Chapter 16
Bartol
He moved throughout the house, restless and unable to leave. After Micah had finished working on Cori last night and moved on to Hayden, Bartol had brought her home and put her to bed. Though the wounds were mostly closed, they still had some healing to do.
With Cori’s reluctant permission, he’d put her to sleep with the promise he’d wake her up in thirty-six hours. It had to be that long for her to make a full recovery with no scarring. Her only condition was that he had to watch over her the whole time—no one else could replace him. He’d been fine with that, but he had not foreseen what it might be like to stay in her home for such a long period.
It was as if the damn woman surrounded him everywhere he looked. The first thing that caught his attention were all the photographs on her living room shelves with her family and friends, most of whom he didn’t recognize. Then he found the artwork she’d done over the years stacked inside a closet in her spare bedroom, which included several portraits of a little girl who looked like a younger version of Cori. Bartol could only guess she was a niece since all the women in the family had black hair. The paintings were heartrending and beautiful. He hadn’t even realized she painted.
Cori also had several cameras and hundreds of photos stacked on her desk. Some of them were of him. She’d taken pictures of Bartol while he worked in his yard and during his walks in the woods. In a few cases, he remembered seeing her around, but he hadn’t noticed the cameras at the time. Cori was far sneakier than he’d imagined, yet he couldn’t believe how well she’d captured his image. For the first time, he didn’t see his burn scars as hideous. Somehow, she’d caught him at just the right angles, so they appeared natural and perhaps even intriguing—not that he would ever admit that to her. It would certainly go to her head, and he’d never hear the end of it.
The house phone rang for the fifth time in the last two hours. He’d been ignoring it, but the same number kept popping up on the screen. What if it was Griff calling to harass her? Bartol wanted nothing more than to give that vampire a piece of his mind, and this might be his first opportunity. He couldn’t disregard the phone any longer.
He picked up the handset, taking a moment to figure out how to answer it. “Yes?”
“Who is this?” an older woman asked. “I’m trying to reach my daughter, Cori.”
He tensed. It hadn’t occurred to him that her mother might call. “She is sick and sleeping at the moment, ma’am. Can I have her call you back later?”
“Who are you? And why are you answering my daughter’s phone?” the woman demanded.
And here he’d thought Cori could be difficult, but apparently it was an inherited trait. “I am Bartol—her neighbor. She asked me to look after her while she is sick.”
“Cori stopped letting me fuss over her after she turned seven years old. She doesn’t let anyone look after her when she’s sick.” The woman let out a snort. “You expect me to believe you?”
“I assure you, ma’am, I had very little choice in the matter,” he said, peeking into Cori’s bedroom to make certain she still slept deeply. It hadn’t been easy to compel her. She had a surprisingly strong resistance to having her mind controlled even when it was voluntary, and someone powerful did it.
“If she convinced you to be there, then she had a reason.” The woman’s voice turned speculative. “Are you dating her?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Is she interested in you?” Cori’s mother asked. “Because I’ve been telling her for years to move on from that horrible ex-husband of hers. She needs a good man and to have children again.”
Bartol stilled. “Again?”
The woman sighed. “She didn’t tell you about her daughter?”
“No.”
“That deadbeat, Griff, crashed his truck and killed my grandbaby when she wasn’t quite five years old yet.” Cori’s mom sniffled. “It tore my daughter apart, and she’s never been the same since. That’s why I want her to find someone who can look after her. Are you a good man?”
“I, uh….” He was too busy absorbing the fact that Cori had a daughter. How could she have not mentioned something as important as that? Were those portraits he found in the closet of her little girl? Dozens of the puzzle pieces that made up Cori began to fall into place, and it confounded him.
“Are you there? I hope we’re not losing our connection,” the woman muttered, tapping at the phone.
Bartol rubbed at his temple. “I’m here.”
“So are you a good man?”
“No, I’m not,” he said, and took a deep breath, “but I would never hurt your daughter.”
“You know, the men who think they’re not good enough are usually the best ones.” Cori’s mother took on a wise tone. “Maybe you are the right person for her.”
