Chapter 10
Bartol
It was half-past ten o’clock in the morning. Bartol had spent the last two hours putting a fresh coat of wax on his wood floors, doing it by hand since he found that gave the best results. It didn’t slip by him that none of his visitors ever noticed, but he didn’t do it for them.
After living in a stone cell that constantly leaked freezing water onto his head and body for a hundred years, he wanted his home to look nice for his benefit. He’d already memorized every blemish in his wood floor and allowed each flaw to replace the cracks and fissures of his former prison. It wasn’t taking as much time to drive away the memories of that place when they assaulted him as it did even a couple of weeks ago. His mind had begun to wander to other things lately. He couldn’t say whether or not that was a good thing since certain persons of interest could only lead to trouble for him.
Bartol stood and took a good look at his hands. They were filthy from the wax. Not wanting to upset Cori by being late but also not wanting to go near her while he was covered in filth, he took a quick shower and put on a fresh pair of clothes before flashing over to her cabin. Instead of going to her door as usual, he’d gone to her living room. He’d done it without thinking, which proved he needed to be careful where Cori was concerned. She was beginning to consume his mind.
Since he was already there, though, he inspected the room. It was a comfortable place with soft couches, a large throw rug, and a massive entertainment center against the wall. More than once, he’d heard her playing music loudly. His sensitive hearing could pick it up easily despite the forest of trees and distance between their homes. He didn’t recognize any of the songs from his time on Earth before, but he’d secretly begun to like a few of them—not that he’d ever admit that to Cori. As far as she knew, he hated her music. She also had a couple of shelves on the far wall with books and picture frames on them.
He started to move that way and take a closer look.
“Bartol!” Cori shrieked. “What are you doing here?”
He spun around and caught her coming out of the bathroom with her hair dripping wet and a beige towel wrapped around her. This was the first time he’d ever seen her without makeup, especially the dark eyeliner she always wore. He found he liked this cleaner version of her. She had the most lovely skin and though it was clear she exercised often, judging by the tone of her muscles, she still appeared softer without the armor of her clothing.
“You usually leave at eleven,” he said.
Her hazel eyes flashed. “I’ve still got ten minutes, and if you take me I’ll be early.”
“You can be ready that soon?” Perhaps the world had changed in his absence, but he’d never seen a woman during his time who could get dressed in such a quick manner.
“Well, no.” She clutched her towel to her chest. “I’m running late this morning, but I’d planned to at least be dressed before you got here. Since when are you willing to come into my home unannounced?”
Bartol still didn’t have an answer for that. He hadn’t thought about it much before leaving and had simply envisioned her living room when he’d decided to come over. It had been pure instinct. Perhaps it was because he’d stopped by a couple of times while she was at work to make certain she didn’t have any intruders sent by Griff lurking in her home. In those cases, he’d only gone inside long enough to check for them and left quickly after that, but maybe he’d already grown used to coming into the cabin uninvited.
“My apologies.” He took a step back, embarrassed by his behavior. “I will give you time to prepare yourself and return shortly.”
She sighed. “No, just wait here. There’s no point in you flashing back and forth. I won’t need long.”
“Very well.”
“Take a seat and make yourself comfortable,” she said, then headed for her bedroom.
He watched her go, catching a glimpse of her back where the towel sagged lower. There was the hint of a large tattoo that the cloth didn’t quite cover, but he couldn’t make out what it depicted since not enough showed. Bartol had an unsettling urge to remove the towel so that he could find out. What would Cori do if he did? More than once she’d indicated that she’d welcome intimacy between them, but that didn’t mean she would at this moment. Not only that, but while Bartol found himself becoming more curious about the woman, he knew he could never touch her in a meaningful way. Looking was the most he could do.
Cori returned twenty minutes later dressed in blue jeans, a black tank top, and a pair of boots with silver buckles. She’d also dried her hair so that it hung in soft curls to her shoulders, and she’d put on makeup. This was the woman he was used to seeing, and it made her somewhat easier to resist.
A mischievous twinkle entered her eyes. “So I was thinking after you left last night, and I’m willing to let you take me to work on one condition.”
“What?” he asked, narrowing his gaze.
“Kiss me.”
Bartol took a step back. “No.”
Cori rolled her eyes. “I’m not asking for full tongue action. For this first time, you can even just give me a peck on the cheek.”
“First time?” His chest was already tightening at the thought of any kind of intimacy. She had absolutely no idea what she was asking of him, and he couldn’t bear to explain why it was such a problem. No one except Kerbasi knew the exact nature of Bartol’s torture.
She nodded. “From here on out, you have to give me a kiss each time you want to flash me anywhere. If we’re going to ever work out your issues with being near people, I figure you might as well practice on me. You’ve already handled holding me twice. A little kiss here and there won’t kill you.”
