Tempt Me When the Sun Goes Down (6 page)

Carys wrenched her mouth away from Jakob, who suppressed a groan of disappointment.  “You’re not leaving me, are you, Ulrik?” she blinked up at him. 

The way she looked at him almost changed his mind, and he wondered if that was due to the compulsions she still held over him, or nothing more than nostalgia for a time long gone.  But every time she called him Ulrik, he was reminded of how far he’d come since living as her lapdog for the better part of a century. 

“That isn’t me anymore,” he said shortly.  “I left Ulrik behind hundreds of years ago, I’m known as Bishop now.  I have a new life, a new…”

“A new love?” she interrupted, arching a delicate brow only to change her mind.  “Perhaps not.  You don’t have that besotted puppy dog look of a man in love.”  Her lips pursed as she studied him.  “No, you look… far too intense.  It doesn’t suit you, Ulrik.”

“I told you, I’m Bishop now.”

“Not to me.”  The hint of a smile curved her lips, reminding him she knew him better than anyone else in the world.  No, she knew the man he’d been, not the man he was now.  It didn’t matter what she called him, Bishop wasn’t about to start jumping when she snapped her fingers again if he could help it.

“Look, you’ve got things in hand,” he said to Jakob.  “Keep the car, I’ll make my way back to town and make other arrangements.”  He took another step, and then another, his chest feeling tighter the farther away he got from her. 

“Car?” Carys blinked, unfamiliar with the term. 

Jakob straightened, holding Carys close as he stepped off the tomb’s raised dais to the soft ground below.  “Perhaps we’d better go up to the house and let Carys clean up and get some rest.  There is no need for you to run off so quickly, Ulrik. I should think you’d welcome the chance to attend to your Sire.”  His voice deceptively mild, there was no mistaking the command in his face when he stared Bishop down.  Bishop’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing, merely stepping aside to follow them up to the house.   

Carys chattered happily as they walked, full of a hundred questions, which Jakob answered patiently, with a smiling indulgence.  A piercing alarm went off when he forced the back door open, the house wired with a security system, and Carys clapped her hands over her ears, screaming until Bishop bypassed it a few seconds later.  Even after the alarm was silenced, Carys continued to wail, fat tears rolling down her cheeks at the fright, despite Jakob’s soothing words. 

“There is much for you to adjust to, my angel,” he crooned, stroking her hair until she quieted. 

The estate had lain mostly vacant for the better part of a century, with few updates beyond the addition of electricity and some modern appliances in the kitchen.  But it was elegantly appointed with high ceilings and lavish Edwardian furnishings.  Whatever provisions Lodinn had made for the place, the power was still on at least. 

“I’m sorry to be such a bother,” Carys sniffed, her cool fingers slipping inside Jakob’s shirt to brush against his chest.  “I’m sure I’ll feel so much better after a hot bath and a few hours sleep.”

“Of course you will,” Jakob agreed, kissing the top of her head, still carrying her as if she didn’t have the strength to walk on her own.  “Ulrik, go and fetch her something else to wear.”

“Yeah, let me get right on that,” Bishop muttered, glad to have an excuse to leave the pair.  In the bedrooms upstairs, he found a wardrobe full of women’s clothing, too demure to belong to Carys, but he thought the sizes might not be too far off.  They were all fashioned from roughly the same time period as her dress, and he looked for the least complicated pieces, not wanting to be pressed into acting as her lady’s maid as well. 

Laying the clothes out on the bed, he considered calling Anja to let her know that her hunch had been right.  They’d found Carys exactly where she’d told them to look.  Running a swift calculation in his mind, he figured she might be awake, though it was still very early evening on the west coast.  He tapped the phone against his upper lip –what if she was with Rob?  He didn’t want to interrupt what could already be a very difficult time.  His fingers hovered over the screen, wondering if it’d be better to send her a text. 

Carys interrupted his thoughts, striding into the room.  “There you are, Ulrik.  I almost thought you’d gone after all.”

“Glad to see you didn’t lose the ability to walk.”

“You of all people know I’m a good deal stronger than I look,” she smiled, and Bishop had to admit, she was right.  That was one trait she shared with Anja.  Carys studied the clothes he’d laid out with a critical eye before rejecting them to go search through the wardrobe herself. 

“What’d you do, bash Jakob over the head?” Bishop smirked.  “I didn’t think he’d let go of you for a week at least.”

“Jealous?” she asked with an arch smile.

