Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down (31 page)

“Tell... Isak...” he wheezed, but that was all he got out.  As I watched, Gunnar dissolved in front of me, the ACBT spreading through his system like wildfire. 

“No!” I yelled louder, barely able to scramble out from under him as his body turned to ash.  “Gunnar!” I sobbed, but he was gone. 

More gunfire erupted, and I looked up to see Maggie screaming on the other side of the porch, pinned down behind the dubious shelter of the railing.  Tucker had wolfed out and stood beside her protectively, the side of his muzzle keeping her down. 

“Inside!” Bishop hissed, and I tracked him crouching behind a low hedge, guns drawn. 

I gave him a short nod, and when he started shooting, I ran for the front door, but not before I grabbed Maggie under the arms and dragged her inside with me.  Once we were safely inside the house, Tucker bounded off, in the direction of the gunfire.  “Bishop!” I called out, getting as close to the door as I dared.  Why hadn’t he made a run for it after us?

“Tucker, where’s Tucker?” Maggie wailed as soon as she realized we were alone in the house, and I had to catch hold of her before she ran out after him. 

“He’s out there keeping you safe,” I said, stroking her hair as soothingly as I could, but my hands shook.  I wanted to run out there myself and drag Bishop in too, but all we could do was wait and try to listen over the sounds of our ragged breathing.  It’d gone awfully quiet out there, and I didn’t know if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. 

A crashing sound at the back door made us both jump, and I motioned for her to stay down as I crept toward the rear entrance.  The moon revealed a shadow on the back porch, big and man shaped, a great target if I’d been armed, but my shiny new gun was down in my bedroom, where I hadn’t moved it since Christmas.  Sure, I could go down and get it, but I didn’t want to leave Maggie alone, even for an instant. 

And then I heard it, the sound of pebbles hitting the kitchen window.  “Anja... I can’t get in unless you invite me.”

“Bishop?”  Gorram it, had I forgotten to invite him in, in all the craziness? “Bishop, get in here!  You’re invited,” I called out, and he shouldered the door open seconds later. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over me quickly and efficiently, checking for wounds.

“I’m fine, I’m not the one out there getting shot at.  You?”

He didn’t bother to answer, already moving through the house with purposeful strides.  “Get down,” he barked over his shoulder as I moved to follow.  “There are at least two shooters, one working with the darts and the other with regular bullets.  Carter’s out there sniffing them out with Tucker’s help, and I want...”

A yelp of pain cut through the stillness, and Maggie leapt up from her hiding place.  “That’s Tucker!” she cried, starting for the door. 

“Both of you stay inside until I come back for you.”  There was a burst of compulsion in his voice that Maggie responded to in an instant, but I wasn’t the least bit affected, of course. 

“You’re not going back out there, are you?” I demanded, following him to the door. 

“Carter needs my help.”

“Then let’s both go together and we’ll end this that much sooner.”

Bishop didn’t even consider my suggestion, going on as if I hadn’t spoken.  “The house should protect you until I’m back as long as you stay away from the windows.  Stay inside, I’ll go out the back and circle around.” 

“But...”

He turned to face me, his face twisted with anguish.  “Anja, promise me you’ll stay inside.”

I didn’t have to.  He wasn’t strong enough to stop me, not anymore, but I saw the truth in his eyes.  If I went out there, his concentration would be split between catching the shooter and keeping me safe, and that distraction could get him killed. 

“Okay, just be careful.”

Bishop took precious seconds to lean in and press his lips to mine in a brief kiss.  “I love you,” he said, and I didn’t much care for the look in his eyes, as if he’d already made peace with the idea that he might never see me again. 

“Prove it,” I demanded, my chin coming up in a challenge.  “Come back to me.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up into a half smile.  “Yes, ma’am.”  And then he was gone, out the door faster than I could track. 

“Do you think Tucker’s alright?” Maggie whimpered, and I huddled beside her on the ground, wrapping my arms around her. 

“I’m sure he’s fine.  Shifters are made of tough stuff.”  I didn’t mention a word about how they’d brought Lee down.  I didn’t think she’d seen the darts, and there was no point in worrying her any worse than she already was.  “I’m betting that’s why there’s been no more gunfire.  My money’s on Tucker, and he’s been busy tearing his throat out ever since.”

