Chapter 18
Bartol
He stared out of his hotel room in Warsaw, Poland at the thick blanket of snow below, covering the city streets and yards. It was still falling with no end in sight. Cars moved slowly, and the few pedestrians out that evening were bundled up tightly as they shuffled to their destinations. Christmas lights twinkled on a few of the buildings, reflecting their bright colors against the snow around them. Since when had everyone started decorating so early for the holidays? They were a mere week into December and yet he’d been noticing festive scenes all over Europe.
Bartol had never been to so many countries in such a short period, which made the Christmas decorations he kept seeing stand out that much more. He, Caius, and Tormod had been to half a dozen towns and cities since leaving Budapest, bouncing throughout the region as they tracked down every lead they had. They’d found no definitive signs of the demon, but they did discover evidence of his growing number of followers and their activities.
At best guess, at least fifty people had died in the last week alone by Haagenti worshipers who killed in his name or compelled innocent humans to sacrifice themselves in his name. Masters of various regions were working non-stop to track down these wayward demon followers and put a stop to the deaths, but there were more converting every day. As far as Bartol could tell, all the demon had to do was touch a supernatural—who wasn’t too old or powerful—and they would fall at Haagenti’s feet, doing whatever he wanted. It was almost as if the demon knew he was being tracked and did this to slow Bartol and the others down, but then again, most denizens of Hell wanted followers. The more they had, the stronger they became.
He was cursing himself for not learning more on the topic over the years, rather than avoiding it. Bartol had his reasons, though, and still felt they were valid. Demonology was a subject he would have preferred to avoid forever.
Taking his cell phone out, he pulled up Cori’s name. It was time he called and gave her an update, especially since he’d have to relocate again that night. It reassured her to know where he was at all times, and he’d grown to appreciate her concern. Bartol couldn’t remember the last time anyone worried about him. It felt good—even if he still questioned her feelings.
“Hello,” she answered on the second ring, sounding breathless.
Bartol paced his hotel suite. It was nice and spacious, giving him plenty of space to walk. “Are you busy?”
“Oh, uh…” She gasped in a breath. “Not exactly. It’s just that getting settled into the cabin is still keeping me busy—and so is my mother.”
He chuckled. A couple of days ago, Cori had been the one to call him complaining about how he’d forced her mother on her. Bartol had warned her never to call him during his trip unless it was an emergency, but he’d suspected his little surprise would draw quite a bit of ire. Cori had been furious. It had gone a long way to assuaging the feelings of betrayal he’d had after she’d conspired with his friends against him.
“How is she doing?” he asked.
“Would you like to talk to her?”
No, he wouldn’t. Joy would keep him on the phone for an hour, speaking about things that made no sense to him. “I don’t have much time.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Cori made a sound of annoyance. “Where are you now?”
“Warsaw, but I’m leaving for Prague within the hour.”
She was quiet a moment. “So no luck finding the demon yet?”
“No, but we just received a tip from Zoe this evening that one of her nerou saw him in a dream, somewhere around downtown Prague. We’re hopeful we’ve finally got him.”
Zoe had started having her nerou seers take naps during the day and rest more often to help encourage their visions and dreams. The move may have finally paid off, assuming the demon was there in real time or very close to it. They’d have to act quickly to find out.
“That’s good. But please—don’t get too close. Call Remiel and let the archangels handle it.” Her voice changed, cracking a little. “I don’t want to lose you.”
His chest tightened. More and more, Cori was opening up to him, showing hints that she truly cared and that maybe her feelings weren’t an act. And with every phone call, he could feel their bond strengthening. Bartol was more determined than ever to finish his job and return to her. There were so many things he wanted to do and say, but he had to wait until they were face to face again.
“Wouldn’t losing me make things easier for you?” he asked, testing her.
“Absolutely not!” she said vehemently. “I know I’ve said and done some stupid things since this whole mating thing started, but I swear I really do care about you. The longer you’re gone, the more I’ve begun to realize I want you in my life.”
“Are you certain of that?” He still couldn’t believe his beautiful, sassy mate wanted him. It was easier to believe she had some ulterior motive.
“Yes,” she swore.
Bartol wanted to believe her so badly, but he couldn’t let feelings distract him right now. He needed to get on with the phone call before it was time to go. “Are you enjoying your new cabin?”
“I wish you’d stop changing the subject whenever I try to tell you I care,” she grumbled. It made him smile that he could get under her skin as well. “The cabin is great, but it would be even better if you were here.”
“How could I possibly make it better?”
“For one, you could protect me from my mother, which is all your fault.” She paused, and her voice turned sultry. “And for two, I’d let you tie me up in my new bed and have your way with me. This one needs to be broken in.”
He imagined her naked and tied to the four poster bed that he knew Lucas and Melena had chosen for Cori’s master bedroom. The imagery had him growing so hard his pants became too tight. Bartol hadn’t had much time on this trip to think about sex, but it only took a few words from Cori to make him feel lust like he never had before. The woman was going to be the death of him.
“When I return, we will consider that option,” he said, tone gruff.
“Promise?”
He almost smiled. “If you behave yourself until then.”
She let out a light laugh. “I always behave myself, but that gives me good incentive.”
“Oh, I plan to give you plenty of more reasons to be good,” he said, voice husky. “Next time we speak, I’ll have a proposition for you—possibly involving us naked in your new kitchen.” Bartol could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, but he couldn’t help himself. Cori was steadily bringing out another side of him, one phone call at a time.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
A loud knock sounded at his door, and Caius called out, “It’s time to leave, Bartol.”