“Not hardly,” he smiled back, because it was true.  While he hadn’t wanted to sit around and watch the two of them suck face, he had absolutely no problems with Jakob taking her off of his hands.  The realization made him breathe easier, recovering some of his equilibrium in a situation that’d been growing dangerously off kilter. 

That obviously wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for, and her eyes hardened, her voice growing frosty.  “Run me a bath, won’t you?”

“I doubt there’s any hot water.”

“Then heat some,” she bit out, her temper running high.

“Did you find anything suitable?” Jakob called out, joining them in the bedroom, and Carys kept her eyes on Bishop as she tore the bloody dress in half and daintily stepped out of the ruined pile of fabric to stand naked before them. 

“No, Ulrik always did have abominable taste in clothing,” she taunted, parading unconcerned with her nudity to rifle through the clothes in the wardrobe.  Jakob chuckled in amusement over the bold move, but Bishop turned away, having seen too many times before where that kind of boldness led.  He found the closest bathroom and turned on the taps, but after several minutes of running, the water didn’t get any warmer. 

Half expecting to find Carys straddling Jakob when he returned to the bathroom, he was relieved to find them chatting easily, as it was the most natural thing in the world for her to be standing there naked.  “There isn’t any hot water,” he reported, averting his eyes. 

“Ah well, no matter,” she sighed, pulling on a silky dressing gown.  “I am rather tired anyway, I suppose it can wait until tomorrow.” 

“Yes, you must rest now,” Jakob agreed, turning down the bed for her and kissing her brow once he’d tucked her in, like a small child. 

“But… you’ll be here when I wake, won’t you?”  A touch of fear slipped into her voice as she looked between the men.  “Both of you?”

“Of course,
älskling
,” Jakob replied instantly, glaring at Bishop to do the same.

There were so many reasons why he should get the hell out of there while he could, but Bishop found himself giving her a solemn nod.  “I’ll be here.” 

Why does everything always end up being harder than it has to be?  I kept asking myself that question over and over again as we got back into the car to head over to Leila’s apartment.  Taking Rob out to feed turned out to be a bigger ordeal than I’d thought it would be.  His willpower was nonexistent, and I could see why he’d been limiting his feedings as the only way to exercise control over his actions.  Thank goodness we had Lee to play lookout or we might’ve ended up in a sticky situation in the teeming city. 

Despite his apparent weakness, the call of the blood lent Rob a preternatural strength and a ferocity that terrified me (not to mention scared the snot out of the poor guy he fed from).  Not only did I have to physically restrain him from finishing the guy off, but I’d had to add a subtle compulsion to calm him down.  Even then, I don’t think he would’ve been able to turn away from the fresh blood without me pinning him against the wall with one hand while I sealed the victim’s wounds with the other.  If we were going to tackle this three times a day, I was going to have to figure out a more discreet way of finding him a meal.

Lee agreed to stay down by the car when we got there.  Leila was kind of twitchy around strangers sometimes, and besides, things were tense between the two men.  There was no sense in making everything more awkward than it needed to be.

“Let me do the talking when we get up there, yeah?” Rob said as we started up the stairs. 

“Why?”  Not that I objected to him taking charge of the conversation, but as far as I knew, Leila and I had parted on good terms. 

“Last time I saw her it didn’t go too well.”

“What happened?”

He was silent until we rounded the banister and started up the next flight, choosing his words carefully.  “I chased her out of Gran’s apartment.  Scared her pretty bad, I reckon, but it was for her own safety.  It weren’t safe for her to be around me.”

“Ah.”  I could see how that might make things strained between them.  “I’m sure she’ll understand when we explain about the curse.”

He let out a long sigh as we reached the last landing.  “Maybe she will and maybe she won’t.”  Rob rapped sharply on the door, his jaw held tight as though he expected something to jump out at him.  Instead we were greeted by silence.

“Maybe she’s not home?”

His head cocked to one side, listening, and I did the same.  “Nah, she’s home true enough.”  He was right, I heard the whisper of bare feet against the linoleum in what sounded like the kitchen.  Rob pounded on the door again.

This time there was a startled scrape of a chair against the floor and Leila’s voice rang out sharply.  “Go away!”

“It’s me, come to visit at last.” 

“No, you’re not!”

“Come and see for yourself, Bits.  I’m the same as I was before,” he tried again.

“Robby’s dead and gone.  I won’t open the door for a corpse!” she flung out, sounding no closer.

“Leila!  Open the bloody door.”  Rob pounded on the door hard enough for the frame to creak and I caught hold of his hand, pulling it to his side. 

