Tempt Me When the Sun Goes Down (15 page)

Only we didn’t. 

We didn’t find the gypsies near the next town, or the one after that.  I started to wonder if Rob’s cousin Kenna didn’t have some kind of alternate agenda in sending us out in the completely wrong direction.  Rob slumped over in his seat long before dawn threatened, and that limited our ability to gauge where else to look for his distant family.  Lee and Bishop switched places when the shifter got to be too tired behind the wheel, but eventually, even he started to tire.  We’d long ago left the main highway, and I secretly wondered if we were lost. 

Finally, we had to stop and reassess our plans when the sky started to turn a rosy pink.  “I haven’t seen a house or any signs of life in a while.  What are we going to do about the sun?” I asked, my gaze pinned to the horizon.

“If we don’t come upon something soon, we’ll have to go to ground,” Bishop replied grimly. 

“You mean in the ground, as in bury ourselves in the dirt?”  The thought of it sent flurries of panic deeper than the thought of Rob getting his fang on with Carys again. 

Carys seemed to share my opinion of it.  “I’m not going to ground, I’ll get filthy,” she said, wrinkling her nose with distaste.  “There must be a farmhouse or something nearby.” 

“I’m not saying it’s the best option, but we might not have a choice,” Bishop shrugged. 

Twenty minutes later, the lightening sky started to sting my eyes and there was still no sign of civilization in sight as Bishop pulled over, bringing the car to rest under a copse of trees that provided some measure of protection. 

“I think this is it.  We’d better bed down here for the night.”

“What’s goin’ on?” Lee asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“We pushed it too far, we need to get out of the sun,” Bishop replied, slipping on a pair of sunglasses as he stepped out of the car.  “Help me see if there’s something we can use to dig in the boot of the car.”

I didn’t have any sunglasses, but I pulled my scarf up over the top of my head as I climbed out of the car, stumbling over my feet in my early morning clumsiness while Rob slept on in the back seat.  Carys sat in the back while we dug through the trunk, refusing to accept the situation.  Luckily, there was a compact spade in the back, along with a tarp, which Bishop immediately shook out and laid across the top of the trunk, shielding us while Lee began to dig in the soft earth. 

“It doesn’t have to be deep, just enough to block out the sun,” Bishop called out, pulling Rob from the car once he gauged Lee had the hole deep enough.  Dead to the world, Rob didn’t stir as he laid him in the ground and we all brushed the dirt back into the hole, covering him.

“Will he really be okay like that?” I worried aloud, half of a mind to get back in the car with Carys and huddle under the tarp rather than think about going into the ground.  “What if an animal comes along and digs him up?”

“Won’t no critters want to dig up the likes of you.  You smell like death to them,” Lee said solemnly, starting on the next shallow grave.  “Besides, I’ll be around to make sure nothin’ disturbs ya while you rest,” he promised.

Once Carys began to grasp the fact that we intended to stay put, she tottered out of the car, heels sinking into the patchy grass.  “I don’t need to sleep yet, there’s no need to settle here.  Let’s keep pushing on.”

As much as I hated to take her side in any matter, I had to agree.  Almost anything sounded better than letting Lee bury me alive.  “Maybe she’s right?  For all we know there’s an inn on the other side of that hill.”

“It’s possible,” Bishop agreed.  “Do you want to take that chance though?  It’ll take some time to dig enough space for all of us.  We’ll run out of time if we spend it all chasing after shelter that might not be there.  But we’ll go on if that’s what you want.”

“What if Lee keeps digging and we drive farther up the road?” I suggested.

“It’s settled then, let’s go,” Carys declared, going back to the car, but Lee wasn’t as swayed.

“I’d rather stick by your side, see that you don’t run into trouble now that the sun’s comin’ up.”

“Then I’ll stay here too,” I decided.  “I’d rather not be split up, but maybe you should go on without us?”

