Tempt Me When the Sun Goes Down by Lisa Olsen

been by her side when she made that contented purr as she fed?  How many times had she forced him to watch as she took her satisfaction from another?  It both shocked and dismayed him that it still bothered him to see her in a clinch with Jakob, even knowing that she needed his blood to repair the damage to her body.
    “Forgive me,” Jakob whispered when she released him, sated.  “I swear to you, I thought you dead.  I had no idea you were in Lodinn’s care.  Say you’ll forgive me,” he begged, kissing her forehead, her eyelid, her cheek.
    “There’s nothing to forgive,” she replied, still half in a swoon.  “I knew you’d come for me, minn hjärta .” 
    That was Bishop’s cue to leave.  He’d done what he set out to do, he’d found Carys for Jakob as commanded.  There was no reason for him to stick around, definitely not to watch their tender reunion.  He turned on his heel, prepared to go wait in the car until a single word halted him in his tracks. 
    “Ulrik?”
    He turned to find her watching him, her lips curved into a smile as though pleased to see him, but hardly with undying passion.  After weeks spent reading about her eternal love for him, it was a disappointment, to say the least.  Then again, she was still under Jakob’s compulsion not to love him, he reminded himself.  Still, it was disconcerting to see those calculating blue eyes regarding him as though it’d been scarcely a week or two since they’d last seen each other.  Maybe for her it was.
    “Hello, Carys.  It’s good to see you again,” he said simply, not quite sure what else to say.
    “How strange you sound,” she smiled, her brows drawing together in puzzlement.  “And how oddly garbed you are.  What company have you been keeping?”  Her own voice held the accent born of years of travel and a dozen languages spoken, heavily influenced by her Welsh upbringing.
    Bishop looked to Jakob, not sure how to answer.  In all the months they’d spent on the road together searching, never once had they discussed what to tell Carys once they actually found her.  Though she’d retained enough of her wits to recognize them and carry on a simple conversation, there was no telling if there were any lasting effects of Lodinn’s treatment of her.  No way to know if it could be damaging to tell her how much time had passed. 
    “That’s a question best suited for a later time,” Jakob said with an indulgent pat.  “I’m more concerned with how you are.  Are you in any pain, my treasure?  Do you need more of my blood?”
    “Pain?”  Her hand massaged her chest where the wound had fully healed, smearing the blood all over her hand, and she stared at it in confusion.  “No… there’s no pain,” she murmured, her tongue darting out to daintily lap at her sticky fingers.  
    “Yes, pain.  How long were you in torpor?” he tried again, but she merely shrugged. 
    “What’s the last thing you remember?” Bishop probed, disturbed to see her placidly ignoring them while she continued to clean her hand like a cat. 
    Carys stopped, staring off into the distance.  “There was a party, in Lichtenstein.  I wore my pretty dress…”  She looked down, her face crumpling in distress to see the bloody tear over her heart. 
    “Did no one know who you were?” Jakob asked.  “Could you not tell anyone your plight or get word to me?”
    Her blonde curls danced as she shook her head.  “No, he’d compelled me not to speak of it, and there was no one there in my acquaintance.  They were all humans,” her nose wrinkled with disdain.
    That explained why no one had known she was still alive.  “Did he do this sort of thing all the time?”
    “Not too often, no.  Mostly he delighted in keeping me to himself, depriving me of all good society,” she sniffed, her eyes growing shiny with unshed tears as she turned her gaze up to Jakob, who still held her in his lap.  “He subjected me to all manner of