Trust Me When the Sun Goes Down (17 page)

“Yeah, go ahead and yell at her again, that’s a great plan,” Bishop muttered, hunkering down so that he was at eye level with the girl.  “Hey, it’s alright, we won’t hurt you,” he tried again.  “All we want to do is ask you some questions and then we’ll help you get out of here.  You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”  She stared at him, unresponsive.  “Can you tell us your name?”

The girl made a grunting sound, and he wasn’t sure how to interpret it.  Didn’t she know?  Or had Lodinn ripped out her tongue too?  “Maybe it’s this place?  I can understand why it freaks her out.  Maybe we’d better get her back to the house?”

“Your name, girl, what is it?” Jakob demanded.

“Corrine,” she answered woodenly, her face blank as his compulsion broke through the layers of fear she’d cocooned herself with.  

“Do you know of a vampire named Carys?”

“No.”

“Was it Lodinn who imprisoned you here?”

She looked around in confusion.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know this place.  He asked me to get dolled up, I wore my pretty dress.”  Her hands clutched at the soiled gown.  “But I didn’t please him.  I never pleased him.”

“Ask her if she knew of any other women Lodinn was keeping,” Bishop suggested.  “Any other places he had in town.  Anywhere else that they traveled together.”

“One thing at a time,” Jakob scowled.  He led her through the questions, but the poor girl was woefully ignorant of anything but her own short life.  Every time his compulsion started to fade she’d get agitated again, her responses growing less and less coherent until Jakob was forced to keep her tightly controlled, sending a burst of compulsion with every question.

“I think maybe we need to let her get some rest, the poor kid’s been through a lot,” Bishop said at length, when they were no closer to finding Carys than when they’d started.  “A good day’s sleep, some blood at sunset, and I’m guessing she’ll be in much better shape to answer our questions.

Only she wasn’t.  

Jakob claimed Lodinn’s house as his own, and they checked out of the Plaza Hotel, taking up residence there.  Karr continued to serve them without being asked, devoting himself to serving Jakob’s every whim.  To Bishop he was respectful, but the old man avoided Corinne whenever possible. 

On a good night she did little more than stare off blankly into space, unaware of anyone or anything except when feeding.  Jakob gave her his blood twice more, hoping to heal the damage to her brain, but she gave no sign of improvement, often breaking into fits of screaming and pounding her head on the walls. 

Further questioning revealed she’d only known Lodinn a few short weeks before he’d staked her, and she couldn’t fathom why.  Jakob’s mood soured with each failed interrogation, and even Bishop had to admit, the girl was a dead end as far as finding Carys was concerned. 

Every night brought a new, often bloody, incident as she descended further into madness.  Finally, after he’d had to pull her off of Karr, Bishop realized there was only one thing left for him to do.  It was time to cut their losses and get back on track so he could get on with his life.

“It’s time to move on,” Bishop announced once it was done, joining Jakob in the library to pour himself a scotch. 

“You have another lead?” Jakob’s blue eyes shone with excitement. 

“I want to go check out his old estate in Calais.  A buddy told me about running into Lodinn over there about a hundred and fifty years ago.  I think it’s worth checking out.”

Jakob’s smile dimmed.  “Then you have nothing more than rumor.”

“Nope.  But I think it’s time we struck out somewhere new.” 

“Very well, I shall make some calls.  We’ll have to deal with the lovely Corinne.  It shouldn’t be difficult if we take the jet, I can keep her docile enough for the trip.” 

“I took care of it.”

“You called the pilots?”

“I took care of it.”  Bishop stared ahead in stony silence, drinking deeply.  Jakob was silent for a few moments and Bishop wondered if he was upset.  Frankly, he didn’t give a damn.  He’d done what needed doing.  “Go ahead and call the pilots, the sooner we can leave, the better.”

“I liked her,” Jakob said softly. 

“There wasn’t enough left of her to save.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.  She was getting worse, not better, and no amount of blood or time would’ve helped.  All we can do is hope that Lodinn hasn’t done the same to Carys.”  If they found her in the same state, Bishop wasn’t sure what he’d do about it. 

Jakob was silent for long minutes, lost to his own thoughts.  “Karr!” he bellowed out of the blue.  “He will be coming with us, or would you kill him as well?”

“Of course not,” Bishop scowled.  “There’s no reason to kill him, he’s done nothing but serve you since we got here.  I’m not a cold hearted killer, I just did what needed to be done.”

The servant appeared at the door and Jakob barked off a rapid fire string of orders to pack up the house and get ready to leave.  Karr nodded, making one of his odd sounds of assent when Jakob was finished. 

“Make your preparations, I wish to leave before the dawn.  And in the future, you would do well to consult me before you bring the final death to any under my protection, Ulrik.”  With that, Jakob turned on his heel and strode off.