“That’s commendable,” Carys said, tugging at Bishop’s arm.  “We’ll see you at dusk.  Come along, Ulrik.”

Bishop didn’t budge an inch.  “We’ll all stay here.”

Carys gave another tug, but he couldn’t be moved.  “I told you, I won’t go to ground like an animal,” she whined.

“Then don’t.  You can sleep in the trunk.”  He gestured to the ample space and I wondered if there was room for me to crawl in there with her. 

Her pretty features clouded with doubt.  “Is it safe?”

“It’s perfectly fine.  Check it out for yourself.” 

She leaned inside, testing the texture of the carpeted interior gingerly before climbing inside, her face dubious as she settled her skirt around her legs.  “Won’t you join me?” she called out as he started to close the lid and Bishop shook his head.

“There isn’t room.  Besides, I’m not the one who has a problem going to ground.  I’ll see you when the sun goes down, Carys.”  With that, he slammed the trunk shut before she could make any more objections.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I murmured, pulling the tarp up over my head now that the trunk was closed.  “Being buried alive?”

“Sure you can,” Bishop assured me, ducking under the tarp with me.  “You know once you pass out you won’t be aware of your surroundings, and it’s not like being actually buried alive at all.” 

The rational part of my mind could accept those things, but it didn’t make me feel any better about the thought of going into the ground with all the bugs and crawly things.  “What if I get turned around in the night and start to dig the wrong way out?”

Bishop’s arm found its way around my shoulders for a comforting squeeze.  “It’s only a few inches of soil above you.  You won’t have to dig your way out at all, I promise.  And I’ll be there to pull you out if you get into any trouble.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.  I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

I looked deep into his eyes and saw his absolute pledge there and I believed him.  If Bishop thought I could do it, I must be able to. 

“I reckon this one’s deep enough,” Lee reported, standing back from his work, sweat standing out on his brow despite the chill of the morning air.  Bishop let go of me to spread the tarp out for me to lie on.  My eyes were streaming, partly from the sun and partly from the unreasoning panic that grabbed hold of me and didn’t let go as I climbed down into the hole. 

“You’ll be fine,” he winked, smiling down at me before he wrapped the rest of the tarp over me like a taco, so I wouldn’t get too filthy.  “I’ll see you in the evening, Anja.”

“G’nite,” I murmured, biting my teeth together to keep them from chattering, but I still whimpered when I felt the first clods of dirt hit the tops of my feet.  It’s stupid, I know, but the more dirt Lee piled onto me, the more trapped I felt, even though it was a shallow grave at best.  Even that small amount of weight pressed against me, and I went into full panic mode as my lungs constricted. 

“I can’t do this!” I squeaked, pushing the tarp free and taking in great gulps of air as I sat up.  The sun stung my exposed face and arms, and I could hardly see through the protective tears my eyes produced.  “Just cover me with the tarp and weight it down with some rocks or something,” I wailed, still shaking from head to foot. 

“That’s not going to be good enough,” Bishop frowned.  At least his voice sounded all frowny, he was little more than a blur to me.  “Give me that shovel.”  I felt the dirt cleared off of my legs and breathed a sigh of relief, waiting for him to help me out of the hole.  Instead of giving me a hand up, Bishop climbed in beside me, pulling the tarp over both of our heads as he held me close in the confined space, his knees drawn up to make room for his longer legs. 

“Go ahead, Lee,” he called out, and almost immediately, I felt the thud of dirt on my legs again.

“No, I can’t do this,” I gulped, dragging in a painful breath as my lungs seized up. 

“Anja, look at me,” he commanded, his stern voice penetrating my terror.  To my surprise, I could see the outline of his face even with the tarp over our heads.  “I’m here with you and you’re going to get through this.”

I heard the words, but the fear didn’t completely recede.  “But… I can’t… can’t breathe…” I managed to get out, and he reached up to brush the tears away from my cheek. 