He sighed. “I assure you that your daughter deserves better than me, ma’am.”
“Stop saying ma’am. My name is Joy. From now on, that is what you will call me, or I’ll take the next flight to Fairbanks and shoot you. Do you understand?”
Bartol noted a bit of Cori in her voice. He made a mental note to never be in the same room with the two women at the same time—not if he wanted to keep with his sanity and physical form intact.
He cleared his throat to hide his amusement. “I understand, though I should warn you that a bullet would not hurt me much.”
Perhaps if she discovered he was supernatural, she would like him less and not see him as a candidate for her daughter’s affections. Most humans would certainly not be happy about it.
Joy was silent for a moment. “What are you?”
“A nephilim.”
“What is that exactly?”
He stared up at the ceiling, tempted to pray for patience even though he wanted nothing from God. “It means one of my parents was human and the other an angel.”
“Oh, well in that case, I give you permission to date my daughter,” Joy said, sounding elated. “It would be nice to have an angel in the family and far better than a horrible man like Griff.”
“I’m half angel, and the full angels don’t like my kind very much.”
She made a dismissive noise. “Oh, I’m sure they’re a bit stuffy living up there in Heaven where they don’t get out often. That’s what my daughter has told me, anyway.”
A knock sounded at the door. Bartol peeked out the front window and found Melena’s Jeep in the drive. She’d said she would be stopping by in the late afternoon. He’d lost track of time and not realized that much of the day had passed already. Cori’s mother was still rambling about angels and the things her daughter had told her about them when Bartol pulled the front door open.
Melena smiled at him. “Hey!”
“Here,” he said, shoving the handset at her. “Talk to her.”
The sensor frowned, giving the phone a dubious look. “Who is it?”
“Joy—Cori’s mother.”
“Oh.” A look of pleasure crossed her face, and she took the phone. “Hey, Joy. How are you?”
Bartol spun on his heels and went to sit on the couch. Melena followed him, taking a seat in the chair across from him. He bowed his head and did his best to block out their conversation, but it wasn’t easy since Melena spoke far more loudly than necessary. Surely the people in Russia could hear her.
“Why, yes, I do believe Bartol would be great for Cori.” She paused for a minute while the other woman talked and then a devilish glint came over the sensor’s eyes. “And yes, he has been taking such good care of your daughter while she’s…sick. Truly, he’s a kind and gentle soul.”
Bartol couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed a pillow from the couch, throwing it at Melena. She ducked in time to avoid it and smothered a laugh. The cursed woman was having far too much fun at his expense. He was half tempted to call her husband and tell him to come collect her.
As Melena continued to regale Joy with tales of what a great man Bartol was, including how he kept his home clean and how protective he’d become of Cori, he left to check on the sleeping woman. She lay in her bed covered with a thick quilt that appeared handmade—possibly by her mother if he had to guess. Cori’s black hair billowed out around her on the pillow, allowing him a full view of her prominent cheekbones, pert nose, and long eyelashes. She had such smooth skin that he was tempted to caress her cheek, but he resisted the urge. Instead, he pulled the quilt aside to check her wounds. Her camisole had ridden up her stomach, giving him a good view of the reddened wound that ran the length of her right side. He examined her left shoulder as well. The stab injury had closed up nicely, but when he grazed his fingers over it, he sensed that inside it still had some knitting to do. Hopefully by tomorrow morning when he woke her up it would be as good as new like he and Micah had promised.
Bartol took a final scan of her body in case there were any other injuries he and Micah might have missed, but then something hit him. Cori did tattoos for a living, yet he couldn’t find a single one on her front side. There was just clear, smooth skin. The only one he knew about was on her back, but she always kept that one covered up. He’d only seen it when he caught her coming out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her. It was rather unusual for one in her profession to have so few tattoos. He was sorely tempted to turn her over and look at it, but he wouldn’t invade her privacy that way while she lay unconscious.
