Chapter Nine
Back to business as usual. Bishop took the bike to The Bleeding Hart, not wanting to be tempted to chase Anja down and offer her a ride to her place. Best for everyone if he got his head back in the game and went back to what he did best; serve the Order. The other members of the Jacari were his friends, the only family he’d known for over three hundred years. He didn’t need or want a woman clouding his mind or his judgment.
The reality that he’d already circumvented the law didn’t sit well with him, and he tried to drive it from his mind as he pushed the bike through the darkened streets of the city. The sight of the familiar bar helped put him in the right frame of mind. There he knew what to expect. Overpriced drinks, the mix of low key regulars looking for a place to commune, and the usual posers with delusions of grandeur. And, if he was lucky… a brawl.
The doorman knew him on sight and they traded sober nods as Bishop strode in, pausing near the entrance to take in the lay of the land. Scotty lounged behind the bar, idly scratching the back of his shaved head while he smoked and leafed through a comic book. Jarrod, co-owner of the establishment, held court at his table without his usual companion, his twin Leander. He didn’t seem to mind though, there was a long legged brunette offering a suitable distraction.
There were only a handful of patrons in the bar, but it was early yet, the place didn’t usually pick up until well after midnight. Those that were there largely ignored him, any that happened to look up and catch his eye rapidly looked away as if afraid of attracting his attention. Bishop was used to that, there were few vampires that looked him in the eye once they knew who he was. It didn’t bother him, in fact, he cultivated it. It made his job easier to do.
Mason waved him over from their usual corner, holding up two fingers to the bartender who nodded. “Ah, you made it. I wasn’t sure if you’d show up tonight or not.”
“I figured you had something going if you took the time to come over instead of calling,” Bishop shrugged, taking a seat with his back to the wall. Scotty dropped off two beers and he nodded his thanks.
“Well yeah, but… you didn’t have to come out here if you had company, I would have understood. It’s not a big deal. In fact, I’m a little surprised you didn’t bring her along. Why not mix a little business with pleasure?” he grinned and Bishop had to wonder - was Mason really hoping to see Anja again so soon?
“It’s not a problem. I’d rather get the business out of the way if you don’t mind. What have you got?” He didn’t acknowledge the mention of Anja coming with him at all. It made him think of what her expressive face would look like venturing into a real live vampire bar.
Mason took it in stride, well used to Bishop’s moods. He pulled out a series of five pictures and laid them out on the table. “You know I’ve been tracking Manolo off and on for about two years for those stolen chips, but we haven’t been able to figure out how he’s disguising the serial numbers? Take a look at these…”
Bishop leaned forward to study the pictures, losing himself in the job for a while as he helped his friend figure out where to go next on the case. This was the part he liked best, poring over data, sorting through the pieces until they fell into place. The physical aspects of the job were fun on occasion, but he had an affinity for the analytical side of investigation. For the next half hour he quizzed Mason on where he stood, his sharp mind turning over the facts while they plotted out his next course of action. Finally he relaxed, satisfied with the proposed plan, finishing off the dregs of his warm beer with a wince.
“So, tell me all about Anja.” Mason waggled his brows at him, holding up two more fingers to the bartender.
He had wondered how long it would take for Mason’s naturally inquisitive nature to bring her up again. “What about her?” he replied mildly.
“How come you never told me about her?”
“Because… there’s nothing to tell.” Bishop gave a careless shrug.
“And yet she’s in your bed…”
“How did you…? She’s… it’s not like that.” Hating that flustered feeling, Bishop accepted the new beer from Scotty. He drained half of it in one gulp, wishing for something more potent to drink.
“Right... Because God forbid you ever enjoy your existence for a millisecond,” Mason muttered, tipping back his own beer.
“I enjoy my life,” Bishop frowned, the remark hitting a too close to home after the day he’d had. Mason might not care about mixing business with pleasure, but he wanted… no, needed to keep focused. Anything else was too painful.
“Yeah, you’re a regular barrel of laughs.” A roll of the eyes was given. “Alright then, so she’s what… more like a sister to you?”
“Something like that.”
“Then you don’t mind if I take a crack at her?”
He’d almost been convinced she was just digging at him when she’d said Mason was interested, but had there been a kernel of truth to it? “Just how friendly did the two of you get while I was out?” he demanded hotly.
“Ha, I knew it! You do have a thing for this girl. Relax, Cochise, I wouldn’t horn in on your lady.”
“She’s not…” Mentally kicking himself for walking right into that one, Bishop paused a beat to regain his composure before he continued. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh come on, she’s the only girl I’ve seen in your apartment…ever. And you let her stay there while you were out, that’s gotta be a new level of trust for you. I figured you two must be pretty tight.”
“It’s… complicated.” That was an understatement. She’d managed to worm her way under his skin, and he was starting to think he’d never be rid of her completely. Anja wasn’t even there and she was still the hot topic of the day.
“Of course it is, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, buddy,” he snorted.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I’m glad to see you finally getting some. If anyone needed to let off a little steam, it’s you.”
“You make it sound like I’m a monk,” Bishop frowned. “I enjoy female companionship as much as the next guy.”
“I’m talking about more than a feeder.”
“Yeah, well not all of us like to play amnesia roulette with women like you do. When’s the last time you hooked up with more than a one night stand?”
“Ouch.” Mason laid a hand over his heart. “We’re not talking about me though, we’re talking about you.”
“Actually, we’re not talking about me either,” Bishop smiled, polishing off the last of his beer. “Do we have any heavy hitters in town right now?” He was a little out of touch with the social scene. It had been a while since he’d made the usual rounds, but he knew Mason and Cage were fairly visible.
“Heavy hitters…” Mason switched gears without skipping a beat. “The Cordova brothers are here, and Gilchrist left last week. Oh, and Kursik has been holed up at the Fairmont, remember?”
“Right, I almost forgot about Kursik,” Bishop nodded, mentally sifting through what he knew about the guy. He was a dangerous, influential man in any incarnation, and older than Bishop by a good century at least. He had blue eyes and fair hair… could he be responsible for turning Anja? His blood might be powerful enough to manage her abnormal readings, and anyone could throw around Old Norse with a little practice. Could Kursik be masquerading as an Ellri among the newborns? He would have to tread carefully in making any inquiries, Aleksandr Kursik was not a man to be dealt with lightly.
“Hello?” Mason waved a hand in front of Bishop’s face and he realized there was a question on the table he’d completely missed.
“Sorry, what?”
“I said, why do you want to know about the heavy hitters? Are you expecting something big to go down?”
It was tempting to bring Mason into it all. He trusted him implicitly, but it was better for his own protection to have some plausible deniabili
ty should things take a wrong turn in his investigation. “No, just trying to keep updated, that’s all. Listen, I’m going to take off, go check in with the office and get some paperwork done. Are we good here, or did you need anything else?” Bishop threw down a few bills to pay for the drinks and a decent tip.
“No, I’m good. Thanks for your help, brother. Give me a call if you get stuck on that paperwork.”
“Why, would you come in to help me with it?” Bishop’s brows rose in questioning disbelief.
“No, but I’d say supportive things like… you can do it!” Mason’s lopsided grin reappeared.