by Susan Illene
Not bothering to knock, she rushed into Bartol’s home. She gasped when she found him and his father in the living room. Their clothes were shredded, and they had blood all over them. What had they gotten themselves into for them to be injured this badly?
Cori glanced between them. “What happened?”
There were claw marks across Bartol’s face, slashes along his chest and arms, and his shoulder didn’t look right.
He ripped away his torn shirt. “We found the demons we were sent to locate.”
“I guessed that much, but…” She winced at the raw wounds on his chest, some of them quite deep. “Shouldn’t you have healed by now?”
Bartol glanced down at himself. “It takes longer with the powerful ones, but I’ll heal soon enough. The battle only ended twenty minutes ago.”
“But they look painful,” she said. If she’d been injured like that, no way would she still be on her feet acting like they were mere scratches.
“I’ve had much worse.”
Well, he had a point there, but she’d never seen them this bad on him. “Is there something I can do?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She crossed her arms. “Right, I can see that.”
Raguel cleared his throat. “I will go take a shower and let you two talk.”
Bartol glanced over at his father, and they exchanged a wordless look. Cori had no idea what it meant exactly, but the archangel’s expression was stern. As for her mate, he appeared defiant of whatever his father wanted from him.
“Thanks, Raguel,” she said.
He gave her a respectful nod and headed for Bartol’s bedroom where he stored a small wardrobe of clothing they’d gotten for him after his arrival. For the most part, it was his room now. His son slept on the couch when he stayed there.
Cori took a few steps closer to Bartol. “Want me to pop your shoulder back into place?”
He shook his head. “I can do it.”
“Then why haven’t you?”
“To be honest, I lost feeling in it and forgot.” He ran his good hand through his blood-soaked hair. “It only hurt at first.”
“Yeah, but it can’t be easy to use your arm like that,” she pressed. God, how she wished he’d let her help once in a while. He was like a wounded animal that wouldn’t let anyone near him. She wanted to be the person who he could trust no matter what and let her be there for him.
“As I said, I’ve had far worse and accomplished more despite it.”
Damn Kerbasi and what he’d put his prisoners through in Purgatory. Cori could only imagine how her mate’s severe injuries could seem so minor unless he’d been in far more pain before. From what she’d learned, Bartol had been flayed, whipped, burned, and a number of other terrible tortures. She supposed a few gashes and a dislocated shoulder would seem of little consequence compared to all that.
“Then please fix it.” Cori rubbed her own arm. “It’s freaking me out.”
“Your wish is my command.”
He reached over with his uninjured hand and snapped his shoulder back into place. She wasn’t sure a human could have done that as easily, but he acted as if he’d done it a few times before. He barely winced.
“I could help you wash up at the kitchen sink until your father is done in the bathroom if you’d like,” she suggested, coming a little closer.
“No.” He took a step back, expression guarded. “I need to clean up on my own and get some rest. It’s been exhausting the last few days, but we can speak further tomorrow.”
Cori put her hands on her hips. “I haven’t seen you in days!”
“I’d hoped you’d wait to visit me until tomorrow.”
Cori took a deep breath. “Bartol, please. We need to work on…”
“What?”
“Being a couple…for the baby.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “You should have realized by now things will never be perfect between us. I intend to provide for our child and watch him or her grow up, but it will never be ideal—not like in your movies. You need to get over that.”
Why was he being hurtful? He stood in front of her like a raging, wounded warrior that barely recognized her. Sure, Bartol was bloody and injured, but she’d thought he’d want her support after fighting a dangerous battle.
“Nothing is ever really like the movies,” she argued, clenching her fists. “But I thought you were really going to try making things work between us. You had me convinced at Christmas. Now, it’s like you’re withdrawing more from me every day.”
“This is not the time, Cori. Please go and let me rest.”
“But there is so much I want to discuss with you before the baby is born.”
Bartol looked up at the ceiling as if pleading with a higher power for help. “Such as?”
“How will we live?”
He shrugged, wincing a little. “The way we are now should suffice.”
“The baby is going to wake up and cry during the night. Will you help me with that, or am I all on my own?” Cori had a whole list of things she’d thought about in recent months, but she could never get Bartol into a serious conversation about it. This might not be the best time, but when would it ever be? “Even Griff helped with our daughter when she was little.”
He let out a growl of frustration. “Do not ever compare me to that man.”
She’d known mentioning her ex-husband might get to him. “I wasn’t, but you act like you’re incapable of helping me.”
“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, frustration in his gaze. “I fear I will fail miserably.”
Cori moved closer until she stood inches away from him. She badly wanted to put a comforting hand on him, but he already appeared ready to bolt. “No one does in the beginning, but you have to try.”
“I’m still not certain if I’ll even be able to hold the baby.”
Cori put a hand over her stomach. “Then you should practice by touching me.”