“I hope not,” she ventured with a sniff, and I smiled over her tenderheartedness.  Once I’d been the same way, but the more people kept trying to kill me, the harder it was to argue that every life was sacred.  “We’ll want to question him before we kill him,” she added matter-of-factly, and I laughed as I hugged her tight.

“Oh Maggie, what would I ever do without you?”

“I expect the same as you’ll do without Gunnar and Lee,” she replied with a forlorn note to her voice.  “I don’t understand...”

“Neither do I, Maggie.  Neither do I.”

A familiar whistle sounded – Carter’s all clear, a signal we’d used in the field before.  I ventured a peep up to the window and spotted him frog marching a guy up the front walk.  The shooter’s mouth was stuffed full of his own dirty socks, and his hands were bound with the shoelaces from his missing boots.  The guy looked vaguely familiar, dressed in dark clothes, a black watchcap covering his auburn curls, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him before. 

Mindful of my promise to Bishop, I ducked just my head out the door.  “Is it safe to come out?  What about the other guy?”

“Gone,” Carter called out, changing his direction to bring his prisoner to the rear of the house for interrogation, I assumed, since he couldn’t be allowed inside.

“Where’s Tucker?” Maggie cried, and Carter jerked his head backwards. 

“Bishop’s bringing him.”

“Bringing him?  Oh Lord, he’s hurt, isn’t he?”

Carter didn’t reply, he kept dragging the guy to the back courtyard.  Bishop appeared at the end of the walkway, carrying Tucker in his arms.  The shifter had reverted back to human form, naked, and passed out.

I expected the injury to be pretty horrific, given the fact that he’d lost consciousness, but the wound was less than an inch long.  “It doesn’t look too bad, why can’t he walk?” I wondered aloud. 

“He has silver poisoning.”

Sure enough, I could see spidery, dark lines radiating out from the wound as he got closer.  “Like Lee?” I gasped, wondering if it was too late for the young shifter too.

“No, it looks like they got him with a silver dagger and the damage is much more localized.  He’ll need treatment though.”

“What do we do?”

“Beats the hell out of me, I’m no shifter,” Bishop replied irritably, leaning against the wall.

“Are you alright?”  He didn’t look like he’d been shot anywhere, but he seemed a lot more worn out than he should be.

“I’m fine.” 

Maggie gave a mournful sigh.  “I’ll bet Lee knew of a way to counteract silver poisoning.”

Not that it’d done him any good.  “I know, we’ll call Kane.” 

“Yes, that’s brilliant!”  Maggie’s face lit with hope.  “He’ll know what to do.”

Luckily, I had Kane’s number on my desk, and the shifter answered right away.  “Somebody better be dead if you’re calling me this early,” he growled, and I took a quick steadying breath before I snapped back at him.  After all, he didn’t know.

“Somebody did die, and I need your help to keep Tucker from dying as well.”

His manner changed abruptly, alert and all business.  “What happened?”

I gave him a brief rundown of Tucker’s injuries, leaving out the particulars of Lee’s death for now.  He’d find out soon enough, and I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it yet. 

“I’d better come right down.  In the meantime, look around for some whiskey or vodka if you’ve got it.”

“Why, for sterilization purposes?  We have a well stocked first aid kit.”

“No, he’s gonna want a drink before I get started.  What I have to do is gonna hurt like fuck.” 

“Kane’s coming over to help,” I reported as I rejoined them in the living room.  “I forgot to ask if we should move him.  Do you think we should keep him on the couch or move him up to his bedroom?” I turned to Bishop, only to find his face covered in a sheen of sweat.  “Bishop?

He stumbled and fell to his knees, taking out an end table on his way down. 

“Bishop, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” he grunted, fingers scrabbling at the buttons of his shirt, but his hands shook too much to manage it. 

“That is not nothing.  Sweet zombie Jesus... what was in that dart you got hit with?”

“I didn’t stop to ask anyone,” he laughed weakly.  “It’s okay, I had my vest on.”

Brushing his hands out of the way, I tore open his shirt, never so glad to see the tactical vest in my life.  “I don’t get it, if you had your vest on, then why are you so messed up?”  I ripped at the Velcro and the t-shirt beneath it, sucking in a breath when I saw the wound below.  The teensiest tip of the dart had punctured the vest, and the skin around the puncture was angry and red.  “Is that what I think it is?”

“It’s not that bad, my body’s fighting it,” he groaned. 