“You don’t need to breathe, remember?  Just relax.  The only air you need is if you want to talk, and you can recycle the same air over and over again.  It’s physically impossible for you to suffocate in here.”

My mouth popped open as I realized he was right, but it didn’t lessen the burning in my chest.  “It still hurts,” I hiccupped, and he laid his hand over my heart where it ached the most. 

“Hold your breath with me and count to ten inside your head.”

I did as he said and the pressure did ease some, though I still trembled with every new shovel of dirt that hit, especially when it landed directly over our heads and the dim light faded. 

“Are you still counting?” he rumbled in the darkness.  “Switch to German.”

I nodded, and he led me through a half dozen languages, leading by example when he hit upon one I wasn’t familiar with.  My brain occupied, it got easier until I realized I was getting weaker, and that sent my panic into overdrive again. 

“I’m slipping away,” I murmured, fighting against it, and I felt his lips against my cheek as he spoke. 

“It’s just the sun rising higher in the sky.  You face this every morning.  Can you feel your body growing heavier?”

“Yes, I feel it.”

“Your body wants to sleep.  Let it drift away.” 

I was already drifting.  He sounded farther away, but I couldn’t let go completely, not yet.  “What if I don’t come back?”

His lips curved against my cheek.  “Then I’ll find you and bring you back.  You trust me to keep you safe, don’t you?”

“Yes.” 

Bishop’s lips brushed against mine in the lightest of kisses.  “Sleep then, Anja.  I’ll be here when you wake.” 

* * *

There was light, despite the tarp pulled over our heads, that’s the first thing I noticed.  The second thing I noticed was Bishop’s steadfast gaze and the way his lips curved into a smile when he saw I was awake.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said softly, his words rumbling through me where our chests pressed together.  “Anyone ever tell you you’re a late sleeper?”

“I am not!” I protested, pretending to be offended, because I knew it’d make him smile more.  “I think I do pretty well for a vamp who just entered her toddler years.” 

“Yeah, I forget you’re such a newbie sometimes,” he allowed, smiling wider as predicted. 

“How long have you been awake?”  If I focused, I could hear muffled voices, Lee’s deep baritone and a higher register that was probably Carys.

“Not all that long.”

“You didn’t have to wait for me.  It’s dark out, right?”  I didn’t feel that pressure of the sun over head any longer. 

“I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

“Thanks.  I don’t think I could’ve gotten through this without you.”

“Sure you could’ve.  You’ve handled everything else that’s been tossed your way.”  Bishop had just enough wiggle room to brush the hair back from my cheek.  “Maybe that’s part of why I forget you’re so young sometimes.”

“Only part?  Is there some other reason?”

“Maybe because it feels like I’ve known you for a lifetime.”

I digested that in silence for a few seconds, enjoying the way his steady gaze warmed me.  It wasn’t true, of course, he’d known me for a tiny fraction of his four hundred and sixty-five years, but I appreciated the sentiment.  “It’s been an interesting year,” I allowed.

“I’ll say,” he sighed.  “You’ve definitely shaken things up in my world.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.  “I’m sorry,” I started to say, but he shook his head. 

“I like it.  I wish…”

“Are you going to rise or not!”  Carys’ shrill voice cut through the thin layer of dirt insulating us from the outside world, and I felt his frustrated puff of air against my cheek.

Bishop turned his head and barked, “Hold your goddamn horses.”

“There are no horses here,” came her confused reply.

“We should probably get up and start moving,” he said a lot softer to me.  “Watch your eyes now.”  Bishop was right, there was very little digging involved in getting up.  Mostly we sat up and the dirt brushed away.  There was more dirt over our legs, and I had the idea that maybe he’d already sat up once and brushed away most of the dirt covering our heads so I’d feel less claustrophobic when I woke. 

Carys stood by the shallow grave, looking as perfect as she had the night before, not a hair out of place.  I felt grubby by comparison, but a few brushes got rid of most of the dirt and the tarp had done a good job keeping the worst of it away.