Chapter 23
Cori
Cori paced between the living room and kitchen, unable to stand still. The last week had been rough, worrying about whether Bartol was dead or worse, but somehow waiting for him to call her after finding out he was alive was harder. She needed to hear his voice to truly believe it.
“Will you please sit down?” her mother asked, calm and collected while she sat on the couch knitting a yellow blanket.
“I can’t.” Cori glanced at her cell phone. “He could call at any minute.”
“And you’ll be too out of breath to talk to him, assuming you don’t pass out.” She shook her head and sighed. “I wish you could see how pale you are right now.”
“I’m fine.”
Joy gave her a censorious look. “No, you’re not. You’ve hardly eaten a thing all week, and when you do, you usually throw it back up. It’s a miracle you’re standing.”
This wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument in the last few days. “I’m not exactly human anymore, Mom. I can handle it.”
“Sweetheart, I think you should consider…”
Cori’s cell phone rang. She held up a hand to her mother, silencing her, and answered. “Bartol?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
Her knees went weak at hearing his voice. Cori grabbed the nearest seat at the dining room table and sank down on it. “I’ve been worried.”
“I know, and I’m sorry for that.” His voice came out raw and tired. “Remiel insisted we shower and eat before we did anything else.”
“It’s okay. He told us you’d need time to recuperate, and if you need more it’s alright, I just needed to hear your voice.” She didn’t want to let him go this fast, but she could only imagine what he’d been through, and how he might need time to himself.
“No. I need to hear your voice as well.”
She closed her eyes, wishing she could be in the same room with him. “This mating bond is making me crazy.”
“You are not the only one.” She could almost ‘hear’ him smile. “Are you doing well?” he asked.
“I’m doing better now, but I’m still worried about you. Remiel said he found you and Caius deep inside a mountain in Norway, but he didn’t say what happened while you were there—and there’s no sign of Tormod.”
“The demon took the three of us minutes after we arrived in Prague,” Bartol explained. “We didn’t stand a chance of getting away from him before he hit us with some sort of dark spell. I have no idea what happened after that until waking earlier today. Well, with the exception of one thing.” Bartol went on to explain how they’d found the demon’s symbol carved onto their backs and how it affected them.
She shuddered. “That’s horrible. Are they gone now?”
“Yes, though we had to remove them before Remiel could locate us.”
“How…how did you do it?” Cori knew she probably shouldn’t ask, but she needed to understand everything Bartol had been through—even the worst parts.
A few seconds of silence passed. “It wasn’t pretty. We had to cut and peel the skin off each other’s backs with a jagged piece of rock.”
Her gut clenched as she envisioned what that must have looked and felt like. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve had worse,” Bartol admitted. “Kerbasi prepared me for just about anything…with the exception of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, pretending to be offended.
“If I’ve learned anything on this journey so far, it is that I want it to be over as quickly as possible so that I can return to you. I have no idea how I got caught up in your tangled web, but I miss being in it.”
“Ha, ha.” Cori almost smiled. “You have no idea how much I want to hop on a plane right now and fly to you. If not for my mother and the others talking me out of it, I’d probably be on my way already.”
“I’m glad they are keeping you there,” he said, voice turning stern. “It is too dangerous for you to leave Alaska until this demon is dead.”
She found that debatable, considering it was clearly not safe for Bartol out there, either. “So what is the plan for tracking and killing the damn thing?”
“That’s complicated.”
Cori didn’t miss the hesitation in his voice at answering her. “How so?”
“Remiel believes I must take part in the slaying.”
She clutched her cell phone. “Why you? And how are you supposed to do that when you can’t even get close?”
“The archangel has a plan for that, though it won’t be an easy one.” He went on to describe how they’d use sensors to nullify the Gregorian stones in the first phase.
“Even if they manage it…” Cori thought it over. “I don’t think sensors could pull it off without a lot of protection since the only ones you could use will be mortal, assuming you find enough volunteers. And if—by some miracle—that works, why do they think you could take out the demon?”
“I’ve recently learned it’s in my blood…and that I’d have help from someone else,” he replied, once more hesitating.
Cori took a deep breath, trying to be patient though she really didn’t like this plan already, and she didn’t even know all the details yet. “Who?”
“My father.”
Stunned, she dropped the phone in her lap and had to scramble to pick it back up. “Your father? But I thought he’d be fallen or something.”
