely a blip on the map she’d bought at the last gas station. How hard could it be to find a woman in a town that size? Especially one where she’d lived all her life?
Apparently harder than she’d thought.
At eight p.m. most of the shops lining the main street were dark or locked up tight, as was the gas station. Not that Tres Cruces, New Mexico had been a thriving metropolis. At least they had their share of twenty-four hour gas stations and mini marts, and even a decent bar or two. There were a few people out strolling on foot in Cutter’s Folly, but Millie was leery of approaching total strangers on the street to ask after her grandmother with Luc’s warning still ringing in her ears.
As she continued to the end of the main thoroughfare, the only place that showed any signs of life was a pub called The Muddy Rudder, decorated in a fisherman’s motif. Muted strains of The Grateful Dead punctuated by rowdy laughter drifted on the night breeze as she neared the heavy, wooden door, pulling on it with a soft groan. The moment she stepped into the bar, conversation died as all eyes swung towards her.
Sure a girl likes to be looked at, but this is ridiculous.
Resisting the urge to scowl at the nosiest patrons, Amelia pasted on a tight smile as she made her way to the bar, hoping some of the interest would fade in a minute or two. A thick lipped bartender shuffled over, openly gaping at her as he swabbed the bar with a rag that had seen better days. “Help you, miss?”
“Ah... yes, cup of coffee, please?” Amelia gave him a polite smile, noting with dismay that there were no Visa or MasterCard logos anywhere by the ancient cash register. There went more of her precious cash. She could only hope she’d have better luck at the local motel or she’d be sleeping in the back of her jeep.
“Coffee…” he repeated, staring at her as if she’d spoken a foreign language.
“Yeah, coffee? Anything hot really.”
The bartender scratched behind his ear. “I got hot cider. That be alright, miss?”
Hot cider. She hadn’t had hot cider in years. “Sure, that sounds fine,” she nodded, letting him off the hook, and he shuffled off to fetch her drink.
Conversation in the bar started up again in muted tones, and though not everyone stared so much anymore, there were still an inordinate amount of glances in her direction. Refusing to let them cow her, she stared back brazenly at anyone she caught looking. The cider delivered a minute later, Millie savored the warmth of the mug and the spices that tickled her nose. Closing her eyes to the outside world, she allowed herself a moment of liquid comfort.
Feeling decidedly warmer and rapidly losing her inhibitions at talking to complete strangers, Amelia decided to get down to business. “Excuse me, sir?” she called out to the bartender again. “I wonder if you can help me find somebody here in town.”
The bartender’s bushy brows rose a fraction as he set down the carafe. “Who are you looking for?”
“My grandmother, Adele. She’s, ah… in her early sixties, I think.” Amelia frowned. She had no idea how old the woman actually was or what she looked like. The bartender reverted back to staring again, and she began to wonder if he was a little slow between the ears. “She had a son named Remy but he moved away before I was born… Did I say something wrong?” The furrow across her brow deepened as the bartender backed away from her, eyes fixed on a point over her shoulder. “Now what?” she muttered.
“You’ll have to forgive Hugo, he doesn’t get to talk to pretty girls very often. He’s a bit shy,” a low voice offered at her ear.
Startled by the close proximity, Amelia flinched, sloshing the hot cider onto her lap. With a hiss, she grabbed a cocktail napkin to swab up the mess. “That’s a really good trick, sending a girl to the burn unit. Do you get a lot of dates this way?” she scowled instinctively before her eyes lifted.
To say he was good looking would be an understatement, with his long, lean form and broad shoulders. A dark, intense gaze came from beneath sun-streaked brown hair that almost reached his chin in a dangerous, unkempt look that probably took him the better part of an hour to cultivate. The perfect tilt of his lips proved he was well aware of the whole package he projected, almost predatory in nature. It didn’t matter one bit that Millie knew his type, it didn’t make her immune to the power of that smile. She was smart enough to keep it to herself though, as she cleaned up the spilled drink.
“To be fair, most girls are drinking something cool, not hot. So… I can’t say I’ve been disappointed in the number of tops removed at a good accidental spill,” he smirked. “But I’m sorry if you were hurt.”
“Yeah well, I’m not stripping down to my panties, so…” she lobbed back, tossing the wadded napkin onto the bar, trying not to smile back and failing miserably. “I’m alright. The cider probably smells better than I do anyway.”