“Some protection,” Bishop muttered under his breath, downing the last of his scotch.  Turning, he found Karr staring at him intently.  The man’s eyes bulged, mouth contorting as he tried to speak.  All he succeeded in doing was making a wet sound, and it took a few moments to sink in that Karr was trying to say Ulrik.

“Ulrik?” Bishop repeated. 

Karr nodded vehemently, pointing at him and making the same sound.

“Yes, I’m Ulrik.”  Bishop thumped his own chest.  “You know me?”  Or of him at least, from the look on his face.  He racked his memory, but he couldn’t recall Jakob using his name once since they’d come to stay at the house.  But what could the man possibly know about him?

Karr shuffled to the built-in bookcase, his aged hands struggling to remove a leather bound book from the tight confines of the shelf with so many other volumes crammed in.  The book was old, of exquisite workmanship, the leather embossed with a tree of life surrounded by intricate knotwork.  The thick pages were covered with hand lettered entries in smooth, flowing script of different inks, in a handful of languages.  There were simple sketches peppered into some of the entries, and pressed between two pages, a crumbling sprig of lavender. It was a woman’s journal, the dates sporadic and spanning centuries.  But what leapt out to him was a single name that turned up page after page. 

His own.

“This belonged to Carys,” he breathed, looking up to Karr for confirmation.  How had he ended up with it?  The servant made a sound that could’ve been Carys, it was difficult to say.  “Do you know where Carys is?” Bishop asked again, flipping to the last entries that were written in German.  “
Wissen Sie, wo Carys ist
?” he tried, elated to have found a common language with him, when Karr shook his head sadly. 

He had to find out how the man knew about the journal and how he’d come to know his name.  “
Können Sie schreiben, was Sie zu dieser Zeitschrift wissen? Wie Sie meinen Namen?
”

Karr nodded, picking up a pen and paper, his handwriting small and cramped, as though he was used to trying to conserve paper.  When he was finished, he slid the page to Bishop who devoured the words, easily translating them in his head from German to English. 

I do not know this name Carys, there I can not help you.  My master once told me of a great treasure he kept, worth more than a man’s weight in gold.  He carried this journal with him wherever he traveled.  I read it in secret, the parts I could understand at least, looking for clues to this treasure.  I spied your name there often, and when I heard it just now, I thought this must be your woman.

“Can you tell me where you traveled with Lodinn?” he asked, again in German.

The old man nodded, reaching for the paper again.  Bishop watched the pen scratch across the paper before his eyes dipped back to the journal and he turned it to the last page.   

“Remember, we’re here to capture, not kill,” I reminded Carter again.  Okay, so maybe it was overkill.   We’d already gone over the plan a bazillion times, but I wanted to be absolutely sure we were on the same page before I left him on the balcony, knowing exactly how deadly he could be with his bow. 

“I still say this is a waste of time.”

“You leave it all to me.  How do I look?” 

“Like jailbait.”

“Good, that’s exactly what I was going for.”  I hadn’t had anything in my wardrobe suitable for the night’s activities, so I’d stopped off at the mall at Forever 21.  I found the cutest pink skater skirt, definitely a few inches shorter than I was normally comfortable wearing, especially with the midriff baring half tee I paired with it.   Adding a pair of heeled sandals that made me totter like Bambi on ice, I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail and added a sheer, pink lip.  Simple and youthful – the exact opposite of my usual look as Elder of the West.  I’d never met the target in person, and I was counting on him not recognizing me.

I’d decided on a version of predator and prey, the game I’d learned from Amunet, only I had a very specific target that night.  Carter’s investigative skills had led us to a very bad character, Joseph Papanetti, or Joey Pops, as he was known on the street.  He was almost definitely responsible for some of the more gory deaths in the city. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay down there on your own?” he asked, and I was quick to reply. 

“Oh sure, no problem.”  I’d taken on tougher guys in my day.  Tougher girls, even. 

“I could just pick the guy off when he leaves.”

“Are you saying you don’t think I can get the guy to follow me out of the bar?” I huffed, hand on my hip.  Boy, was I bluffing, I had no idea what I was doing, but Carter gave in all the same.

“No, I think he’d have to be blind not to take the bait, I just don’t see the need for this subterfuge.  Can’t we kill him and be done with it?”

“I told you, no killing.  I want to talk to the guy and make sure he’s the one we’re looking for before we do anything drastic.”

“I’m telling you, he’s guilty.  You read the dirt I got on him.” 