“Calm down, she’ll never open it like that.”

“Bloody useless,” he muttered in disgust, wrenching his hand free from mine to dig in his pocket.  “I’ll let m’self in.”  He produced a key, which turned easily in the lock, but Rob came upon an impenetrable barrier when he tried to step in.  Apparently, he hadn’t been invited in since he’d turned into a vampire.  I’d already been invited, but it wasn’t polite for me to force my way in and try to get her to invite Rob. 

“Let me try,” I suggested when his face twisted in frustration.  His emotions were all over the place, and I did my best to offer him a supportive smile before I called to his sister from the doorway.  “Leila?  It’s Anja.  We just want to talk to you, I promise.” 

“Only the dead talk, and they whisper like leaves on the grave.  Begging, always begging…”  Her voice faded to little more than mumbles that I couldn’t make out even with my enhanced hearing. 

It was clearly one of her bad days and I wasn’t sure what would reach her.  “Would you rather come out and talk somewhere else?  It doesn’t have to be here if it makes you feel unsafe.”

Leila appeared at the end of the room, her dark eyes peeping across the edge of the wall.  “I’m not the one in danger.  I’m not the bleeding heart.”

“I think maybe we should leave,” Rob said, his brow deeply furrowed, but I thought we were making progress.  At least she’d come out of the kitchen. 

“We need her help, unless you have any other bright ideas?”

“I’ve other family who might be in the know.  It’ll take a while for me to put the word out, ask around a bit on their whereabouts is all.”

Time was not on our side, not after seeing how unstable Rob had become.  “I think we should maybe…”

“You brung him low,” Leila accused, shuffling forward, her long hair falling over half her face as she approached.  Despite the cool weather, she wore a short, summery dress of bright green over flowered leggings, her feet bare. 

“I know, and I’m sorry,” I said gently.  “But that’s why we’re here, to try and break the curse.  Don’t you want to help us?”

“Don’t know much about curses.”

I suppressed the squeal of happiness that she was actually talking to us semi-lucidly, casting about for the best way to draw her out, while Rob remained silent.  “But you knew how to make him the charm, out of my hair, right?  You know how to get around the curse, at least temporarily.”

“That was only a bandage.  The only way to save his heart is to cut out yours.”  Her head canted to one side, dark eyes fixed on me.  “Shall I fetch a knife?” she asked, with the same tone she’d once used asking me if I wanted a biscuit.

“I’d rather keep my heart intact if it’s all the same to you.”

“It’s not all the same to me.  I want my Robby back.”  She began to cry, tears falling with shocking speed, down her cheeks and the tip of her nose.

“I know, Leila.  I want him back the way he was too.”  Without thinking, I crossed the threshold, pulling her into a hug and she let me hold her while Rob looked on, his face twisted with regret.  I closed my eyes against the sting of tears, there was no time to dwell on what was, only to try to find a way to fix it.  “Is there any way you can think of to save him without killing me or Jakob compelling me not to love him anymore?”

“Curse magic is strong.  Hatred lasts so much longer than love,” she sniffed.  “Have you talked to Stephanos?”

“You mean Stevo?” Rob’s brows climbed.  “That’s a good idea.”

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“He’s a cousin, of sorts.  Hasn’t got a lick of real magic in him, but he might could know how to point us in the right direction.  Thanks, Bits, I know where to find him.”

“Thanks, Leila,” I smiled, giving her one last quick hug.  “Hopefully the next time I see you we’ll have this curse thing beat.”

“Hatred lasts longer than love,” was all she said, her face somber.

I left, too disturbed by that pronouncement to think of something else to say.  Rob had moved on ahead, his feet quick now that he had a purpose.  He paused to wait for me near the last landing, impatience shining from every pore.

“Come on then, this is meant to be a hunt, not a stroll,” he teased.  “Something wrong?” he added when I didn’t crack a smile.

“You mean besides your sister offering to cut out my heart to save yours?” I snorted.  “No, I was thinking about something else she said.  I don’t believe that.”

“What?”

“That hatred lasts longer than love.” 

Rob started down the last flight of stairs, his eyes on the steps before him.  “It’s true enough with us.”

“If that were true you wouldn’t be sick right now.  Unless you mean you don’t love me anymore.”

He stopped, looking up at me with hooded eyes.  “I don’t deserve to love you.”

I stared down at him for long moments, torn between agreeing with the sentiment and pulling him close to make it up to me.  In the end, I did nothing but start down the stairs again.  “Let’s go find your cousin.  Maybe he’ll have better news for us. 