He tentatively reached out a hand, then spotted the blood covering it, and withdrew. A look of disgust filled his face. “I am filthy and not fit to touch you.”
His words had layers of meaning in them.
“I’ll wait.”
“No.” He backed away and headed toward his small kitchen. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Cori followed and watched as he stood at his sink, rinsing his hands. She noted raw, jagged wounds on his back. He was so strong physically, but inside it seemed there was damage that might never heal. At least, not if she didn’t help him. “Not a chance. I’m going to stay right here, and we’re going to work this out.”
He turned and gave her an exasperated look. “Why can you never take a hint? This is not the time or place, and I’m really not in the mood.”
“Dammit, Bartol. It’s always later with you.”
“The past few days have been long, and I’ve battled dozens of demons—the last of which was the worst of them.” He turned back to the sink and started scrubbing his face. “Give me time.”
Cori took a deep breath. “Fine, we won’t talk about the baby, but at least let me help you clean up. Let me do something!”
“I don’t need your help,” he said coldly, not bothering to look at her. “Now go.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Her stupid pregnancy hormones were getting to her, so even though she recognized he wasn’t at his best right now, she didn’t want to wait longer. “Do I mean anything to you? I thought you said you loved me, but I swear all you do is push me away. As mates, we are supposed to be there for each other.”
Bartol turned toward her, face wet from washing it. “Then be there for me by going away.”
She clenched her fists, wishing he would hug her or hold her or do something a normal man would do for the woman he loved if she was upset. “Fine. If you want to play it that way, then forget it. We don’t need to talk—ever!”
His expression softened a little. “Cori…”
“No.” She shook her head
and backed away. “I’ve tried and tried, but I get it now. You see me as the woman who pushed myself onto you when you wanted nothing to do with me. I never meant it to be like that, and I thought you wanted me as well, but I realize now it was all a mistake. You don’t actually want to be a father, and I’m not going to force you into it anymore.”
“We’re not a mistake,” Bartol began, pausing to search for the right words. “It’s just…”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. You need your space, as you said, and I need to stop exhausting myself trying to make this relationship work. Clearly it never will.” She turned, wanting to exit as fast as possible. “Goodbye, Bartol.”
He muttered something behind her, but she didn’t catch what he said before she slammed the door. Cori hurried down the road as fast as she could despite her ungainliness. The whole way home, she cursed Bartol under her breath. He just didn’t get it. The man thought they could sustain this awkward life where they were sort of together but not really. She’d been patient and given him time, but he didn’t even seem to be trying to work things out. Of course, he still had a lot to work through after all he’d been through in Purgatory. For the type of psychological damage he’d been through, a little over a year wasn’t enough. The problem was he wouldn’t let her help him—or anyone else. Maybe she could let it go longer if not for the baby, but she had to put their child first. No longer would she waste her precious energy on him since he clearly didn’t want it.
Cori made it up the drive and spotted her house up ahead. Panting and out of breath with tears rolling down her cheeks, she slowed down. It was getting dark and she needed to be careful. She took her final steps with care, remembering she had a baby to consider. Once she made it inside, she shut and locked the door, then paced the living room.
Frustration filled her. Cori loved Bartol, but she’d made a mistake by getting close to him only a few months after his arrival in Alaska. He hadn’t been ready, and she’d pushed him when all he wanted was to be left alone. It was just that she’d been drawn to him by a force she couldn’t fight or understand. The fact that they’d become mates said they were meant for each other, or it wouldn’t have happened, but that didn’t mean it was the right time for them to become bonded. They’d rushed into it, and now they were a mess.
She needed to give Bartol the space he wanted. All of her attempts to make things work hadn’t been effective, and she’d only made things worse. If he wanted time to get himself together, she had to give him that—even if it meant being the only parent there for their child.
Her throat tightened at the thought. After divorcing Griff, she’d had to take care of their daughter alone and that had been tough. It had been worth it to have such an amazing little girl, but there were certainly stressful moments as Cori tried to juggle work and parenting. Now she’d have to do it again, but this time from the start. Bartol might eventually come around, but it could take years at the rate he was going. She wasn’t about to hold her breath anymore. Let the man stew in his repressed emotions and inability to interact with others. Cori wasn’t going to bother him anymore.
With that thought in mind, she got herself ready for bed. Somehow, she would find a way to sleep. She knew from experience there would be little time to rest once the little one was born, so she needed to get as much as she could now.
Chapter 17
Bartol
He slept fitfully through the night as he lay on the couch. Bartol needed rest to heal, but the fight with Cori disturbed him more and more as he cooled off from the battle with the demons. She’d caught him at the worst possible time. He’d just extracted essence from a powerful demon, which always took a toll on his mood and made him testier. His father had come out of the shower after Cori left, angry with his son, and told him he should be ashamed of himself.
Raguel was right.
