Destined for Eternity

by Susan Illene

  “And just when I was starting to like Alaska,” Kerbasi grumbled from near the steps.

  Bartol refused to turn and look at him. The guardian craved attention like a love-sick dog.

  “He’s already demanding to take over one of the offices,” Melena added.

  “Did he say anything else?” Bartol asked.

  The couple gestured at him to come inside and led him into the living room off to the left of the foyer. Kerbasi joined them as well, uncaring of the lack of his invitation. No one protested but only because the guardian’s knowledge of the archangel and ways of Heaven might prove useful.

  It was a large, formal room compared to their more comfortable den at the back of the house where Bartol had spent a lot of time when he’d briefly lived with them after leaving Purgatory. The living room had cream couches and loveseats, mahogany side tables, and patterned red curtains. A Persian rug with maroon and gold colors was set in the middle of the wood floor. They’d redecorated this room last year because of an attack on the house, so everything was relatively new.

  “He said nothing more of importance,” Lucas said, settling into a cream chair in the corner. “Jeriel is allowing us a couple of weeks to prepare for his full take-over, but he’ll be overseeing the nerou’s final training and relocations in the meantime.”

  The mysterious archangel was dipping his hands into everything.

  “He wants me to hunt and execute demons,” Bartol informed them.

  Lucas gave him a pointed look. “You have proven good at it.”

  “Killing, yes. Hunting is another matter.” Bartol sat at the edge of the largest couch in the room—well away from Kerbasi who stood by the front window. “My father can pull them out of thin air if they’re nearby, but he didn’t have time to teach me that skill.”

  Bartol’s time with his sire had been short, but he was glad to have at least met him. Raguel hadn’t been anything like he’d expected. His father had been kind and helpful, as if making up for their forced separation, but he’d had to return to a sleep stasis shortly after the battle was over in London. The fact he hadn’t been sent to Hell as soon as it was discovered he’d impregnated a human all those centuries ago was a small miracle. It was only because of his special abilities that he instead remained on the sidelines in case he was needed, albeit in a magical coma with all his powers drained.

  Melena’s expression brightened. “Negotiate to have Raguel released again to train you. If it happens to coincide with your child’s birth, all the better. He could meet his grandchild.”

  “I’m not certain that would work.” Bartol shook his head. “The deal Jeriel is offering is that my child be allowed fifty years to mature and then work as an enforcer for one century after that before being free. I don’t like any part of my son or daughter’s life being planned without their consent, but I doubt he’ll negotiate.”

  Lucas’ jaw hardened. “Whatever precedent you start will probably affect the rest of us when we decide to have children. This is not good.”

  “He says I have twenty-four hours to agree, or he’ll take the baby after it is weaned and place it in Purgatory until he or she matures enough to become an enforcer.”

  “What the Hell kind of ultimatum is that?” Melena asked, outraged. “They can’t do that!”

  “We can’t fight an army of them.” Lucas’ face hardened. “This is definitely a move to show us how all new nerou will be treated in the future. We have to keep working for the archangels just to give our children a chance at any kind of future for themselves.”

  Kerbasi crossed his arms. “I am not surprised. When they first began bringing nerou to Purgatory, I disagreed with it. That is no place for young ones.”

  “Coming from the man who enjoys torturing people,” Bartol scoffed.

  “Those who are guilty of crimes, of course.” The guardian lifted his chin. “But children are another matter, and I refused to be any part of it.”

  “Why didn’t they do the same thing to nephilim babies?” Melena asked.

  He shrugged. “They’re not mortal or easy to control. It was too late to set a precedent after it was realized how problematic those with part angel blood could be. With the nerou, the mindset had changed, and the archangels formed a new plan for them. They thought raising them away from Earth in a controlled environment would make a difference when they became useful in the future. We all knew the time would come when humans became aware of the supernatural, and measures had to be taken to prepare for that.”

  “So there’s no give on this?”

  Kerbasi grimaced. “I highly doubt it.”

  Melena paced the living room. “And after all the work we did freeing them from that awful place. Now the angels pull this crap, threatening to put more innocent children in Purgatory.”

  “That is why I’m here.” At this point, Bartol would do anything if it would help his child. Even visit Lucas and Melena’s house and deal with Kerbasi.

  Lucas rubbed his chin. “This will require some thought.”

  “We have one day. Actually, twenty-two hours.”

  Melena directed her attention toward Kerbasi. “Go grab Ariel. Tell her it’s an emergency and that we need her in here right away.”

  The guardian bowed. “Your wish is ever my command.”

  “If only.” Melena snorted.

  He hurried away. A moment later they heard a loud scream from the camper. “Kerbasi, I’m in the shower. Get out!”

  Ariel had quite the shrill voice when she was upset.

  Bartol shook his head. “That fool has no sense.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be along shortly.” Melena gestured at him. “Come to the kitchen. We were just about to have dinner, so you can join us.”

  His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t had time to eat before heading over. “Who is cooking?”

  Melena narrowed her eyes at him. “If I said it was me, what would you do?”

  “Go to McDonald’s after we’re finished here.” Bartol wouldn’t even mind standing in line with strangers if it meant avoiding Melena’s terrible concoctions.