Bartol was still envisioning the idea of putting his lips anywhere near hers. He had a thousand false memories of what happened when he did that with other women—horrible things that ended in blood everywhere and his mutilated body. Couldn’t she have asked for something else? Anything else? At this point, he would agree to crawling on his hands and knees to her place rather than kiss her.
“You can handle this,” she said in a soothing voice, coming closer. She paused for a moment when she saw him stiffen, but then she continued forward. “I’ll even do it for you the first time so you don’t have to move.”
He closed his eyes, unable to watch her advance any closer.
It wasn’t her fault, he told himself. She didn’t know what had been done to him, and her intentions weren’t truly bad. In her mind, she was trying to help him the best way she knew how. And there was a strong attraction between them whether he liked it or not.
“It’s okay,” she soothed.
Soft fingertips ran up his neck, and she pulled his head down toward her. Bartol still didn’t open his eyes, but he made himself imagine her face. It was a struggle, and he shook with the effort. Kerbasi’s conditioning was strong. Flickers of the images he’d implanted flashed behind Bartol’s eyelids, and he winced.
Cori’s breath fanned his cheek. “I would never hurt you.”
He wanted to believe that—he truly did. His throat closed so tightly he couldn’t respond to her or make any sound. Then her moist lips pressed to his cheek. All thoughts of anything except her fled for that brief moment she touched him, and the scent and feel of Cori filled his senses. It was the most peace he’d felt in longer than he could remember.
She pulled away. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He opened his eyes, finding her several feet away now.
Her gaze dipped but not fast enough that he didn’t catch a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “You didn’t fight me. I really thought you would, and I was prepared to let the kiss go if you were insistent.”
She’d fooled him. He’d been rather certain she would have tackled him to the ground if necessary. Cori was the kind of woman who didn’t take no for an answer easily. Not only that, but she had such an easy confidence about her that it was easy to forget she often hid any feelings that might make her appear weak. She’d worried he would reject her. Somehow, that bothered him more than anything else that had just happened.
“It was not…quite as bad as I imagined,” he admitted.
She stared at him for a long moment, judging his truthfulness. He held her gaze. Let her see for herself that he didn’t find her revolting despite his reservations. Of course, if he’d been smarter, he would let her think otherwise. This would only bring Bartol more trouble, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He knew now that he had the power to hurt her.
Her shoulders eased, and she gave him a satisfied smile. “Good. It will be even better next time when you have to kiss me.”
“Wait.” He held his hands up in a plea for mercy. “I didn’t mean to insinuate…”
“Too late.” Cori grabbed her purse from a side table next to the couch. “Let’s get going. I’ve even taken some Dramamine, so I shouldn’t get sick this time.”
Bartol moved toward her slowly. He might have handled her kiss better than expected, but that only made him more cautious about holding her. She was a match to his powder keg. If they ignited, who knew where the pieces of them might land.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
She spun on her heels, back straight as she waited for him. Bartol stood there a moment longer, building up the courage to touch her. How would it be to hold her now?
“I promise not to bite or kiss you again…for now,” she said, glancing over her shoulder and giving him a soft look. “You can do this.”
Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close to his chest. She fit there perfectly. The number of women he’d had over the centuries was more numerous than Bartol could count, and though his memories of them had been twisted, he was certain none of them had affected him the way Cori did right then.
Bartol forced himself to concentrate on her tattoo studio, particularly the waiting area. The image of a darkened room came to his mind. He made out the shapes of couches and chairs, swung his angle around, and caught sight of the counter with the cash register. On the back wall, there were dozens of photos of various tattoos and hand-drawn designs. No one lurked or hid in the store that he could find.
He pulled his energy together and flashed them into the studio, moving with dizzying effect. In that brief moment they traveled with lightning speed, Bartol’s mood altered. The feel of Cori’s body began to be replaced by the females in his nightmares. Women with fangs and claws, tearing into him with no regard for the pain they caused. Agony raced through his body, and it was all he could do to keep a grip on reality. As soon as their feet settled on the tiled floor, he pulled away. To his regret, even Cori couldn’t keep the torturous images away for long.
She walked unsteadily toward the light switch and flipped it. Bartol’s unease faded as brightness filled the room and pushed away his dark thoughts. His gaze met Cori’s. She didn’t appear green this time, but concern for him shown in her eyes. She was about to ask him uncomfortable questions—he was sure of it.
“I will inspect the rest of the place,” he said, escaping her.
Bartol flashed into each of the back rooms—Cori’s work area, a bathroom, and a storage room. He found no lurking vampires inside or anything else suspicious.
He returned to Cori, leaving a good ten feet between them. “All is clear.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a tight smile. “You can go now.”
She’d just dismissed him without meeting his gaze. As much as he was ready to leave, he didn’t understand the change in her mood. “Your former husband may not be here now, but he could visit at any time. Call me if he does.”
Cori lifted her chin, and a spark flashed in her hazel eyes. “If he shows up, I’ll handle him. Don’t worry.”