“I know.”  I would’ve wanted to take action against him even if I hadn’t suspected him of playing too rough with his food.  Overweight and balding, the man had earned little respect as a human, and he’d taken full advantage of his vampiric influence to throw his weight around now that he’d joined the undead club.  Surrounding himself with beautiful women, fancy cars, a ritzy condo overlooking the bay bridge, Joey Pops was living the good afterlife – at the expense of others.  A little digging around revealed he was famous for going through his women faster than a carton of milk, and he liked them young.  Hence my outfit.   

The first thing I did when Carter brought me the guy’s file was check into his papers, curious to see who could’ve Sired a sleaze like that.  But all I got was a name on his record that went to a dead guy, Saul Workman.  An actual dead guy, not an undead guy… you know what I mean.  There was no way of knowing if his parentage was forged or if Saul was a super bad judge of character.  Technically, I had no legal reason to do a thing to the guy under vampire law, so I couldn’t approach him as the Elder, but I intended to neuter him before the night was through. 

“Just be careful.  I can’t protect you while you’re in the bar, only when you’re outside.”

“Relax, I got this.”

I wasn’t looking forward to going into the cigar bar that Joey Pops liked to frequent, but there were worse things than stinking like smoke, and if all went well, I wouldn’t have to be there for very long.  One of the few smoking establishments left in the city, the upscale bar catered to pretentious people who didn’t mind paying top dollar to rot their lungs.  Joey Pops had a regular table in the back where he puffed
Montecristos
like they were going out of style.  The bar wasn’t even half full, the music low key with a Latin beat. 

Anja… on the prowl.  You can do this. 
Pasting on a bright smile, I marched up to the doorman and caught his will with mine.  “I don’t have any ID and you don’t think I’m twenty-one.  You will not help me no matter what I ask you to do,” I commanded for his ears only.  “I’m such a blonde, I forgot my ID at home.  It’s not that big of a deal, right?” I said much louder, upping the wattage of my smile. 

“I’m sorry, miss.  Without ID I can’t let you in.” 

Perfect response, I couldn’t have scripted it better.  “What?  I’m totally twenty-one.  Actually, I’m almost twenty-two, I swear.”

“I’m sorry, miss.  I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“But I’m supposed to meet this guy I met online.”  My voice took on a wheedling tone as my gaze swept the bar.  Joey Pops was there alright, and looking.  “I’m just a little early.  If you kick me out I’ll never get to meet him.”

He waved me to the door as if shooing a fly.  “That’s not my problem.” 

“But I can’t hang out waiting for him outside.  What if I get mugged?”

“Why don’t you call your friend and arrange to meet somewhere else?”

“I can’t, my cell is dead.  Can I use your phone maybe?” I gave him my best
pretty please
smile, but the compulsion held. 

“No, our phone isn’t for customers.”

“Look, can’t you help me out?  Okay, so I’m not supposed to be in here.  But I won’t even drink, I promise.  You can tell the bartender not to serve me.  What if this guy is my
soulmate
?”

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to leave.”

“Fine!” I yelled, turning on my heel to stomp out the door.  To make sure I had his complete attention, I dropped my purse on the way out, bending over to pick up the contents, giving everyone in the place a pretty decent view of my… assets.  And then I got the heck outta there before they caught sight of my face, stained with embarrassment over the ploy. 

Outside, I started down the street at a fair clip, not worried about him being able to keep up.  It was more important to lure the scumbag into Carter’s range, preferably out of sight from prying eyes.  I headed for the bus stop across the street, pretending to study the schedule while I waited.  Sure enough, I could smell him coming a half block away, the miasma of smoke following him into the mild night air. 

“You need a ride, sweetheart?” he called out, the cigar caught between his teeth.

“Oh, no thanks,” I said, darting a nervous glance in his direction.  “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up.”

“It’s not safe for a young thing like you to be out here alone at night,” he insisted.  “How old are you?”

“I’m old enough to know not to accept rides from strangers,” I replied, looking around like I was afraid to be alone with him.  He hadn’t gotten too close, which worked in my favor – he hadn’t noticed I wasn’t human. 

“Hey, I’m trying to be a nice guy here, do the right thing, you know?  I don’t feel good leaving you out here all alone.  How about I give you a ride to the transit center?  My car’s right over there.”

Frak.
  I was about to make my move when a couple came out of the bar.  Him I could handle, but I’d rather not involve witnesses.  “No thanks, I think I’ll walk.”  I got a few steps away, moving slowly while I waited for the couple to round the corner. 

Joey Pops didn’t let me get too far though.  “Honey, I don’t think you understand.  It’s not safe for you to be alone out here at night.”  He fell into step beside me, grabbing me by the arm.  “Want to know how I know?” 

“How?” I breathed, letting him jerk me to a stop.

“Because of guys like me.”  His lips stretched wide, fangs descending in what was meant to be a terrifying smile.

“You’re right.  It
absolutely
is dangerous out here on the streets at this time of night,” I replied, dropping the scared bunny routine.    “That’s why I always bring a friend with me.” 

