Chapter 3
Cori
Cori shifted on her feet, glancing nervously toward the woods beside Bartol’s log cabin. The ground had a thick layer of undisturbed snow at least a foot deep and in some places more than two feet. There was no sign of a trail to suggest there might be anything within the thick forest. She’d be fighting for every step along the way.
“Are you sure he has a work shed back there?” Cori asked, turning to Melena.
The sensor nodded. “I’m not supposed to know about it, but I sensed him in there more than once and checked it out one day while he was gone. It’s definitely a full blown carpentry workshop, and he’s in there now.”
Cori sighed. “I don’t feel him.”
“Your mating bond is weak, but that’s good in this case because he won’t sense you coming, either. Of course, if things go well today, you won’t have that advantage anymore.”
It was rather depressing to think that they’d barely mated, and then let their bond weaken to the point she couldn’t sense him until he was really close. Cori had to rely on Melena and her ability to detect supernaturals to confirm the whereabouts of the man she was supposed to be tied to for life. Supposedly, their bond could weaken to the point of barely being discernible, but it wouldn’t break.
“Just do what I told you to do,” Melena said, nudging Cori gently. “But don’t push him too far this first time. This is a marathon, not a race. You’ve got to be careful, or this whole plan could backfire on us.”
And they couldn’t allow that to happen. Lucas had confirmed through reliable sources that there was a powerful demon moving through Europe, causing horrible deaths along the way. One of the people he’d talked to, an archangel named Remiel, insisted Bartol was the best person to meet Zoe, though he didn’t explain why. He was just very adamant about it, as if no one else could do the job better. There was something strange about that. What could her mate do that others couldn’t? Was she setting Bartol up for something dangerous even though everyone swore he just had to get the location of the demon? She was on the fence about all of it, but she also couldn’t resist her part of the plan. It was something she’d been wanting to do anyway.
“Yeah, got it. I won’t push him,” Cori said, turning away from the sensor.
She steeled her spine and began the long walk through the woods. She was supposed to go due west from the cabin, but that was easier said than done. Trees and high banks of snow blocked her path more often than not. She had to veer around them and use the faint glimpses of the sun through the high canopy to keep track of her direction. It was a good thing they’d planned this for late morning. With daylight hours in short supply, there was no way she could have made it through the woods at night by herself. Not without a flashlight and compass, which would have looked ridiculous since she was only traveling a quarter mile into the forest. Not to mention it wouldn’t have worked well with what she planned to do once she reached her destination.
Eventually, she caught sight of a large workshop made primarily of sheet metal and wood. It was larger than expected and probably about fifty feet by thirty feet with a steeply sloped metal roof and a stovepipe jutting from the top, billowing out smoke.
Bartol hated the cold, despite being immortal. She wasn’t surprised he’d added a source of heat to his private work place. In fact, she was rather glad because after slogging through the snow for twenty minutes, she was desperate for warmth. Cori could handle cold better after she’d been altered by Melena’s blood, but it was below zero outside, and her more resilient body still had its limits, especially with what she was wearing.
Cori took her time, not wanting to make too much noise during her approach. Every time she’d tried to stop by Bartol’s cabin before to talk, he’d spotted her driving up and disappeared. This shed gave her the advantage because he wasn’t expecting her to find him there, and it only had one small window next to the door that she could easily avoid by coming in from the side.
Every step was agonizing as she crept closer, finally reaching the building and skirting near the wall to avoid being seen. Training her ears, she caught the sound of metal scraping along wood in a rhythmic pattern. Mel had said he was making furniture in there, and Cori was dying to know what it looked like. She touched a gloved hand to the doorknob, turning it slowly.
This was the moment of truth. Would he stay and hear her out or would he flash away? Cori wasn’t religious—not even after meeting angels and getting a glimpse of the pearly gates—but she prayed to God that Bartol didn’t run this time. There was only so much she could take.
Pushing the door open, she stepped inside. He had his muscular back to her, sitting on a stool as he worked on a long piece of wood in front of him. She couldn’t be sure, but it might have been the beginnings of a table leg…or part of a chair? It was difficult to say at this early stage, but it was cylindrical and about three feet long.
She could finally sense him through their bond, which meant he could do the same.
He stiffened and turned his head to the side, giving her the beautiful side of his face framed by silky, golden-brown hair. “What are you doing here?”
His voice was gruff and didn’t come out all that welcoming. Her heart died a little at the complete lack of warmth. Sure, he’d been avoiding this meeting, but she’d hoped it was because he wouldn’t be able to resist her if she got close enough. A silly thought, but a woman could always dream.