“I’d say it’s losing,” I muttered, pulling him up to lean against the bottom of a wingback chair.  It wasn’t silver nitrate, that wouldn’t have fazed his vampire physiology.  It had to be ACBT, a tiny amount.  “We have to do something.”  It was spreading, that much was obvious, albeit slowly, without a heartbeat to pump it through his body. 

In a flash of insight, I grabbed one of the knives strapped to his boot and slashed him across the chest, making a tiny criss-cross, like you do with a snake bite.  I had no idea if it would work or not, but I planted my mouth over the wound and sucked, spitting out the poison into an empty vase.  Bishop frowned down at me at first when I cut him, but the second my mouth closed over the wound, his head tipped back with a deep sigh of pleasure.  With each time I drew against his flesh, he held me closer, fingers sinking into my hair, and his pants bulged with unmistakable interest. 

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this,” I frowned, after I spit out another mouthful of poisoned blood.

“You started it,” he panted, and I couldn’t tell if his cheeks had more color because I was getting the poison out, or because I was making him happy in his pants. 

“Do you think it’s helping?”

“Yes, definitely,” he nodded.  “Don’t stop.”

I punched him lightly in the shoulder when I saw the hint of a smile curve his lips, but I went back to suck at the wound for a couple more tries, to be sure I had it all.  “I think you should probably take some of my blood, to be on the safe side,” I suggested after rinsing my mouth out. 

“If you want me to return the favor, all you have to do is ask.  But now might not be the best time for that kind of a distraction.”

Did he think he was being funny?  “Do you seriously think I’m in the mood to get grindy after what happened here tonight?”  Lee’s body was still out on the porch and all that was left of Gunnar was ashes.  That didn’t put me in the sexiest of moods.  “I’m trying to keep you alive, dummy.  You’ve seen what ACBT does to a body up close and personal.  If there’s any trace of it left in your system...”

“No, I’m sorry,” he said with a shake of the head.  “I didn’t mean... I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.  That was just distracting, what you did with your mouth, and... sorry.”

“Never mind, just take the blood.”  I thrust my wrist at him, and he lifted it to his lips.  There was no seduction, no preamble, his lips brushed over mine in the faintest of kisses before his fangs sank deep.  And then I was the one breathing heavily, clutching the arm of the chair as he drank from me.  Despite the pain and heartache of losing those I loved, I couldn’t deny my body’s reaction to what he was doing, even though it was to preserve his life. 

Through the haze of pleasure, I heard Kane’s arrival, and Maggie letting him into the house.  I heard his low whistle at inspecting Tucker’s injury, and the brief discussion on flushing it out with alcohol.  I scented the blood in the air as Kane cut away the infected area where Tucker had been stabbed, and the foul smelling poultice he’d brought with him to draw the rest of the toxins from the wound. 

“Thank you.”  Bishop’s low words brought me back to reality as he kissed my wrist, licking away the last of the blood as the puncture marks healed themselves. 

It took me a second to compose myself, but soon enough I could focus enough to speak.  “How are you?  Do you think it was enough, or do you need to see your doctor for a transfusion?”

“I think it’s fine.  Only a tiny bit got into me before I pulled the dart out, I promise.  How about you?  I didn’t take too much, did I?  Do you need blood?”

“No, I’m good.”  I’d need to eat soon, but I could function.  At least, my body could, my heart wouldn’t heal so easily.  I sat there watching Kane wrap up Tucker’s thigh with less than gentle hands, quick and efficient.  The shifter looked up, caught my eyes on him, and gave me a quick, reassuring wink. 

“He’ll be alright,” Bishop was quick to comfort me as well.  “I’ve seen shifters survive far worse damage before.  You’d be surprised what they can heal.” 

“But not Lee,”  I murmured.  It didn’t make sense.  Lee didn’t have any enemies, not with the local pack, and there wasn’t even a whiff of Hunters in the area.  And my prankster at the party aside, I had no really dangerous enemies that I knew of.  “Why?”  It was the only word I could get out as it hit me, and Bishop gathered me into his arms. 

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”

C
arter had the shooter out in the back courtyard, hogtied and tipped over on his side.  One half of his face was battered and bloodied, his eye completely swollen shut, the other stared up at us wildly, his mouth still full of a soggy sock.  There were rivulets of blood streaming from various wounds where Carter had cut him in all the most sensitive spots on the body – not enough to maim, but definitely to weaken his body as well as his spirit.