His time was up. “I’m sorry, but I must go. The others are waiting.”
“Be careful,” she said, resigned. “And call me again when you can.”
“I will,” he promised.
They hung up. At the beginning of the trip, he’d dreaded contacting her. It was difficult to speak with the woman after she’d rejected him and then betrayed him. He’d found it painful. But with each successive call, he’d gone from having to force himself to speak with her to enjoying their conversations. In fact, without her physical presence, he found he could relax and say things that would be more difficult in person. Bartol suspected Cori found that advantageous as well, considering how much she’d been revealing to him over the phone recently. She’d said so many things he’d thought he’d never hear from her lips.
Tucking his phone in his pocket, he went over to the bed and grabbed his bag, leaving his room key behind. He opened the door to find Caius and Tormod standing in the hallway. “I’m ready.”
“Were you having phone sex?” the nerou asked, glancing down at Bartol’s tight pants.
He should have used his bag to cover up that little problem. “No.”
“I could have sworn that was what I heard when we…”
Bartol growled at him, “Don’t make me box your ears, boy. It’s none of your business.”
Caius laughed. “There was a time when he was proud of his conquests.”
“That was long ago.”
The other nephilim shook his head. “I’m glad you found a woman for yourself as I did with my mate.” Caius looked away. “Just take care to hold on to her.”
“Was it worth it?” Bartol asked, sensing the other man’s pain.
Caius had hardly brought up the loss of his mate the whole trip, but it was clear the nephilim’s grief was always simmering just below the surface.
“I wouldn’t take it back for the world.”
A wealth of meaning stood behind those words, enough for Bartol to seriously consider the implications in relation to Cori. Immortals spent much of their lives living one long, meaningless year to the next. They valued their longevity, and yet it also served as a curse because time never ended for them. Most often, they didn’t have a real reason to appreciate it.
Tormod cleared his throat. “We should get to Prague.”
The hallway was empty for the moment, giving them the best opportunity to flash away. Bartol looked at Caius. “Did you check us out?”
“I did.”
They tried to play by human rules as much as possible.
Bartol slung his bag over his shoulder. “Then let’s meet on Petřín Hill—in front of the Hunger Wall gate.” It was a place they’d met before in the old days that was easy for them both to find. “It’s still there, isn’t it?”
Bartol had discovered during his travels that a lot of the former landmarks he’d once known were destroyed during the world wars. He didn’t know what was still around after a century-long absence.
“It’s there,” Caius confirmed. “Even after all these centuries.”
“Good.” Bartol envisioned the place in his mind, found the area he sought was empty and dark, and flashed away.
When he arrived, he found the path clear of snow and ice, though it was built up at the edges. He stood next to a juncture point where more than one wall met, and there was a taller stone structure that may have once been a lookout tower. Caius was right that nothing had changed. Even through the darkness, Bartol could identify the marlstone used to build the place with a mixture of light, cream-colored bricks and darker brown ones. How long had it been since he last visited? The best he could recall, it must have been the early seventeen hundreds.
In a bright flash of light, Caius arrived with Tormod in tow.
They broke apart, and the nerou frowned deeply as he took in their surroundings. “Something’s wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Bartol asked.
Tormod shivered. “I have a very bad feeling.”
“Let’s get to the hotel.” Caius led the way down the hill toward the city streets and hopefully a taxi. “Perhaps your bad feeling will lead us to the demon soon.”
Bartol was ready for the search to end, but like Tormod, he was starting to get chills up his spine. Compared to all the other places they’d visited in recent weeks, this one felt…darker, more ominous. He just couldn’t put his finger on the reason for his alarm.
They didn’t get far before that feeling became overwhelmingly strong. All of them stopped in their tracks, staring around into the darkness. The trees were bereft of leaves, the wind whipped around them like a ghost’s touch, and the clouds covered the moon.
A man appeared before them. He looked to be in his late sixties or early seventies, mostly bald except for tufts of gray at the back. His skin was wizened and pale, leading one to believe he rarely saw the sun. His stooped appearance might have made one think he was perfectly harmless—except for the malevolence surrounding him and his red eyes.
“I wondered when you would catch up to me,” Haagenti said in a voice much stronger than one would expect from an old man’s body.
Bartol struggled to cry out a warning. “Flash…away…now!”
Except their powers were gone. He reached for them, but there was no magic to use.
The demon held up a familiar black stone with silver veins running through it, about the size of a baseball. “I’m afraid you aren’t going anywhere.”
The three of them struggled to back away from Haagenti, but it was like trying to walk through thick mud. Their feet weighed heavily. The demon had a stone much larger than the one Bartol had seen Cori’s former husband using not long ago, and this one seemed to be even more potent.
The old man lifted his other hand, and a sphere of dark energy emerged from his palm. He blew it hard. The sinister ball flew toward them, growing larger as it traveled. Bartol wanted to duck, run, or anything to get away from it. His gut churned, knowing it was something very bad.
It hit him like a tidal wave—a sickening, cloying wave that wrapped around his skin like a sheath. It tightened until he couldn’t move at all. His body was rendered weightless, and then it was as if he was being sucked into some sort of vortex. He tried to fight it, but it was no use.
The darkness took over, and he knew no more.