* * *

“How many cousins do you have anyway?” I asked as we set off down the street on foot, Lee trailing in the car behind.  I wanted to tell him he could meet us back at the house later, but the look in his eye let me know that Lee wouldn’t leave me alone with Rob for the moment. 

“Don’t know,” Rob answered honestly enough.  “Seems there’s always more of ’em turning up out of the woodwork every time I turn around.” 

“I suppose that’s bound to happen when you live as long as you have,” I considered aloud.  “Are they all… you know, special?”

“How do you mean?”

“Like you and Leila, you’re a lot older than you look.  And Laveda, she’s got that thing that makes her extra tasty to fangers, as she likes to say.  And all of you have a resistance to compulsion.”  At least he had when he was alive. 

“Leila and me, we’ve only got this longer life because of our close ties to Jakob, sharing his blood.  Ain’t most of them ever even seen the likes of him.  But blood will tell.  Most of our lot has a few quirks, as you’ll see.”

“This guy, Stevo, he’s quirky too?”  I was under the impression he wasn’t anything special seeing as how Rob thought he didn’t have a lick of magic about him.

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” Rob snorted, his hand settling naturally against the small of my back as he guided me around the corner. 

We found Stevo (pronounced like Steve-oh) working a table in front of a chip house, hawking knock-off purses to passersby.  He was good looking, if a little rough around the edges, wearing a t-shirt with a black open vest, jeans, and scuffed boots.  His dark hair was longish and fell over his brow on both sides with a rakish tilt.  The goatee was saved from a disreputable slant by his charming smile, which seemed to be the key to his sales pitch. 

His voice was high spirited and engaging as he called out, “Walk up, ladies and gents, walk up.  You’ll never find finer this side of the Thames.  At these prices, it’s practically a steal.” 

A small crowd gathered before the table, inspecting his wares.  It gave me a few minutes to get a good look at him before he noticed us and the power of his smile was considerable.  “How ’bout you, luv?  A cracking bird like you deserves the finer things in life.  How’s about you get your geezer to fork over a few quid and treat you like the queen you are?”

“How’s about I lay you out for trying to chat up my girl?” Rob countered, but there was no menace in his voice, his lips curved into what passed for a grin.

“Lord strike me… Rob?” Stevo gaped, the shill forgotten as he recognized him.  “I heard you was…”

“I am,” Rob said shortly, losing the faint smile.  “That don’t change nothing between us, do it?”

Stevo swallowed in hesitation before he produced another smile.  “Nah, blood is blood, yeah?  So long as you ain’t asking for mine,” he added with a nervous glance in my direction.

“We’re not here to eat,” I assured him quickly, looking around to see if anyone was listening, but the crowd had thinned once he dropped his sales patter. 

His eyes narrowed at me in appraisal, raking over me from head to toe before he spoke again.  “No?  What you doing in these parts then?  Ain’t the north end your stomping ground these days?”

Rob jerked his head to the side.  “Bend your ear for a tick?”

Stevo stared back at him for a good fifteen seconds before he turned and yelled at a boy sitting on top of a newspaper machine.  “Oi, Lash.  Be a good lad and look after my kit, yeah?”

“What’s in it for me?” the boy sniffed, not moving from his perch.

“A fiver if you make a sale.”

“Aw, but you’ll clear three times that.”

“And so shall you when you’ve put up the blunt for the merchandise in the first place.  Now get down here and be quick about it,” Stevo replied smoothly.  “And be glad I don’t box your ears in the bargain,” he added when Lash hopped down to take his place by the table. 

We followed him into the chip shop and I held my breath against the cloying smell of grease, grateful when we emerged in the alley on the other side of the kitchen.  “What’s all this about then?” Stevo asked once the door clanged shut behind us.  “Must be serious, you coming to me for help.”

“We’re here to get your help in breaking a curse,” I said, figuring I wouldn’t have to mince words around him.

Stevo’s brows jumped in surprise, and he turned to Rob.  “Is she serious, mate?”

“As a heart attack.”

“What kind of a curse?”

I told him what few facts we knew, how Rob was affected and how Carys had been able to circumvent it in the past.  It didn’t take very long to share all the intel we knew, unfortunately. 

He let out a low whistle, head shaking at Rob with pity.  “You’re fucked, mate.”

Rob bristled, his shoulders hunching closer.  “Tell me something I didn’t know.”

“There has to be a way to undo the curse,” I insisted, not very encouraged by his response.  “Aren’t you supposed to have a line on that sort of thing?”