Chapter Eight
The room was pitch black when I opened my eyes. It felt like only a few minutes had elapsed from the time I’d fallen asleep, but the clock on the bedside table showed it was after five p.m.
Bedside table…
Though I’d fallen asleep on the couch, I was now in Bishop’s bedroom. Even with the shutters closed, my vision was adequate, and I could clearly see it matched the décor in the rest of the apartment. Masculine and tasteful, one wall lined with bookshelves. The question was, when had he put me into his bed, and did it mean he still wanted me to go?
As comfy as it was, I knew I shouldn’t overstay my welcome. I’d promised to be on my way as soon as he came back. “Hello?” I called out softly, slipping out of the bed, trying in vain to find my shoes. The apartment was quiet, too quiet. With all the shutters closed up tight, it felt like an oversized mausoleum with me the only resident.
“Bishop?” I said to the empty room, feeling so alone… so disconnected from the rest of the world. On silent feet, I strode to the windows to press the button for the shutters, letting in the remains of the setting sun. Foolishly, I looked to the streets below, having some idea that maybe I’d spot Bishop’s car, but there was no sign of it. I wondered if he was hiding out somewhere, waiting for me to leave. Did he consider his duties discharged in explaining the vampire facts of life to me? Was that a good or a bad thing?
My thoughts returned to the disjointed images of Bishop comforting me through my transition. The memories were swiftly becoming soft and hazy, with the filter of pain already starting to lose its hold on my mind. How much of that had been real and how much the result of my fevered imagination? I was grateful - more grateful than I could express to Bishop for being there for me - but I could hardly keep imposing on him, especially when it seemed to make him so uncomfortable.
And yet… I couldn’t make myself leave, not without seeing him again. Left to my own devices, I took a deeper look at his apartment. The kitchen was especially bare; it looked like the refrigerator and the microwave were the only appliances that saw any regular use. There were three different kinds of juice in the fridge, and I helped myself to a glass of cranberry, finding both the taste and color pleasing.
The cupboards held a few snack type items and some clean glasses, but little else. Mister tall, dark and handsome vampire cop seemed to have the occasional craving for popcorn, or maybe he liked to entertain humans that did? That sparked all manner of images of his entertaining ladies in the apartment, and I found I didn’t like that train of thought at all. For some reason I didn’t enjoy thinking about Bishop feeding on random women while they watched movies on his flat screen TV and snacked on Jiffy Pop.
The grand piano tucked away in the corner caught my interest. It was a beautiful instrument, not something I usually saw outside of school. He certainly had the space for it. There was no sheet music on the stand or in the bench, and I wondered if it was only for show? There wasn’t a speck of dust on it, but I couldn’t help but feel like it saw little use. A test of the keys found it to be in perfect pitch though. I had enough training to accompany myself when learning a new piece, but it never came easily to me and my sight reading was terrible. I had to puzzle out each song the first time through a piece, and my efforts were always plodding at best. Maybe it’s the perfectionist in me, I always thought piano should be smooth, with one note flowing seamlessly into the next. Something I could do with my voice easily enough when my nerves didn’t get the better of me.
A knock at the front door made me jump, and I hastily closed the piano back up, tiptoeing to the door. There wasn’t a peep hole set into the heavy duty metal door and I wondered if it would be safe for me to open it, or if I should pretend no one was home and wait for them to go away. Closing my eyes I extended my new senses to see if I could tell who it might be. Whoever stood at the front door was absolutely silent. That spelled vampire. It couldn’t be Bishop, he wouldn’t have knocked.
“Come on, I know you’re up, let me in!” A male voice called out, making me jump again.
“Just a minute, please,” I called out, not quite sure what the heck I was doing. Whoever it was, I would let them know Bishop wasn’t home and send them on their way. I couldn’t hide out forever, and it seemed as good a time as any to meet another vampire, especially one who obviously knew Bishop well enough to yell at him like that. Taking a deep breath, I ran my fingers through my tousled hair, hoping I didn’t look as bad as I had the night before. Calm and in control… you’re a visiting vampire and you’re calm and in control… I tried to reassure myself as I pulled the door open. “Yes?”
The vampire waiting out in the hallway was dressed in navy blue tactical garb, like I imagined a member of the SWAT team would wear. His pants had a zillion pockets in them and he was armed with two pistols strapped to his thighs. A shoulder holster sat plainly visible over a dark turtleneck and vest for anyone to see. I wasn’t sure if he was getting ready to respond to a riot or if he always dressed like that and didn’t give a damn who saw him in the get up. With medium brown hair and eyes and a closely manicured beard, he wasn’t unattractive, even if I had to crane my neck to get a good look at him. He was even taller than Bishop, and broadly muscled, but the grin on his face removed any initial fear I had at finding someone of his size standing outside the door.
“Well, hello there.” His grin expanded to show me a row of even white teeth. “And who might you be?”
Calm and in control… “I might ask you the same,” I asked in a voice I hardly recognized as my own.
