Chapter 27
Bartol
Thirty-six hours had passed since they’d discovered Cori had gone missing, and they were no closer to finding her. Bartol was in a near state of panic at this point. Through the bond, he’d felt his mate suffering and her hope fading. Griff had been hurting her in agonizing ways that would surely kill her if he didn’t stop soon.
The previous night, Bartol had been reduced to curling into a ball, unable to do anything except ride the pain with Cori and try futilely to reach out to her. According to Lucas and Melena, the bond shouldn’t have been strong enough yet for him to experience her pain while conscious, which led them to believe the situation had to be quite bad if he did. He only wished he’d forged an even stronger connection so that he could find her.
For now, the agony had stopped, but the vampire would be awake again soon.
Bartol rode in the passenger seat of Emily’s red Hummer, drumming his fingers on the armrest as he scanned the roadside. He knew he wouldn’t find Griff or Cori standing there just waiting to be found, but he needed to do something. Tormod was in the backseat watching the roads just as closely. The nerou had been deeply upset when he found out what happened and insisted on riding along with Bartol and Emily during the search. Lucas and Melena formed their own team, and there were more than a dozen other groups scouring the area as well. It was a mystery how they had not discovered Griff yet.
“Still not picking up anything,” Emily said, frustration on her face.
Bartol pointed up ahead to a narrow dirt road they’d missed when they traveled this way earlier. “Turn there. It should get us to an area we haven’t covered yet.”
Everyone had sectors to check around the Fairbanks region. They’d divided the nerou off into teams with the werewolves working during the day and vampires taking a turn at night. This was probably the largest-scale search that had ever been done by supernaturals for a human being. It humbled Bartol that so many had come out to help, even if he had been a little demanding about it.
Whether Cori realized it or not, she was a favorite within the community. It likely helped that she was the primary tattoo artist for most of them since she had adapted her skills to their healing abilities, and she showed no fear of them. Cori was kind yet sarcastic to everyone, regardless of their race, making them feel comfortable around her. She truly had no idea of her value.
“Are you sensing anything?” Bartol asked after a few minutes, growing more impatient as the sun fell farther in the sky.
They were in a remote area northeast of Fairbanks that didn’t get much traffic, and there weren’t a lot of homes. It wasn’t very far from where Bartol had come through the portal from Purgatory. He noted the forest was still scarred from the fire outbreaks during the spring, and large swaths of trees were gone. The only advantage to that was it made it easier to see deeper into the land without the thick vegetation getting in the way.
Emily clutched the steering wheel. “Nothing. I don’t think they’re here.”
Bartol’s phone rang. He checked the screen and saw Melena’s name pop up.
“Yes,” he answered.
“I just got a call from Yvonne,” the sensor said, sounding breathless. “She’s agreed to let Micah heal her so she can do a locator spell on Cori.”
Bartol had heard Melena went to visit the mystic in the hospital. Yvonne had been adamant that she didn’t want “supernatural” help and believed she should let nature take its course. That wasn’t unusual for her race. They believed their magic was at its best when they kept themselves untainted, but of course there were always exceptions. He desperately hoped this was one.
“Are you certain?” Bartol asked, afraid to get his hopes up.
“Yes. She feels she owes Cori that much,” Melena paused, “but there’s just one catch.”
Bartol leaned forward in his seat, noting the others in the vehicle were listening just as closely with their enhanced hearing. “What?”
“We need something personal of Cori’s that means a lot to her if we want to find her.”
He thought back to her belongings at his cabin. “That won’t be a problem.”
“Great,” Melena said, sounding relieved. “Micah will need some time to heal Yvonne and then she’ll need a few hours to rest and let her magic regenerate. Can you meet us at Derrick’s place around midnight?”
That was over six hours away. Bartol wished they could speed up the process, but he could hardly blame the delay on Yvonne when she didn’t have to help at all. “I will be there with the item you requested.”
“Okay. See you then.”
Emily let out a sigh of relief, then began turning the Hummer around. “Thank, God. I was beginning to think we were never going to get a break.”
Bartol did as well, though he didn’t voice his thoughts aloud.