Melena entered the room and came to stand beside him. She no longer held the phone in her hand. “Joy told me she hopes to talk to you again soon. She says you seem like a nice young man, and she wishes the best for you and Cori.”
Bartol grunted but refused to reply.
“How is she?” Melena asked, her tone softening.
“Still healing, but much better than before.” He pulled the quilt back over Cori. She’d given him permission to check on her, but no one else. He doubted she’d be offended about Melena, but he still preferred to preserve the woman’s dignity while she lay there vulnerable.
“I wish I could sleep my wounds off like that,” the sensor said.
He glanced at her. “We all have prices to pay for what we are.”
“No kidding.” Melena hugged herself. “But I hate to see one of my friends down like this. Most everyone we know is either immortal or at least has some sort of supernatural defenses. She doesn’t have anything.”
Similar thoughts had crossed his mind in recent days. “That is why we must protect her.”
“Except she hates it, and I totally understand her reasons. Most independent women don’t want to become damsels in distress and would rather protect themselves.” Melena shook her head. “A gun isn’t going to be enough for her this time, though.”
Yesterday’s events had proven that. He was proud that Cori won her fight in the end, but it came at a great cost. All he had to do was look down at her sleeping form to see that. “This vampire is too unpredictable to leave her alone for even a few minutes anymore.”
Melena nodded. “Giving her a little space clearly didn’t work.”
“We’ll work out a schedule for one of us to be with her at all times, and I’ll enlist Tormod’s assistance as well. Bodyguard duty would be a good lesson for him.”
“Especially if it gets him out of that compound for longer periods,” she said.
Bartol studied the sensor. “I know you have your own duties to attend to with your government job, but it would help if you could find more time to help me search for Griff. We have to find him.”
“I know.” Melena rubbed her face. “I can’t begin to tell you how many fires I’m putting out on a daily basis since DHS is still getting the hang of dealing with supernaturals. Still…there is a lot I could hand off to Patrick. I’m just a control freak is all.”
Bartol would ask to use Patrick instead, but for reasons no one understood, a male sensor’s range was half as much as a female’s. Emily’s father was also mortal, which made him too vulnerable against a vampire like Griff. Melena was the best choice to assist on this hunt.
“If we work together, perhaps we can end this quickly,” Bartol said, a plan forming in his head. “You can drive and tell me when you sense any young vampires. I’ll flash over to check them out.” He surmised they could cover a lot of ground that way.
“Sounds like a plan.” She gestured for them to leave the room. “Just give me a day or two to hand things off to Patrick first.”
Bartol walked with her outside. “That’s fine. I cannot leave Cori until she is fully healed anyway.”
“You’re waking her up tomorrow morning, right?” Melena asked, stopping on the porch.
“Yes, but I will watch over her for at least another day to be sure she’s fine.”
The sensor grinned. “You do realize that after she wakes up she’ll start flirting with you again. We both know you’ll start wanting to flee after about ten minutes of it.”
“I can resist her if it means keeping her safe.”
The sensor arched a brow. “But why do you bother? It’s just sex.”
“Don’t start,” he growled.
“That’s why you’re cranky all the time.” She shook her index finger at him. “You’ve got Cori right there, willing to help you out, and she’s not even asking for a serious relationship or commitment. Take her up on her offer. I promise it won’t kill you.”
“Don’t you have your own family to worry about?” he asked.
Her expression turned serious. “Bartol, I consider you part of my family as well, or I wouldn’t bother you about this.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. The last time he’d had any sort of family was when he was very young, but even those memories had mostly faded. He didn’t dare dream of having such a thing again. “You don’t know me that well.”
“I know you enough,” she said, giving him an earnest look. “We spent enough time in Purgatory together that I believe you deserve love and family just as much as anyone else. Take care, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He watched Melena saunter away. More and more, he understood how the woman got under Lucas’ skin despite her being a “hated” sensor. She had a heart of gold, much like the woman resting inside the house. He turned on his heels and went in to check on Cori again. Like a moth to a flame, Bartol couldn’t resist while she wasn’t awake to see how much she fascinated him.