“He’s a vampire. You cannot handle him by yourself,” he insisted. How could the woman not see he was trying to protect her?
“Melena was fighting them long before she became immortal.”
He should have known Cori would use that argument. “The sensor has also been aware of the supernatural world for a long time, she is immune to compulsion, and she was trained by the military. There are many differences between you and her.”
“Vampires can’t compel me, either. Remember?” She scowled at him and turned her attention back to her laptop, typing something into it.
“Be that as it may, I still ask that you call me if Griff or anyone suspicious comes here.”
She cocked her head. “Will you worry about me?”
“Would I have taken the time and trouble to bring you here if I didn’t?”
“You’re rather confusing, you know that?” She let out a sigh. “I’ll call you or Melena if there’s any trouble.”
Bartol didn’t know what to make of that response, but at least she’d call. That was all that mattered. He flashed back to his home and headed to the kitchen to make sandwiches for lunch. As he laid the ingredients out, he considered what to do about Cori and her safety.
It was clear she didn’t want him or anyone else interfering in her daily activities. She needed her space, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t check in on her periodically without her knowledge. He had the ability to see long distances for a few seconds when he needed to flash, but he could use that asset to check on her as well. It wouldn’t be a full intrusion. He’d even limit himself to only once every hour or two—between the times when Melena or Bambi were due to stop by the shop.
Bartol understood what it was like to be vulnerable and want nothing more than to gain some sort of control over one’s life. They had to give Cori the illusion of that while still keeping her as safe as possible. He only hated that their plan would leave her vulnerable for brief periods, but unless they stationed someone there the whole day, there was nothing to be done about that.
A bright flash of light appeared by the front door. His muscles tensed until he recognized the man standing there—Tormod. Bartol hadn’t expected him for another hour.
“You’re early,” he said.
The nerou shrugged. “I might have pissed a few people off this morning during physical training. Lucas told me it was best for everyone involved if I left the compound early.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing that should have gotten everyone so worked up.”
Bartol took a few steps closer, giving the younger man a disapproving look. “Do you expect me to believe that?”
Tormod’s lips twitched. “There may have been a sudden spider infestation in the women’s dorms, but I don’t know why they think I had anything to do with it. Insects get into the buildings all the time.”
“Your demon blood is going to be the death of you.”
The nerou ran a hand through his shaggy, brown hair. “I know, but I can’t help it. The moment I have an idea, it’s like I have to do it.”
Bartol didn’t think he was lying about that. There had been a few rare cases of children born with demon blood in the past, and they’d all been troublemakers. The archangels only gave them until they reached adulthood before executing them. Tormod wouldn’t be alive now if he didn’t also have sensor and angel blood in him, but if he didn’t get his act together, they might change their minds and end his existence.
“You must learn discipline,” Bartol said.
Tormod’s expression turned bashful. “I know.”
“The next time you get an idea that might upset people, think of a way to do a good thing instead,” he instructed.
“I’ll try.” He nodded. “So what are we doing today?”
“We’ll do a patrol of the area first.” Bartol wanted to see if there were any fresh tracks from the night before. Though he went out several times last night to check for intruders, he’d resisted the urge to stay out until dawn. Cori’s former husband appeared to be spacing his activities, revealing a surprising amount of patience. There was no way to be certain when Griff might strike again, and Bartol could waste too much energy if he didn’t pace himself—even nephilim had their limits.
“Same circuit?” Tormod asked.
“Yes.”
They flashed outside. Bartol took one section of the woods while Tormod handled the other. He studied the foliage and ground, searching for any signs of disturbance. The vampire had been careful in the past but not quite careful enough. If he’d been out there, they would find his tracks. Bartol was certain Griff would have been tempted to come by the house last night after what he’d done to Cori’s truck. He would have wanted to see how the destruction affected her.
“I’ve got something,” Tormod shouted from some distance away.
Bartol flashed over to him. “Where?”
The nerou pointed at a bare patch of ground where a partial set of boot prints marred the dirt.
“Are there any more?”
“No.” Tormod shook his head. “But these definitely weren’t here the last time we looked.”
“Agreed.” Every time they found any tracks, they removed all trace of them so they couldn’t be confused with new ones that might appear later. This confirmed what Bartol had suspected, though. Griff had been out here for at least a little while watching Cori’s home during the night. Bartol only regretted he hadn’t caught him in the act.
“Should we keep looking?” Tormod asked.
He was glad the young man took the task seriously. Lucas had mentioned that as long as the nerou was kept busy and his mind engaged, he was less likely to look for trouble. So far, that had proven true.
“No. There will be nothing else worth finding during the day. Next, we are going to visit Cori’s employee before he goes to work.” Bartol had made that decision last night after dealing with the tow truck driver, and he’d called Melena this morning at her office to track down the address. “We must make certain Asher is not used by the vampire to hurt her.”
Light dawned in Tormod’s eyes. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“With vampires, one can never be too careful.”