“I did as well until today.” Bartol cleared his throat. “But according to Remiel, they did not send him to Hell because they couldn’t afford to lose him.”
“What makes him so special?”
“I asked the same question.” He let out an ironic laugh. “Raguel—my father—used to be the head of a legion of angels who fought demons during the battles with Hell. Apparently, when he got in trouble for siring me, they decided they couldn’t lose him and put him in stasis instead. Remiel says I’ve inherited the ability to slay demons from my sire.”
Cori took a moment to process the news. “Do you think you can?”
“I have once before…long ago, but there was a price.”
Why hadn’t he told her this before he left on his trip? It would have made her feel a little better about sending him if she’d known what he could do, and it explained why Remiel supported his going on the trip. “What’s the price?”
“Killing a demon sends me into a berserker rage. I absorb a certain amount of their power when I kill them, which makes me lose my mind. Anyone nearby—especially mortals—are vulnerable.” He paused, sucking in a breath. “The first and only time I killed a demon, more than a dozen humans died in the aftermath. Caius couldn’t stop me, so he had to convince a fae to put me into a deep sleep. It took six months before I could regain control over myself again.”
Cori sat there frozen. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“I was ashamed,” Bartol admitted.
“Even after you found out what I’d done to Griff?” she asked. It wasn’t like she didn’t have any blood on her hands either, and her excuse wasn’t nearly as good.
He expelled a breath. “You can’t compare the two of us. What happened with me occurred long ago, and it was hardly worth bringing up until now.”
They’d have to argue that point later, but for now, she’d let it be, considering they had more important things to discuss. “So if killing a demon turns you into a berserker, what does it do to your father?”
“Remiel says my sire has more control, and he might be able to help me.”
That was encouraging. “So between the two of you, you should be able to take this demon down without losing your minds?”
“That is the theory, though I don’t feel as confident as Remiel.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because I remember the killing rage I felt as I absorbed some of the demon’s essence—and he wasn’t even as powerful as the one I will face soon. I don’t think the little time I’ll have with my father before the battle will be enough to prepare me.” He was silent for a moment. “There is a reason I’ve avoided fighting for all these years and chose other activities instead. I never wanted to risk hurting anyone again should I lose control.”
Cori was beginning to see why he stayed away from conflict. She’d thought it was part of his personality, but now she understood Bartol’s battle with the last demon influenced him in ways she hadn’t known about before. He was afraid of hurting people, which she could respect.
If only the fate of the world wasn’t in her mate’s hands.
“You’re older, stronger, and you have me now,” she said, sounding more confident than she felt.
He made a noise of disgruntlement. “That may not be enough.”
If it were up to her, she would keep him close in Alaska, but she’d seen the news. The demon was racking up a body count, and according to Remiel, it would only get worse from here on out. Someone had to stop the damned creature before it was too late. Cori might have her faults, but she wouldn’t sacrifice world safety for selfish reasons. It sounded like Bartol—with his father’s help—could win this fight. She had to let him do it and pray he came back to her.
“I have faith in you.”
“I appreciate that,” he said. “But your faith may not be enough.”
More than anything, Cori wanted to see Bartol finally find confidence in himself again. She’d slowly been seeing improvement through his phone calls from Europe, but he wasn’t there yet. She suspected if he successfully battled against a demon, it might just jar him out of his reclusive, anti-social funk. Maybe it could even help in his path to healing so that their relationship could grow and become stronger.
“Are there any better options?” she asked, deciding to play devil’s advocate. “Because if there is some way you can stay out of this fight and let someone else handle it, I’d be all for that. I’d rather you come home so you could have your way with me.”
He chuckled. “When you put it like that…”
“Look, Bartol. I can’t make this decision for you, but what I can tell you is that I’m not the only one rooting for you.” She took a deep breath. “You have to ask yourself if you’re the man who can walk away from the most important battle of his life, or are you the man who is going to go out there and save all our asses from a demon intent on destroying the planet?”
“Thank you, Cori. I needed to hear that,” he said, sounding marginally more confident.
“So are you going to do it?”
He cleared his throat. “You are convincing me I should.”
Cori’s chest tightened. She hated this, and yet she knew she was doing the right thing. If their roles were reversed, she’d hope he would support her the same way. But was this how women had felt for thousands of years and countless wars when they sent their husbands off to battle, not knowing if they’d return? Did they just plaster fake smiles in place, show nothing except encouragement and enthusiasm, and stand with confidence until the man had left? Except after he was gone did they allow themselves to shed a tear and pray to God he returned? Now she understood why Melena had joined the military and always fought in the battles—even against supernaturals stronger than her. It was easier to go into battle than to stand on the sidelines and do nothing.