Cori was nowhere near saying she loved him, but she cared for him and wanted to try making things work. It just needed to happen a little more slowly than what had taken place a mere month ago. One hot night of sex and they were bonded for life. That was not the way things worked in the human world and rarely even in the supernatural world. She’d been caught off guard. If Bartol would admit it, there had been similar surprise in his eyes as well. Neither of them had planned or expected it.
“I came to see you,” she said.
“I thought I made it clear that you should stay away,” he growled, then returned to his scraping.
She couldn’t help noticing his hands and long, dexterous fingers. They were roughened from his work with the wood, and yet they appeared strong and capable. She’d had those hands on her before. They could do things a woman only dreamed about and some things they wouldn’t have ever imagined. He might hate touching and being intimate, but his centuries of experience still shone through in what he did manage to do to her. God help her if he ever got over his time in Purgatory and the psychological damage done to him there. He’d take her over, mind and body, until she forgot herself and never returned.
Cori took a deep breath, knowing she needed to do something to mend the rift between them. “I want to tell you I’m sorry. It might have seemed like I was rejecting you, but I was in shock. Please believe me when I tell you that if I could take back leaving you that day, I would. I wish to God I’d stayed and talked to you instead.”
Silence. She waited for more than a minute for some sort of response or at least an acknowledgment that he’d heard her. The wood-burning stove was off to her left, tempting her to move closer to its warmth, but she stood her ground by the door and didn’t move. She had a plan and wouldn’t deviate from it.
“One might assume you wish you’d never left because your former husband captured you, tortured you, and nearly killed you as a result of fleeing me.” He swiveled a fraction on his stool and met her gaze, golden eyes blazing with emotion. “I would have kept you safe, and I never would have left your side the way you left mine.”
Damn, that was harsh. A lump formed in her throat. She’d run away from him soon after their one night of sex while he’d been asleep. It must have seemed like a rejection even though she’d just needed to go talk to Melena—the only other woman Cori knew who’d been through the mating process.
“I don’t mean I’d take back what happened with Griff—I most likely deserved that after what I did to him.” Because she’d believed she’d killed him years ago, but really she’d just left him for dead in a snowdrift. He’d survived thanks to someone finding him and turning him into a vampire. “I’m sorry I left you.”
“You know that isn’t my only problem with you,” he replied.
She nodded. “Because I’m not ready to fully commit and let you make me immortal.”
That was a huge step and not one she was prepared to make—even with the angels sanctioning it. Cori had already lost loved ones and suffered enough during her thirty years of life, including losing her daughter. Could she really handle centuries of losing more people she cared about? She had to be damn sure she and Bartol could make things work before she even considered that kind of commitment.
At least right now she was merely long lived and would eventually die of old age within a couple of hundred years, give or take a decade or two. She could also still be killed by mortal blows or an accident if the physical trauma was bad enough. That made life more precious to her, knowing there would be an end. But if Bartol gave her his blood and she completed the transition to immortal, it would be next to impossible for her to die.
“You haven’t changed your mind,” he surmised, jaw hardening. “I can see it in your eyes.”
She wouldn’t lie to him. “No, but it’s not as if you’ve tried very hard to convince me it would be worth taking a chance with you.”
“Either you want it, or you don’t.”
Cori pulled her blue knit cap off, freeing her dark hair. It wasn’t long—just brushing her shoulders—but Bartol’s gaze fell to the wavy locks like a man who’d been starved of a woman’s presence for a long time. Good. He might not be acting all that receptive to her yet, but subconsciously he still wanted her. She unwound her matching blue scarf next. His gaze fell on her bare neck, and he moistened his lips.
“Oh, there are some things I want from you for sure,” Cori said, taking a step forward as she let her cap and scarf fall to the floor.
His shoulders tensed. “I’m well aware of that, but you know I’m not like other men. I will never be like them. It is the only reason I understand your running away, and why you should stay away—for good.”
There was pain in Bartol’s voice as he said those final words, true anguish from a man who’d lost hope and given up on himself. Though Cori was freezing and longed to move closer to the wood stove, she made herself keep going toward him. Just one more step. Now, they were only ten feet apart. She slid her gloves off next and tossed them down, leaving a trail of clothing behind her.
“Bartol.” Her voice came out soft and alluring. “I’ll take you any way I can get you—scars, psychological damage and all. That has never been my problem and never will be. I promise.”
He sat there, stiff and uncompromising in his seat. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You’ll want more eventually, and I won’t be able to give that to you.”