***
The reception area was full when Bartol made his way inside the alpha werewolf’s home. Everyone stared at him as he walked across the foyer, carrying a painting he’d carefully wrapped in brown paper. Only the people involved in the locator spell would be allowed to view the portrait. Bartol hated to use it at all, but he felt certain the emotions Cori had for the painting were stronger than anything else she owned. He could not risk using anything less that might not allow them to find her.
It felt good to be doing something useful, and it allowed him to focus on the matter at hand. Bartol hadn’t experienced a fresh round of pain from Cori yet, but he suspected it was only a matter of time. The vampire had likely slowed down because he was on the verge of killing his captive—not a comforting thought at all.
“You’ve got it?” Melena asked, heading toward him. She’d been standing in a group with Lucas, Micah, Yvonne, and Dianne. Emily and Tormod were sitting nearby as well.
He held up his wrapped package. “Yes, but it is very personal to Cori. I do not want anyone aside from the mystics and her closest friends seeing it.”
“Okay.” Melena turned and called for everyone’s attention. “A special thanks to everyone who has helped in the search for Cori. Except for those involved in the spell, everyone else needs to clear out of the room. We’ll let you know as soon as we have a location.”
Dozens of sups filed out, giving Bartol probing looks. Several stared at the disfigured side of his face for longer than necessary, but after he started glaring at them, most of the others averted their gazes. He was tired of everyone trying to figure out how a nephilim got permanent burn scars.
The master of Fairbanks, Derrick, shut the reception room doors after everyone cleared out. Bartol breathed a sigh of relief now that there were fewer people crowding around him. He’d come a long way for Cori’s sake these past weeks, but it wasn’t that much easier for him to be around others. He still had an urge to flash home rather than tolerate more scrutiny.
Melena held out a hand. “Can I see?”
Bartol clutched the frame. Until now, he’d been the only one privileged enough to see the painting. He may have stumbled upon the portrait without Cori’s permission, but he still felt a certain amount of protectiveness over her most personal possessions. He forced himself to relax his grip, knowing time was of the essence.
“Here,” he said, lifting it toward her outstretched hand. “Please take great care with it.”
“Of course.”
Melena took a knee and carefully unwrapped the brown paper from around the painting. Lucas, Micah, Emily, Tormod, and several others came closer as the portrait was revealed. Bartol’s chest tightened as his gaze fell upon it, and he remembered the story Cori told him about how her daughter died. He also recalled the images he’d seen in her mind when they’d mated. He’d seen a happy child who loved to sing and dance. Faith wrapped a spell around anyone who saw her, and she would have grown up to be an amazing woman.
Melena gasped. “That was Cori’s daughter!”
“What happened to her?” Emily asked, confused. “I didn’t even know she had a daughter.”
“Neither did we until recently,” Lucas replied. Then he went on to give her the short version of how Griff killed the little girl while drinking and driving one night.
Micah growled. “No wonder she tried to murder him.”
“We need to make sure he stays dead this time,” Tormod added.
“Enough!” Yvonne cried out, giving them all reproving looks. “Your emotions are going to overlap Cori’s if you keep voicing them this close to the painting.”
Everyone backed away except Melena, who was still holding the portrait.
“Let me see it,” the mystic beckoned. She might be old, but Micah’s healing power had given her some of her strength back. Who knew what she might do to them if they upset her.
Bartol appreciated that she didn’t like wasting time.
Melena handed the portrait over, not letting go until she was certain Yvonne had a solid grip on it. The older woman with long, silver hair that ran down nearly to her waist stared at the image of Cori’s daughter. Then she set it on a chair for further study.
“She poured her heart and soul into this,” Yvonne said, voice softer than before. She grazed her fingertips over the paint. “It’s there in every brushstroke.”
Melena had a sheen of tears in her eyes as she tried to contain herself while still staring at the work of art. She sucked in a breath. “Will it be enough for you to find her?”
“If it isn’t, something is terribly wrong,” the mystic replied. Then she turned and gestured for everyone to come forward and hold hands. “To be safe, I’d have all of those who are closest to Cori participate in the spell—except the sensors.”
Of course, their immunity to magic would cause problems.
“What about me?” Tormod asked.
The mystic lifted a brow. “Can you open yourself to magic and fuel it?”
He nodded. “I’ve done it before.”