“Fair enough,” he chuckled, not at all offended by my tone. “I’m Mason. I’m guessing Bishop isn’t expecting me tonight, huh?”
“He didn’t mention it to me, no.”
“Understandably distracted, I get it.” His hands spread out in front of him. “So, is he uh… indisposed then?” He looked past me, easily seeing over the top of my head.
“He stepped out for a bit. Are you with the Order too?” I asked, fishing a little. If the Order was supposed to be a secret, I didn’t know. Besides, Bishop had said he was with the Order the first time I talked to him, he hadn’t bothered to hide it.
“Yeah, we work together sometimes,” he nodded. “Bishop’s never mentioned me before then, huh?” He seemed almost forlorn that I didn’t know who he was, and I searched for a way to preserve his ego.
“We’ve had a lot of catching up to do. I showed up on his doorstep last night.” Not a lie… “He probably hasn’t gotten around to you yet.”
“Yeah, it was probably something like that. He didn’t tell me he was expecting any company either.”
“It was a last minute sort of thing. Bishop is…” I blanked for a moment, trying to think of how best to define our relationship, not wanting to give the impression in any way that he was my Sire. “…one of my oldest friends.” Also not a lie, he was the oldest person I knew.
“He’s a great guy. I’ve only known him for about twenty years, but he’s the shit, there’s no one better.”
That one I could attest to without embellishment. “He is a terrific guy,” I nodded, warming to him a little. So far so good on meeting vampires, though I had to expect most of them probably wouldn’t be as friendly. But seeing as how I was in the mood to make new friends… “I’m not really sure when he’ll be back, do you want to come in and wait for him for a while?”
“Yeah, I could do that for a bit.” When he passed by, I noticed the vest he wore looked like a bullet proof vest. Why would a vampire need that kind of protection? Bishop hadn’t worn one, but then again, he had been coming to see me, and I hardly posed a threat to him. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked.
I hadn’t, but the bitchy vampire role wasn’t my forte. “I’m Anja, nice to meet you.”
Mason took my hand when I offered it, dwarfing mine as he shook it. “You know, it’s strange he’s never ment
ioned you before.”
Uh oh… “Does he often talk to you about his past?” I hedged. So far Bishop had dodged a lot of the more personal questions I’d asked, so I assumed he was a secretive person by nature.
“Well… sometimes. I mean he’s a private dude for sure, but he has mentioned a time or two that he had a thing for blondes,” he grinned.
“Does he now…” I frowned, another vision of him snacking on a blonde in his living room flitting through my mind. Not that I had any reason to be jealous, I’d just met the man. Something must have shown on my face because Mason backpedalled like crazy.
“Hey, I’m not saying he’s had a parade of women in here of any hair color. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I saw him hook up with a Betty. I just meant he’s partial to blondes, except for when he’s feeding. But you’d know more about that than I would, I expect. You know Bishop, he’s the job and not a whole lot else. I have a hard enough time dragging him into the social scene even when it’s business. That’s why I was surprised to see you here. It’s nice to see him join the land of the living, so to speak.” He finished with another goofy grin, and I lost my annoyance over the blonde remark.
“So, was that what you boys had planned for tonight? You hardly look dressed for the social scene,” I said, gesturing to his vest.
“That depends on the scene.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “I like to be prepared,” he shrugged, giving a Velcro strap a little tug on the vest.
“You must have been a Boy Scout when you were a boy,” I muttered, but of course his ears picked it up.
“Eagle Scout, actually. Not all of us are as tough as your boyfriend. I’ll take all the help I can get.”
I opened my mouth to dispute that he wasn’t my boyfriend, but decided against it at the last second. What could it hurt? It might even come in handy someday, Bishop seemed to be well respected. “That sounds smart, given your profession,” I nodded instead.
“You never know when danger will strike,” he said almost prophetically, as his phone buzzed. Mason retrieved it from one of his many pockets and frowned over it for a couple of seconds. “Speaking of which, it was great meeting you, but I’ve gotta run.”
“Oh, okay. Is there a message you’d like me to pass along to Bishop when he gets here?” If he ever showed up…
“Yeah, tell him to meet up with me at The Bleeding Hart later if he wants to come out to play, I’m headed there now.”
“The bleeding heart? What’s that?” I mistook his words.
“He’ll know. Hell, maybe he’ll even bring you along.” He edged towards the door. “I hope to see you again, Anja. Will you be in town for long?”
I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested, or instinctively probing for more information. “I’ll be around.” I tried for my most mysterious smile.
“Catch you later then.” With a last wink, he slipped out, leaving me all alone again.
I knew I should leave.
Instead I curled up in his bed again, listening to the night sounds on the street below. I knew I didn’t belong in Bishop’s place, but something kept me from going home. Part of it was fear I might attack Bridget again or any other innocent bystander on the street who happened to need a Band-Aid along the way. And part of it was fear my Sire might make another move and I wouldn’t be strong enough to get away without Bishop to intervene. Given my frame of mind and everything I’d been through in the past twenty-four hours, I suppose it wasn’t surprising that I drifted off to sleep again.