She couldn’t deny that not being able to touch him, caress him, or even run her lips over his skin didn’t bother her. More than anything in the world she wanted to do those things. But she’d seen the stricken looks and horror in his eyes the few times she made the mistake of touching him too intimately. He might have learned to hold her and touch her, but it would be a long road before she could do the same to him. Bartol claimed it would never happen, but she had to believe that someday—somehow—she could break past his trauma, and they could be together in every possible way.
Cori unzipped her winter coat, which ran all the way down to her ankles, and opened it wide. Bartol sucked in a breath as he caught a glimpse of her naked body. That had been the hardest part about tromping through the snow. She had all her usual outer clothes but nothing underneath, and it had nearly frozen her. With a small shrug, she let the coat fall to the floor. The only things left were her socks and high winter boots. Cori reached down to remove those next.
“Don’t.” Bartol jerked to his feet.
There was a loud crash, brilliant light flashed all around, and then she felt strong arms grab her from behind. In the blink of an eye, he had her face down on the work table—wiped clean in the last few moments—and his hands were sculpted over her ass.
“Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked with a growl.
She was getting more turned on than she could describe just by having her mate touch her after so many weeks apart. It was all she could do to breathe out one word. “Yes.”
“Then don’t move.”
Bartol leaned down and rained kisses along her back all while continuing to caress her buttocks and thighs. Cori moaned. Dear God, he knew how to touch her in all the right places. She reached forward and gripped the far edge of the table, bracing herself for whatever came next. The roughness of the table scratched at her nipples, hardening them. And the cold? It was steadily being forgotten as the nephilim behind her raised the heat in the room with his touch and his gaze.
“You’re a fool,” he said, kneeling behind her.
Cori let him spread her legs far apart. “Just don’t stop.”
His warm breath tickled her thighs. “I don’t plan on it as long as you remain like this.”
A slick tongue ran up her leg until it reached her moist folds. He dashed out a lick and then another. She gripped the table hard, afraid she might break it. Despite the awkward position, Bartol was making it work well. He was getting her so turned on that if she didn’t have the table to brace herself, she would surely fall.
Two fingers slid inside her, and she let out a hoarse cry.
“You’re so wet I could take you right now,” he said.
“Do it.”
“Not yet.” He continued moving his fingers deep within her as he rose to his feet. “You’re not getting me that easy.”
“Please, Bartol,” she begged. Every night she’d dreamed of being with him again like this and woke wondering if it would ever happen. Part of her wanted it to last forever, and another part wanted him to speed things up.
He rested his free arm on the table and leaned over her, his mouth close to her ear. “What if I bit you again? Would you run from me this time?”
“I won’t ever run from you again,” Cori swore. At that moment, she would have promised him anything. He literally had her in the palms of his hands.
“Liar.” He added another finger, widening and preparing her for his entrance.
She rose on her toes, the pleasure almost too much to bear. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Bite me, fuck me, just do something more!”
“Such foul language.” Bartol bit her in the back of the neck with his human teeth—apparently, the fangs only came out for the initial mating process. Cori didn’t care. The pain felt good and right with him doing it, but then his fingers slid out of her, and his mouth drew away.
She let out a choked sob.
“You are lucky I need this as much as you do,” he said.
She caught the sound of a belt jangling and a zipper sliding down. She tilted her head and looked back at him. His large cock jutted from the opening of his pants, but he’d left all his clothes in place other than what was necessary for sex.
“Take your shirt off,” she begged.
“No.”
Cori lay there completely bare to him and vulnerable, but he wouldn’t give her that one thing. “Why?”
“I’m still angry with you.”
Before she could make an annoyed response, he thrust into her, and she lost all thought or reason. Over and over, he pushed into her. She felt the tendrils of their mate bond reforging and strengthening with each spark of pleasure. It was a heady sensation. Cori had been married once before, and she’d had a few lovers since the divorce, but she’d never experienced anything like what she had with Bartol. It was as if he penetrated her very soul.
His breathing was heavy as he gripped her hips and plunged into her with ever more forceful thrusts. Thanks to Melena’s blood, Cori was strong enough to handle it now compared to when he’d had to be so careful the first time. She caught his gaze watching her. With every push, she shoved her butt back to meet him, but he still monitored her to be sure he wasn’t hurting her.
“Harder,” she ordered, wanting him to give all he had.
Bartol let go of her hips and took hold of her shoulders, arching her back upward. “Be careful what you ask for.”
The next thing she knew, he was pushing into her womb so deeply she no longer knew who she was or where they were. Stars flashed across her vision. She wished she could touch him, hold him, let him feel how much he was making her wild, but all she could do was moan and cry out.