  She pointed a finger at him. “You know, I do cook some things well.”

  “I ate her pancakes yesterday and managed to hold them down,” Lucas offered. His wary gaze said it was a close thing, though.

  “That’s okay. I’m not that hungry.”

  Melena let out a loud sigh. “Micah cooked. You’ll be fine.”

  Lucas’ twin brother could prepare meals nearly as well as Cori. “Then I will eat.”

  “Of course, you will. Jackass!” She stomped ahead of them.

  “How is your mate?” Lucas asked as they passed the dining room and entered the kitchen eating area.

  Bartol settled on one of the barstools. “She is well, though moody at times.”

  “That’s normal,” Micah said, standing at the stove. “Carrying a baby affects a woman’s hormones.”

  If any nephilim would know about such things, it would be Micah. He had a nerou daughter himself, and he was a healer who kept up with modern medicine. Every one of their kind got special abilities concentrated in a particular area. Micah could heal better than just about anyone, while Lucas was an impressive fighter. Together, the twins could take on the world if they wanted.

  Bartol accepted a plate of shrimp Creole. It looked excellent—as good as anything he could have found in New Orleans. Not that he’d visited the city in over a century, but he still recalled the food with fond memories.

  They were nearly finished with their meal when Ariel and Kerbasi came into the house and joined them, the two bickering back and forth.

  “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before,” the guardian argued.

  The former archangel snorted. “Your prisoners hardly count. Just because you forced them to sit in their freezing cells naked doesn’t mean you are an expert in physical anatomy or have the right to see my body.”

  “Believe me, I took no pleasure in it.” He sneered. “Yo
u need to eat more. I could see your ribs, and your skin is paler than a ghost.”

  Ariel’s eyes began to glow a golden-red color, reflecting her archangel heritage and time in Hell. “Melena, would you shoot him, please?”

  The sensor shook her head. “I promised myself I’d cut back to just once a week, and I already shot him yesterday for interrupting Lucas and I while we were…”

  “…having carnal relations in the dining room,” Kerbasi finished, sneering. “It was disgusting, and they were in the strangest position. I don’t know how I will eat in there ever again.”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage,” Melena replied.

  Lucas glared at him. “The only reason I allow you in the house right now is because your insight might be valuable in this situation. Once this is resolved, you will not enter again for a week.”

  “I don’t know why you allow him inside at all,” Bartol said. He wasn’t happy when Kerbasi had come to his cabin before, and he never let the infernal man inside.

  Melena sighed. “We can’t humanize him if we keep him away from people all the time. Social interactions are what helps him learn better behavior.”

  The guardian whisked an invisible piece of lint off of his pressed, button-up shirt. “I behave just fine. It is everyone else who has a problem.”

  Bartol resolved to ignore him. “What are we going to do about Jeriel?”

  Micah put a dinner plate in front of Ariel. She looked at it suspiciously, still not used to having to eat like the rest of them. As immortals, they wouldn’t die from starvation, but it would weaken them considerably and hunger did make them uncomfortable.

  She picked up her fork and played with a piece of shrimp. “Jeriel is formidable. He doesn’t seem like much from the outside, but he is a proven warrior. Whenever Heaven has a problem that needs to be taken care of swiftly and quietly, he is the one to do it.”

  “He’s threatening to take my child if I do not cooperate.”

  She pursed her lips. “What is it he wants from you?”

  “To hunt and kill demons.”

  “Would that be so bad?” She arched her brows. “From what I understand, you do it quite well.”

  Bartol grunted. “Kill them, yes. Hunt them, no.”

  “Have Jeriel bring your father down again. It’s a solid argument that you can’t do something without training from an expert and then at least you’ll have him around for a while.” She chewed on the piece of shrimp, delighted surprise lighting her face. “And this way I’ll get to see him again—it’s been quite a long time.”

  “My offspring would still be required to work as an enforcer for a century after reaching maturity.” Fifty might sound old to humans, but it was like a teenager in immortal years. “I don’t want my child’s future decided when they’ve yet to draw breath.”

  “A century is hardly that terrible,” Ariel argued.

  Apparently, Hell had not changed her ways of thinking entirely.

  Bartol crossed his arms. “Nephilim aren’t put to work like this.”

  “That’s because we found you to be uncontrollable without incentive or blackmail, both of which were not always available depending on your lifestyles. And even then, you’re all too independent and rebellious to be of use for more than short periods.” She finished another bite, closing her eyes as she relished the taste. “We’ve found the nerou to be much better at obeying commands and pleasing us.”

  There were only about fifty nephilim left in the world. There used to be hundreds many centuries ago, but they’d been picked off one by one over time, and many more during the Supernatural War. Heaven reviled them and mostly wanted them killed off because of their independent nature. Bartol suspected the only ones left among them carried a sensor gene, which was partly why the nerou had such strong abilities. They were getting advantages from both parents.

  “If it was your child, would you want them indentured to Heaven for a hundred years?” Bartol asked.

  Ariel winced. “I doubt I should ever be so lucky.”

