Read Wake Me When the Sun Goes Down Page 29

Chapter Fifteen

  I hadn’t been to many bars in that point of my life, and that one didn’t particularly make me want to start. Not that there was anything wrong with the place, it wasn’t a sleazy dive, it just wasn’t my thing. I would much rather be holed up in a little café, drinking cocoa and eating too many coconut macaroons.

  The bar patrons were mostly young and attractive. No bikers, it was more of an upscale place. That bothered me a little. I would almost rather he picked a tougher crowd, then I might not have felt so bad knowing I’d be attacking one of them very soon.

  Nobody gave us a second glance as we took seats at the end of the bar. Bishop’s eyes scanned the place and I followed his lead, seeing what there was to offer. It was early still and there were only a dozen or so people sprinkled throughout the room.

  “How do we start?” I asked, sliding off my jacket. I knew he wouldn’t remove his, he was armed as usual.

  “Let’s start slow, order a drink.”

  “But I don’t want a drink,” I protested, figuring it’d be best if I stayed sharp and focused.

  “Yes, you do, it’ll help relax you. Besides, you need to practice compulsion before you need it in a hurry or there’s blood involved.” I could see the wisdom in that, but had no clue how to go about doing it. Before I could open my mouth to ask, Bishop seemed to clue in to my distress and leaned closer to me, his voice low and reassuring at my ear. “Focus on what you want. Catch his eyes and project it, it’s as simple as that. Don’t overthink it.”

  “Right,” was all I had time for, before the bartender came to stand before us. “Hi,” I smiled brightly, leaning forward, my eyes on his. “Please bring us a couple of beers.”

  “I’ll have to see your ID, miss,” he asked politely.

  “Oh right, of course,” I nodded, reaching for my pocket, but Bishop laid his hand on my arm with a shake of the head. I was supposed to be compelling him, not doing what he asked. What was I doing wrong? Maybe I wasn’t focusing on the right thing? I really didn’t want a beer to be honest. Deciding to change tacks, I tried something else. Leaving aside the question of drinks, I focused on getting him to look at me. “You don’t need to see my ID, I’m alright to be here.” This time I could feel my will catch a hold of him.

  “You’re alright to be here,” he repeated, his face blank.

  “You’ll give me whatever I want.” A smile curved my lips at that.

  “I’ll give you whatever you want.” An answering smile lit the bartender’s face and he leaned a little closer, perhaps keying into my pleasure at having successfully tried it. “What do you want?”

  I grinned from ear to ear, turning to Bishop for approval. “I have Jedi mind powers!” I giggled triumphantly.

  Bishop shook his head, but there was a smile on his lips when he looked up. “You’d better tell him what you want, don’t lose him now.”

  “We’ll have a couple of beers,” I smiled sweetly.

  “Coming right up,” the bartender grinned, happy to be of use, I expect. He quickly filled our drink orders, hovering like a puppy, eager to do something else for me.

  “Thanks.” I dismissed him with a wave and he retreated farther down the bar, continuing to look over at me every now and again in case I might want something else.

  “Be careful, he’ll end up following you home if you keep him on the hook like that,” Bishop sighed, taking a sip of his drink.

  “What do you mean, on the hook?”

  “Be careful what you ask for when you’re compelling them, they will absolutely have to obey you, or what they think you want whether you said it out loud or not.”

  “I didn’t think of it like that,” I blinked, darting another look at the bartender who gave me a hopeful smile until I looked away. “I did pretty good though, right?”

  “Don’t get cocky, kid. It’s easier to bum a drink than it is to erase someone’s memory of having been brutally attacked.”

  “Well, since I don’t plan on brutally attacking anyone, I guess I won’t have to worry about that,” I said loftily, cradling my unwanted beer like it was the finest trophy in the world. Bishop chuckled and I got the distinct impression he thought he knew better than that. “So… what’s the next lesson?”

  “Next, you need to scout your target. There are many variables to consider.”

  “You mean take into account if someone will notice if they slip away and come back with a bite on the neck? Or if they look drugged out or something?” I took the opportunity to look at the bar denizens, trying not to think of it as picking over items in a buffet.

  “Yes, exactly. You can pick up a contact high if they’re on hard drugs, or so drunk they can’t walk straight. You should also consider if they’re alone or with a group of friends that can describe you to the authorities if things get out of hand. You’ll be focusing on compelling the person you’re feeding from, not everyone else in the bar. In time you’ll come to decide if you prefer a crowded club, or even a chance encounter with someone on the street.”

  “Do you talk to them first? Find out if they’ve got a family waiting at home?” That felt like a pretty important distinction to me if I was likely to have control issues to start with.

  “Why would I do that?” he asked, brows drawing together in puzzlement.

  “Because you wouldn’t want to accidentally kill someone with a wife or kids, right?”

  “What difference would that make? Accidents happen every day, people adapt,” Bishop shrugged, completely unconcerned with my point.

  “But this isn’t an accident. This is me choosing in a premeditated way, deciding who I might potentially kill if I can’t control myself. Doesn’t it bother you to think that you might accidentally kill someone that people depend on?”