He grunted. “It was as if you were made for me.”
“Bartol…” she pleaded.
He pulled her up higher, bringing her closer. One of his hands dropped down to grip her left breast and squeezed it tightly while the other moved between her thighs. He rubbed her clitoris, and she screamed. This was the final touch she had needed to set her off. Her body shook as he worked her, bringing her to greater and greater heights. A hundred sensations washed over her as the orgasm made her lose all sense of reason. She felt him, wanting nothing more than for them to stay joined like this forever. How long it lasted, she didn’t know, but eventually she slumped against his hold, her body drained.
Bartol carefully returned her to the table and gripped her hips once more. His thrusts grew jerky and uneven. He must have known she couldn’t take much more, and he was doing what he could to speed up the process. Still, he wasn’t one who could rush things. It took another ten minutes before his warm seed poured deeply inside her. Cori’s body stirred faintly. She wanted to orgasm again but couldn’t find the strength.
A minute later, Bartol relaxed and leaned down to press his lips to the side of her neck. It was the sweetest kiss she’d ever felt from him. One full of caring and gratitude. He was showing how much he appreciated her, and the way she’d surrendered complete control to him. If only he knew how difficult it was to do that, especially with her past. He was the man that could bring out the submissive side of her in ways her ex-lovers never could.
“You’re beautiful like this,” he said.
Cori let out a lazy smile. “I’d stay this way all day if you’d keep touching me.”
“Greedy woman.”
He pulled away and zipped up his pants. “Don’t you have a business to open?”
“I could call Asher and let him do it,” she suggested, turning to sit on the table with her legs open for him to see.
Bartol sucked in a deep breath. He stood staring for a moment, a fresh bulge already rising in his pants before turning away. He moved over to a tall cabinet and drew out a box of tissues, tossing them at her. “Tormod will be here soon for training. I don’t want him seeing you like this—I’d have to kill him.”
Cori couldn’t hold back the sigh of disappointment. She took the tissues and cleaned herself up while Bartol did anything he could to avoid looking at her. He wasn’t immune to her nudity, and she could tell it was all he could do to keep his gaze off of her. One by one, he picked up the articles of clothing she’d left on the floor. It was a good thing he kept this place ridiculously clean for a workshop or else her things would be filthy.
“I’ll need a ride—unless you want me to walk all the way to Mel’s house.”
He swung around, his golden eyes falling on her hazel ones. “How did you get here?”
“She dropped me off.”
He muttered something under his breath in some unrecognizable language. “That explains how you found me.” He tossed her coat over. “Put that on.”
Cori got off the table and drew it over her shoulders. Once it fully covered her, he braved getting closer to her again and pressed her knit cap onto her head and wrapped the scarf around her neck. It was sweet and intimate, despite the annoyance in his gaze.
“You should not have been out in the cold with so little on,” he said.
She licked her lips. “It was worth it.”
“This changes nothing.”
They’d just have to see about that. She knew things wouldn’t be worked out in a day, and she was prepared to lay siege until he forgave her and listened to all she had to say. Eventually, that would include convincing him to help Caius stop a demon. But everything had to be done one step at a time.
Cori drew on her gloves. “I’m cooking dinner tonight at Mel’s place if you would like to come—or any other night, for that matter.”
“Did you not just hear what I said?” he asked, giving her an incredulous look.
“You can’t blame a girl for trying.”
Bartol ran a hand through his brown hair. It was past his ears and almost as long as hers. She envied his hand for being able to touch it when she could not.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
She did as requested and felt a curl of contentment as he wrapped his arms around her. Trusting him, she let her guard down. Melena’s blood had given her a certain degree of immunity to magic. Cori had to concentrate if she wanted Bartol to flash her to another destination or else the nephilim form of transportation wouldn’t work.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She nodded.
Power rushed over her, and in a whirlwind of colors, they zoomed through the distance between his workshop and Melena’s home in a mere second or two. Solid ground returned under her feet. Bartol continued to hold her, ensuring she did not fall. Flashing used to make Cori dizzy, but it appeared the recent changes to her body had strengthened her against that. Of course, she wouldn’t tell Bartol that when it meant she could enjoy him holding her a few seconds longer.
“I’m fine,” she said after it was clear he was starting to shake from their close proximity. He sacrificed more than he would say every time he got close to her, except during sex when hormones helped override his fears.
“Good.” He pulled back from her. “Now go put some damned clothes on.”
He flashed away before she could reply.