Every time Bartol remembered her tears, it gutted him. How could he have said such harsh things to the woman he loved, pregnant no less? It had been like he was another person. Then again, he’d been keeping his distance from her for some time, and it amazed him she’d put up with him for this long. Doubts constantly plagued him about whether or not he’d be a good father, especially as each month passed and the due date neared. Every time he saw her growing belly, his fears heightened further. He didn’t want her to know how much he worried about their future, and he was terrified of hurting her or the baby physically.
But now he’d hurt her emotionally, and perhaps that was worst of all.
Dawn came, sunlight filtering through the living room window, and he gave up on getting any more rest. He sat up on the couch and rubbed his face, wondering what to do to make things better. Cori would still be asleep, and he couldn’t resist the urge to check on her. He flashed to her bedroom, finding her slumbering on her side on the bed. Her expression was peaceful. None of the hurt or anger showed from before.
Bartol itched to touch her, but he knew as soon as he got close that the feeling would change. He'd be back in his nightmares, unable to control his revulsion. She deserved someone much better than him. Why she had fought for him this long, he’d never understand. She was remarkable, and before he could make their relationship work, he needed to take a very big step to prove he was good enough for her—and their child. With that in mind, he flashed to the nerou compound.
Nothing stirred there. The sun rose shortly after five in the morning at this time of year, but the nerou didn’t usually wake until six. Most of the trainers didn’t live there, but the one who Bartol sought did. He headed toward a beige trailer behind the dormitories. A soft glow lit the window by the door, and he hoped that meant the occupant was already awake. He knocked and then took two steps back. It was only a moment later before the nephilim who lived inside answered it. He filled in the doorway, wearing a white t-shirt and black exercise pants.
“Bartol,” Eli said, surprised. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“I need your help.”
“For you to come at this time of the morning, it must be bad.” The dark-skinned nephilim stepped back. “Please, come inside.”
Bartol entered, already feeling awkward for showing up unannounced, but he was desperate enough not to care too much if he inconvenienced the psychologist. He passed through the kitchen and took a seat on a plain, brown couch. The trailer was small but comfortable. Eli kept it clean and organized, leaving his personal touches everywhere. Photos of him with friends hung on the wall, a cactus grew on the kitchen counter, and he had a gaming system attached to his television.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the nephilim asked.
Bartol shook his head. “No.”
“Very well.” Eli took a seat across from him in the recliner. “Tell me what happened.”
“Why do you assume something happened?”
The psychologist gave him a level look. “You wouldn’t be here just past dawn if the situation wasn’t dire. Never mind that we both know you’d rather be anywhere than with me.”
Nothing got past this man, that was for certain.
“Cori and I argued,” Bartol admitted. He took a deep breath, telling himself he had to tell Eli more if he was to work out the problem. “She said she doesn’t want to see me again.”
“Why?”
“She came over right after I returned from battling powerful demons. It takes a toll on me physically and emotionally.” Bartol rubbed his face, his own cruel words repeating in his mind again and again. “She wanted to help tend my wounds and talk about the baby, but I pushed her away.”
“Can you blame her for being upset?” Eli asked.
“No, not at all.”
The nephilim clasped his hands together. “When did this happen?”
“Last night.” Bartol shook his head. “I’ve hardly slept since then because I don’t know how to make this right. She’s too good for me, but I want her anyway.”
“Tell me how you feel about her.”
Bartol had never opened up to
anyone like this before, but he forced himself to let go of his reticence. Cori needed him to become a better man, and he had to do whatever it took to make that happen. “I love her more than I thought possible. She’s beautiful inside and out, but I appreciate that she’s not perfect, either. The woman has her faults, and she’s made some mistakes in life that could cripple others, but somehow she hasn’t let her past control her life the way I have. It amazes me how much she can accomplish no matter the obstacles before her.”
He stopped himself, amazed he’d said that much. It was a relief getting it out and allowing himself to think about his mate without fear clouding his thoughts. He hated to admit it, but perhaps talking about his situation wasn’t as bad as he expected.
Eli nodded. “So you can admire her from afar, but what happens when you get close?”
“My hands begin to shake. I feel my throat closing in, and all I want to do is run. Now that she’s pregnant, I fear I might hurt her and the baby, and it’s led to me keeping my distance.” Bartol worked his jaw. “She hates it, but I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s understandable. You’re immortal and strong, which means you have to be more careful right now.” The psychologist kept his tone even and kind. “But she needs you physically and emotionally, and you’re hardly giving her either of those things.”
“I protect her.”
Eli gave him a grim look. “Her friends could do that, but her mate should do far more.”
“How do I fix this?” Bartol asked, frustration in his voice. “Do I go to her now and beg forgiveness or wait?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet. You’re not ready, or it wouldn’t have come to this. I doubt she’ll be in a receptive mood for you visiting anyway without first showing a few goodwill gestures.” The nephilim leaned forward in his seat. “I believe the best plan is to take this slowly.”
“I don’t have much time before the baby comes,” Bartol argued.