“For the record, I happen to think you smell delicious.” His grin turned wolfish, cementing her image of him as a predator. “Though by the look of things, it’s not your first food related casualty of the day.” He reached out to smooth his finger over the faint brown stain on the edge of her shirt, brows drawing together into a single dark line. “At least this one was without bloodshed.”
“How did you know it was blood?” It was her turn to stare in confusion and surprise. Ignoring her question, he continued to focus on the stains.
“It’s not your blood is it?”
“No, it’s not.” Millie dropped her gaze, not able to bring herself to offer more details to a total stranger in a bar. The hot cider had muted her pain for a few minutes, but the sight of Luc’s blood spattered on her shirt brought it all back in vivid detail. With an effort, she pushed it back into the private space in her heart to keep for later when she was alone.
“Look, I can respect the whole
on the make
thing you’ve got going on, but it’s really not a good time for me right now, okay? I’m looking for my grandmother. Her name is Adele, and she lives here in Cutter’s Folly. Do you happen to know who and where she is?” Her voice raw with emotion, Amelia pleaded with him to drop the smarmy pick up lines for the time being and recognize that she needed help. Thankfully, he seemed to catch on and nodded solemnly.
“I’m sorry, Amelie. Yes, I can take you to your grandmother. She’s…”
The door opened, and all eyes were riveted to the slight figure who stood there, commanding all with her steely gaze, carriage stiff and regal as though they were her subjects. If the room had fallen silent at Millie’s earlier entrance, it was nothing compared to the way everyone went perfectly still, as if not wanting to draw her attention.
What was it with the town?
“She’s right over there,” he finished, backing away.
“My name’s not Amelie…” Millie started to correct him before the door swung open again. It was pretty damn close to her name though, and she wondered what made him call her that, but those thoughts fizzled away at the sudden appearance of her grandmother. The old woman’s sharp gaze examined her critically, and Amelia simply stared back as the silver haired woman strode toward her.
Pausing directly in front of her, Adele’s haughty expression broke, warmth piercing those grey eyes. “Welcome home, my dear.” She reached out to touch Amelia’s chin, turning her face first one way and then the other. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal I’ll wager, but you’re safe now. You will always be safe in Cutter’s Folly.” Her voice rose at the last, more of a declaration to the room than a private conversation, though her gaze never left her granddaughter’s face.
“Grandmother,” Millie replied uneasily, not sure whether to hug her or genuflect. Not ever having had a grandmother around to bake cookies with, her expectations were murky to begin with, but Adele’s manner so far was just plain weird. Her mode of speech sounded oddly formal, as if English might not be her first language, but there wasn’t much of an accent to her voice.
Adele released the hold on her chin and beckoned to the door. “Come, it’s late, we have much to discuss,” she ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.
“Just a sec, I need to pay for my drink,” Millie protested, digging into her purse, but Adele waved away the concern, already leading her to the door.
“It will be taken care of.”
“Ah… okay.” A quick look back to Hugo the bartender confirmed he didn’t seem all that worried about getting paid, so she followed along, wondering what had happened to her predatory admirer. Not so suave now was he?
Afraid of a little old lady.
Assured that her Jeep would be retrieved, Amelia followed her to a bottle green Jaguar, sleek and posh in its lines. A pretty blonde girl, maybe a year younger than Amelia, opened the rear doors for them with a shy smile.
There was a moment’s hesitation before she climbed in beside the old woman, years of being told not to get into the car with strangers deeply ingrained into her psyche. But this wasn’t a stranger, Adele was her last known blood relative. Telling herself not to be such a baby, Amelia slid into the car with an answering smile for the blonde driver.
Once they were alone in the car, Amelia assumed her grandmother would warm up a little, maybe lose some of the starch in her spine. But Adele remained rigidly upright in her seat, silent for the entire drive. Uncomfortable, Millie looked for an opening to ask how she’d known to come and find her at the Muddy Rudder, or why everyone in town looked at her like some kind of Mafioso (or was it Mafiosa?), but there didn’t seem to be a good time to broach the subject. Besides, the sooner they started talking, the sooner she’d have to tell her about what happened, and Millie wasn’t in that big of a rush to get into it. Maybe she’d let her beg off until morning? It wasn’t like Adele was proving to be a big fan of conversation anyway.