  Bishop laughed, his head falling back like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, only sobering once he saw my expression. “Oh, you’re serious. Anja, that’s part of our nature. We’re killers, it’s what we’re built for. Chances are, if someone gets tangled up in my path they’re not a blameless victim given the places I spend time in. Besides, it’s been a long time since I killed anyone accidentally while feeding.”

  “But you kill them as part of your Order?” I started to understand that human life meant very little to most vampires. Would it be that way for me too in time?

  “Do you want to do this or not?” he muttered irritably, taking a swig of his beer.

  “Fine, who would you pick then?” I asked, though it was obvious by watching Bishop that he’d already made his selection. His attention seemed wholly focused on a woman sitting in a booth by herself. Pretty, if a little older, she nursed a white wine.

  “Watch and learn.” Bishop slid off the barstool before pausing to lean in close to my ear. “After I leave with her, give us a couple of minutes and then come to join us in the alley to the side of the bar.” Without waiting for a response, he moved on and I had to admire his natural grace as he slid into the seat opposite her, his charming smile smoothing over any objections she might have. But then again… who would object to Bishop joining them in a bar? What I wouldn’t have given to have him smile at me like that.

  I watched them together, easily able to hear the thread of their conversation, the woman’s laughter trilling back to me. Oh yeah… she was a goner. In a few minutes he rose and stretched out his hand, not even having to use his influence to get her to leave the bar with him. Waiting on my stool, I downed the rest of my beer to steady my nerves before following them outside, slipping around the corner of the building.

  My eyes adjusted instantly to the dim lighting in the alley, the soft murmur of conversation reaching me as I drew nearer. I spotted them on the other side of the dumpster, Bishop had her pressed up against the wall, whispering endearments at her ear. For a long moment I watched them, feeling like I was intruding, until his eyes fixed on mine. Holding my gaze, he brushed his lips al
ong the side of her neck. “Join us,” he smiled invitingly. “You don’t mind do you, sweetheart?”

  “I don’t mind.” The brunette smiled back dutifully, her focus on Bishop. I approached them slowly, still a little uncomfortable with it all, but he looked completely in control. “Anja this is Holly. Say hello, Holly.”

  “Hello,” she smiled obligingly.

  “Hello,” I replied softly, wondering if he intended to drink from her right there in the alleyway. Somehow I thought we would go somewhere more private, but in theory he knew what he was doing.

  “Holly is very healthy, aren’t you?” Bishop smiled, his fingers tracing along her jaw and down the side of her neck to follow the deep scoop of her neckline. Is it bad that in that moment I wished I could trade places with her?

  “Yes, I am,” she said proudly.

  “Good girl.” Bishop kissed her temple lightly before fixing those green eyes on me. “Bite her.” The girl tilted her head away obligingly, almost inviting me to do as he said.

  I watched them with dismay, not sure why I found the idea so distasteful. I hadn’t had any problems with the idea of eating Bridget, as sick as that sounded in my head. “I don’t… I’m not sure I can…”

  “Survival, remember? Is it because I picked a woman? Now is not the time to be prudish,” he chastised gently.

  “I am not a prude! I was going to bite Bridget, remember? Somehow I think this is a little outside the realm of normal experience, okay?”

  “I don’t think she’s a prude,” Holly interjected and Bishop shot her a withering look.

  “Who asked you?”

  “Nobody,” she admitted cheerfully. Bishop closed his eyes for a minute and I could see that pinched look of almost pain coming over his features when things weren’t going down exactly to plan.

  “Look, forget it, I’ll go find a guy on my own…” I turned away to leave.

  “Absolutely not.” His voice was a low and dangerous growl, surprising me as he caught my arm hard enough to hurt which was saying a lot now.

  “Wow, someone’s jealous,” Holly giggled and he spared her a scowl before tugging at my arm.

  “I’m not even all that hungry. I already ate tonight, remember?”

  “You’re stalling.”

  “I’m sorry! But we’re here for you to train me so I’ll learn how to do it on my own, right? And I don’t think I’d ever pick someone like her. No offense, Holly.”

  “None taken,” she replied equably, and Bishop let go of me in disgust.

  “Fine, who would you choose?”

  “Not to be a prude, but I think I’d pick a guy.” Remembering what it felt like when I’d drunk from him, I had a feeling it would get pretty intimate and Holly wasn’t my type. “Unless you can give me a reason why I shouldn’t feed on a man?”

  Bishop’s jaw tightened, throat working while he swallowed back whatever off the cuff reply he’d been planning. “Go ahead then, knock yourself out. It sounds like you don’t need me anymore.”

  “No wait, don’t leave.” I clutched at his arm. “Of course I still need you, but I need to learn how to do it my way, right?”

  “Right.” His answer was given through clenched teeth.

  “So will you help me?”

  A long breath was given. “Go ahead, pick your guy. I’ll take care of Holly.”

  “You’ll be here when I come back?” I didn’t think I’d be brave enough to try anything without him there. What if I lost control and ended up killing the guy?

  “I’ll be here.”

  I hoped ‘taking care of Holly’ meant putting her in a cab and not the dumpster, but I decided not to ask. Giving him a smile and a wave good bye to Holly, I left the alley and hoped for the best.