“Whatever you need, I’ll be here for you.”
“Thank you.” He sounded more than a little grateful for her support. “I want you to know that I’m glad that of all the women in the world—present and past—that it was you who became my mate. You’ve come to mean a lot to me.”
Cori swallowed. “Same here, Bartol.”
“Take care, and I’ll call you again soon.”
“You better,” she said.
He laughed and hung up. Cori slowly lowered the phone onto her lap, happy she’d finally talked to her mate and yet numb from everything they’d discussed.
Joy made her way over to her, hiding something behind her back. “That conversation must not have been easy.”
Cori blinked back tears. “No, it wasn’t.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think you did the right thing,” her mother said.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“But there’s something else you have to worry about now, sweetheart.”
Cori furrowed her brows. “What’s that?”
Joy pulled her arm out from behind her back and revealed a small pink box. “You need to take a pregnancy test.”
“But I can’t be…” her voice broke off. Quick mental math told her she absolutely could be, but still. “Nephilim are cursed and can’t have children.”
“I talked to Melena, honey. You’d be surprised how many people are already suspicious that you’re pregnant, but they wanted you to figure it out on your own when you were ready. I just can’t be that patient anymore.” Her mother sat on one of the dining room chairs closest to her, setting the box to the side to take her hands. “It’s possible you got just enough of your friend’s blood to make you immune to the nephilim curse.”
“You’ve already talked about this with my friends?” Cori asked, horrified.
Joy shook her head. “They came to me. Everyone’s noticed you’ve been sick lately, and Derrick says you smell different. Melena claims that in the last week or so she’s noted your signature—whatever that means—has started to change to reflect a second, different one near your stomach. She says it probably coincided with when the baby’s heart started to beat.”
Cori looked down at her flat stomach, pressing a hand there. “I didn’t think I would ever have any more children.”
“Take the test to be sure,” her mother pleaded.
This was almost scarier than convincing Bartol to go off to battle with a powerful demon.
“Alright,” she said, and with shaking hands, she grabbed the test to bring with her to the downstairs bathroom.
Cori shut the door behind her and stared at herself for a long minute, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. How could she have missed this? True, they could have only conceived less than a month ago, but it wasn’t her first time being pregnant. She’d gotten sick with her daughter as well, so she should have known. Then again, she had been distracted.
She pulled the test from the box, quickly read over the instructions, and made the final leap to find out for certain. The next few minutes were the longest in Cori’s life, but there was no mistaking the answer on the digital readout.
Pregnant.
Her stomach rumbled, and she had to twist around fast to bury her head in the toilet. There wasn’t much in her stomach, but the water she drank and crackers she’d eaten came up. For a few minutes, she kneeled there sweating and fighting the urge to cry.
How was she going to tell Bartol about this? And did she do it before or after he fought the demon? Telling him before could be a distraction, but not telling him meant there was a chance he’d never know he was going to be a father. She’d have to consider her options carefully. First, though, Cori needed time to process the news herself.
She left the bathroom and handed the test to her mother. “You were right.”
“You don’t look happy,” Joy said, studying Cori closely.
“I’m scared to death.”
Her mother gave her a sage look. “I know I was both times.”
“What did you have to be scared about?” she asked, confused. “You and Dad were happily married.”
“Bringing a new life into this world is never an easy or simple thing, sweetheart—even if we planned for it.”
Cori touched her stomach, this time wishing she could feel the life inside, but it was still too small for her to detect. “I don’t even know what this baby might become. Will it be like the nerou? Will the angels make him or her become an enforcer when it grows up? I don’t…I don’t even know what to think.”
“There will be time to figure out all of that.” Her mother set the test on the nearest table and pulled her into a hug. “For me, I’m just excited to have another grandchild on the way.”
Cori hugged her mother back. “You’re going to start planning the nursery right away, aren’t you?”
The yellow blanket her mother had been knitting now made more sense.
“I’ve already been searching for just the right crib,” Joy said, pulling back with a broad smile on her face. “You’ll have to tell me what you think.”
Cori was no longer sure who the baby would need protection from the most—a conquering demon, the archangels, or her mother. “How about we hold off on that until Bartol is back?”
Joy sighed. “You’re no fun.”