“Then you can participate,” Yvonne informed him. She looked at Bartol next. “I will hold the painting with one hand, and I need you to hold it with one of yours to complete the circle.”
“Of course.” He moved to the position she directed. Lucas came to stand beside him, and though it wasn’t easy, Bartol allowed the nephilim to take his hand.
Micah and Derrick were next. After that Diane, Yvonne’s daughter, took the last position next to her mother. The older mystic waited until they were all connected, asked for silence, and then began chanting.
The thrum of magic filled the room, thickening the air. It had a dark flavor to it that was strange to Bartol. His lids grew heavy and his stomach churned. He noted many of the others experiencing similar discomfort, which was a strange reaction to have with this kind of spell. A shock of electricity ran through the group, hitting Bartol so hard he jerked away from Lucas and the painting. His knees grew weak, and he fell to his knees.
“Oh, my,” Yvonne said, sounding far away. “That did not go well at all.”
Bartol struggled to open his eyes, feeling as weak as he had in Purgatory. When he could finally see around him, he noted Lucas, Micah, Derrick, and Tormod had been brought down as well. Only the mystic women remained standing.
He pulled himself back to his feet. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure but…” She looked around the circle. “Something is affecting those with angel blood. I sensed something dark when I tried to connect to Cori that felt like it was seeking the angelic force and eating at it.”
Melena came toward them. “What could possibly do that?”
“I have no idea,” Yvonne answered, perplexed. “I did not know it was even possible.”
Derrick shook his head. “We should have known that vampire had something helping him elude us.”
Bartol agreed, though it didn’t bode well for them if Griff had those sorts of connections. It only made him worry about Cori that much more. Not only had her ex-husband gained strength by becoming a vampire, but he also had allies aiding his cause. They had to be powerful to thwart anyone with angel blood—something unheard of until now.
“We’ll have to worry about that later,” Yvonne said, clasping her hands together. “If I cannot draw upon the power of those present, then it must be with others who know Cori.”
“Kariann could do it,” Melena suggested.
The female vampire in question burst into the room. “I thought you guys would never ask.”
Derrick frowned at her. “Were you listening outside the door?”
She strutted toward them, appearing every bit an Amazon warrior with her blond hair flowing down her back and leather battle garb hugging her muscular frame. “It was my job to guard the doors, and I can’t help it if my hearing is good.”
“Wait,” Melena said. “I thought vampires were originally born from nephilim, which would give her angel blood. How could she help?”
“Black magic and death negate any ties they have to us,” Bartol informed her. “It should be fine.”
He didn’t like how this was going so far, but they’d have to figure it out as they went along. He would not leave Cori to that monster no matter the risk to him and his friends.
Yvonne beckoned to Kariann. “We will have to make do with you. Everyone else needs to stand back and stay quiet.”
They moved across the reception room to where the sensors had waited. The mystics began to chant again with Dianne holding the other end of the painting this time. Long minutes passed as magic thickened the room once more, but this time it felt natural. The air wasn’t as cloying, and there wasn’t a sharp charge to it.
Finally, the chanting abated and Yvonne looked up. “Without more people to draw power from, I could not get a precise location, but I have found the general area where Cori is located. She is near a town called Livengood. If you wish to find her quickly, you will want to take as many people as you can to search the area.”
“No wonder we couldn’t find Cori.” Melena shook her head. “That’s almost a two-hour drive north of here.”
“I’m flashing there now,” Bartol said, unwilling to wait a moment longer.
“Don’t.” Diane gave him a warning look. “You can’t do this alone if you wish to succeed.”
“I’ll get some of my people together, and we’ll start heading out right away,” Derrick announced, leaving the room before anyone could respond. Kariann followed him.
Lucas moved toward Bartol. “This is for the best. We have no way of knowing what to expect up there, and you could use all the help you can get.”
“We’ll all help,” Melena added, sympathy in her gaze. “She’s my friend too, so I understand.”
It was a delay Bartol did not like at all. Cori had already been suffering her former husband’s abuse for too long, and she needed to be rescued before it was too late. He didn’t like waiting at all, but he also wasn’t stupid. If the mystic said it was necessary, he would not ignore her warning. Cori’s welfare came first.
“Very well, but if we do not leave in the next twenty minutes, I will go alone,” Bartol vowed.
Everyone exploded into action.