  Obviously, she could have a baby if she chose or else nephilim wouldn’t exist, but that didn’t mean it would be allowed. Her existence on Earth was tenuous since she should have still been in Hell. Melena broke her out nearly a year ago and convinced the archangels to let her be, but having a child now that she had a modicum of demon essence in her would be pushing the limits. They’d probably execute her if she had a baby.

  “If I could keep my child, a hundred years of servitude would be a small price to pay.” She leveled her gaze at him. “No nephilim has ever been given the deal you’ve gotten. Take it and be glad of it.”

  He looked away. She had a point, even if he didn’t like it. He would be the first one allowed to keep his child and raise them. How many of his kind would have killed for that opportunity? God knew many tried and died for the effort. Some of the nerou were orphans because their parents had attempted to fight the angels off in order to keep their children close, and lost.

  “So you are saying to take the deal?” Bartol asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “But it’s not fair,” Melena argued. “And this sets a precedent for everyone else who has children in the future.”

  Ariel made a tsking sound. “When was the world ever a fair place? Do you really think Heaven is going to offer a better deal than this? The rest of the nerou will be enforcers until they’re old and near death. Bartol’s child will only have a century. I’d say you want him to accept this so your future children don’t have a life of servitude.”

  “She’s right.” Lucas ran a hand through his hair. “As much as I hate to admit it.”

  “Perhaps we could find a way to trap Jeriel and keep him from ever taking Bartol’s child,” Kerbasi suggested.

  “Do you plan to lead the way on that?” Melena asked.

  “If it would redeem me in his eyes…” He trailed off when Bartol just shot him a dirty look. “Anyway, I like children. If this would help me gain the title of Patron Saint of Children, it would be worth the effort.”

  Ariel sighed. “That job is already taken.”

  “Well, that person is not doing a very good job of it if the nerou are any example…obviously.”

  “Jeriel would kill you, guardian. You’re not strong enough to take on an archangel, and you know it.” Lucas gave him a pitying look. “Even I can take you.”

  Kerbasi set his jaw in a stubborn line. “I would have suggested we work together.”

  Bartol already knew what he had to do, even if he didn’t like it and hated to break the news to Cori. He couldn’t risk his friends getting killed for his child. Ariel had a point that he was getting a far better deal than any nephilim before him.

  “I’m going to accept,” he announced, dropping his napkin over his plate.

  Melena’s shoulders slumped. “Cori is going to kill you.”

  “I’ll explain it to her.”

  “Good luck making a pregnant woman understand why her child is going to become an indentured servant for a hundred years,” Micah said, shaking his head. “I don’t envy you that conversation.”

  Bartol took his empty plate to the sink and rinsed it off. “If you don’t hear from me for a few days, assume I’m dead.”

  “We’ll hold a funeral service for you—a nice one,” Melena said, giving him a sympathetic look.

  Kerbasi perked up. “And I’ll sing something lovely.”

  “Don’t,” Micah said, abject horror crossing his face. “Your singing voice is bad enough to raise the dead and make them zombies.”

  “I resent that!”

  Bartol left them to it and headed out of the house. Melena had protections around her home to prevent magic use, so he had to go outside before he could flash away. He’d never dreaded seeing Cori more than he did now.

  Chapter 7

  Cori

  Cori sat on the floor in the nursery, holding up a light green onesie. She’d forgotten how small babies were when they were born and
marveled that anyone could ever fit into such tiny clothes. Considering her daughter had been over eight pounds at birth, and this child would likely be larger, she’d skipped newborn clothes and gone for the bigger sizes. There was still plenty more to buy, but she’d gotten a good start. Her nesting instincts were kicking in, and she felt the strong urge to have everything ready sooner than later.

  Putting away baby clothes reminded Cori of her first pregnancy with Faith. She’d had everything ready to go two months before her daughter was born. It had been amazing to bring her home and put her in the crib for the first time. Faith had been a sweet, cuddly baby who rarely cried except when hungry. Everyone had told Cori how lucky she was for that.

  A tear rolled down her cheek. She still missed her little girl and didn’t think she’d ever get over that loss. It had been more than five years, but the grief hadn’t lessened much. The only difference between now and when her daughter had died in the accident was that Cori had gotten better at blocking out those memories. It worked most of the time, but this pregnancy had brought a myriad of emotions out no matter how hard she tried to stop them. Sometimes, she wondered if she could even love a second child as much as the one she’d lost, and then sometimes wondered if it was fair to do so.

  Was she replacing Faith? Would she somehow forget about her? It was so silly to think that way, but she couldn’t help it. Her daughter had been her whole world for those short five years of her life. Cori had wanted to die when she lost her little girl and had spent months drinking and crying her way through her grief. Only when her mother and sister came to town to knock some sense into her did she finally find the will to live again.

  But now a new little person would be coming that she’d be responsible for protecting and nourishing. This baby was innocent too and would need her. She couldn’t give this child less than what he or she deserved.

  Cori swiped at her damp cheeks. There was no right answer to her questions, and she knew that, deep down. The best thing to do was preserve Faith’s memory while giving her coming baby plenty of love and attention.