Right on cue, an arrow erupted through his chest, neatly skewering his right lung, avoiding his heart by a few inches.  The wood was enough to send him into instant paralysis, but not so bad a wound as it would take feeding him to rouse him once we pulled it out. 

“Is that what you wanted?” Carter’s voice came over the comm in my ear.

“Pretty much.  Good shot, by the way,” I added, snapping off most of the arrow shaft so it was less noticeable.  To anyone who passed by he’d simply look passed out drunk.  Unless they got too close, of course, and saw the bloody stump in his chest. 

“He didn’t make it hard, posing like that.  What an asshole.” 

“Get down here and help me with him before someone comes along, okay?”

“I’m already on my way.” 

Sure, I could’ve carried him on my own, but that would’ve attracted attention, a bitty thing like me carrying the heavyset guy around like a rag doll.  Carter was down in a jiffy anyway, and we hauled him up between us. 

“He said his car was down the street.  Should we see which one is his?” Carter asked.  “Reach in his pocket and see if you can find his keys.”

“Eewh, you reach in his pocket.  I’m already closer to him than I ever wanted to be.”

“Fine,” he muttered, digging for the keys and pressing the remote once he found them.  A silver Lexus flashed its lights and chirped, about a block away.  “Nice,” he approved, and we headed for the car.  “I’ll drive.”

What was it with men and driving?  Not that I was so eager to get behind the wheel, but why did guys always have to be the one to demand the privilege?  I didn’t feel like arguing over it though, so I claimed shotgun after we dumped Joey into the back seat.  I hoped he bled all over the upholstery. 

“You sure about this?” Carter asked as the engine roared to life.

“Let’s stick with the plan.  It’ll be fine, I promise.” 

Twenty minutes later, we had Joey Pops propped up on a dining room chair in the middle of his living room.  Carter had a pair of pliers in his hand, poised to pull the arrow out of his chest.

“Don’t you want to tie him up or anything?” he asked, openly skeptical no matter how many times I reassured him.

“That won’t be necessary,” I replied with absolute conviction.  He’d been turned less than five years ago, I could compel him in my sleep.  “Go ahead, pull it out.”

“Fine, but I’ll be ready to stick it back in him if he freaks out.”

The second his eyes opened, Joey Pops started squawking.  “JesusmotherfuckingChrist!  What the hell…”

I was ready for him, catching hold of his will before he finished the sentence.  “Calm down, it doesn’t hurt that bad.”

Predictably, Joey settled down, his eyes less clouded with pain as he peered up at me.  “Hey, you’re the girl from the street.  What’s going on, man?”

“Shut up and listen to me.  I only want you to speak when I ask you a direct question.  Do you understand?”

“I understand,” he nodded, his voice wooden. 

“Good,” I nodded approvingly, giving Carter a wink.  “My friend tells me you’ve been a bad boy, Joey.  He says he thinks you might even be responsible for a lot of the killings in town lately.  Is that true?”

“Yeah, I’ve killed a lot of people.” 

The way he said it, as though he was talking about catching fish made me sick to my stomach.  “What about the one I saw on the news last week.  Maria Santos.  Did you kill her?”

“Yeah, maybe.  There was a Mary chick, I think her name was.  She had dark hair and smallish tits.  She didn’t have an accent or nothing, but it could’ve been her.”

“Where did you dump her body?” Carter asked, but Joey remained mute.

“Answer him,” I prompted.

“I left her in an alley behind the YMCA on Mission.”

“That’s her,” Carter confirmed.  “This is definitely our guy.”  His hand tightened on the bloody arrow, but my compulsion held and he didn’t stake him. 

“Joey, I want you to listen to me very carefully,” I said, leaning down to get his full attention.  “You will never kill anyone ever again.  In fact, you won’t feed from humans anymore at all.  You don’t like how they taste.  You don’t want to touch them, you don’t want to look at them.  If you get the urge to hunt, you’ll go into the woods and hunt deer or squirrels or something.  Understand?”

“Understand,” he parroted back, but Carter remained skeptical.

“You can’t seriously think that’s going to work.  As soon as we leave he’ll go back to being the scumbag he is and probably kill the first person he comes across to heal the damage we did to him.”

“Actually, he’s going to do any little thing I ask him to.  Aren’t you, Joey Pops?”

“Yes.”

Carter stared at me like I belonged in an asylum.  “What makes you think so?”

There was no way to avoid telling him my secret, it was the only way we’d be able to work together.  “Because I can compel vampires the same as humans or shifters.”

“No one can compel vampires.”

“Man, would my life simple up if that were true,” I sighed.  “It’s rare, but I can do it right enough.  So can
Ellri
, by the way, they can compel anyone except for other
Ellri
.”