by Susan Illene
The nephilim handed over a card with his phone number on it and instructed the group—with added compulsion—to call if they saw or heard from Griff. The vampires didn’t appear to need the added incentive, but it didn’t hurt to make certain they would cooperate.
“Do you have any idea where Griff might have gone?” Bartol asked, hoping for one last clue. More than anything, he wanted to finish this so Cori could be safe again, and he could go back to avoiding her before something happened that they both might regret.
The lead vampire shook his head. “That man didn’t seem to like talking about himself much, and he was rather angry when he left. I figured he’d just find another hunting cabin since he was the one to find this one for us.”
Bartol and Lucas talked to the vampires for a few more minutes before flashing back to his cabin. They hadn’t been there for more than a few seconds before Lucas’ cell phone rang.
“Hello, Melena,” he said, tone softening for the woman he loved.
“Where have you been?” she yelled, voice filled with anxiety. “I’ve tried calling a dozen times!”
Lucas’ lips thinned. “My apologies. We were checking on another vampire nest, and the signal wasn’t strong out there. What is going on?”
Bartol started to tune out the conversation since it was between husband and wife, but before he could, something she said made his blood run cold.
“Cori was attacked,” Melena told Lucas in an urgent voice. “The paramedics and police are at her tattoo shop now, but according to Bambi, she’s lost a lot of blood. I’m stuck at the office for the next hour for a meeting I can’t miss. It would help if one of you could get there before they take her to the hospital and see how bad she is. Paula treating her might be better.”
Bartol stiffened. Paula was a vampire and doctor for the supernatural community. If Cori’s condition was severe enough, she might need too much of the vampire’s blood, and it would turn her. He was the only one who knew how careful they needed to be when handling her treatment.
While Lucas continued talking to his wife on the phone, Bartol flashed into the tattoo parlor. Since it was crowded with emergency personnel, he chose to arrive in the supply room. As soon as he solidified, he hurried toward the front of the shop where paramedics hovered over Cori as they attempted to staunch her wounds. She was pale, her shirt and jeans bloody and torn, and her eyes were closed. If not for her breath fogging up the oxygen mask on her face, he might have worried she was dead. He’d left her for only a few hours to track down her former husband, and now she was fighting for her life. Bartol should have let Lucas handle the vampires and stayed with her instead.
“Her pulse is weak and thready, and she’s going into shock,” one paramedic said. “We need to get her loaded up now!”
Bartol’s vision swam, and he grew lightheaded. Cori was such a strong and vital woman that he could hardly believe she was lying so still and lifeless on the floor. This had to be someone else—not her. He’d seen more humans die during his time than he could count, and he’d had to get used to it happening again and again, but this one would not die. Not on his watch.
He pulled himself together and grabbed hold of one of the EMTs, yanking him to his feet. Before Bartol made a decision about what to do, he needed as much information as possible. “How bad is she?”
“Who are you?” the man asked, irritated to be taken from his patient.
A couple of policemen headed his way, and others were staring. He needed to resolve this situation swiftly for Cori’s sake. Bartol pushed his power out until he’d latched onto the minds of everyone in the immediate vicinity. His voice was thunderous when he spoke, “None of you will question my presence here, and you will fully cooperate with me.”
Everyone went back to what they were doing without a word. Bartol repeated his question to the paramedic, focusing his power on the one man so he could be sure to get the truth.
“She’s lost a lot of blood, but it doesn’t look like any major organs were damaged.” The human glanced over at Cori. “She should be okay as long as we get her to the hospital quickly. The other guy is worse.”
“Other guy? Do you mean the assailant?” Bartol asked.
The EMT pointed at a stretcher they were rolling out from the back. “We were told he was a customer she was working on when the attack happened. A knife went through his back and punctured his lung.”
“And the person who did this to them?”
The young man cleared his throat. “He’s dead. This female victim…” He gestured at Cori. “…shot him in the head and killed him. They’ve already taken his body away.”
Bartol caught movement from the corner of his eye. They were lifting Cori onto a stretcher. He caught the faint sound of a moan coming from her, though she didn’t open her eyes. He needed to decide on a course of action. Normally, he could think and act quickly, but when it came to what was best for this particular woman, he seemed to lose all reason.
On the one hand, she would probably survive if she went to the hospital, assuming the EMT’s assessment was correct. They would give her human blood to replace what she’d lost, which would be the safest route to take. On the other hand, it would mean she’d suffer until sunset when they could get a vampire out to heal her wounds. Then Bartol remembered Lucas’ twin brother, Micah, was a strong healer. It would take a lot of power, considering the extent of Cori’s injuries, and the process would be slower than with a vampire’s assistance, but it would be safer. They’d still need to replace the lost blood, though, which was likely the reason Melena had suggested Paula as the best option.
Lucas appeared next to him, using his power to make people ignore him. “How bad?”
“She’s in shock.” Bartol watched as the paramedics worked to strap Cori to the stretcher. His chest tightened a little more with every moment she didn’t open her hazel eyes and look at him. “She’s been stabbed twice and lost a lot of blood.”
“Taking her to Paula would be the fastest way to help her,” Lucas said.
“It’s too dangerous.” Bartol went on to explain what they’d learned from the mystic who had warned them. “Your brother could help as long as we can acquire human blood to replace what she has lost.”
Lucas grimaced. “He’s on a training exercise with some of the nerou. I don’t know his precise location at the moment, and it’s unlikely I’ll be able to reach him by phone, but it shouldn’t take long to track him down. Let the humans take her to the hospital so she can get a blood transfusion. By the time they finish, I should have Micah.”
They were beginning to roll Cori away on the stretcher with an IV bag attached to her arm and the oxygen mask still in place. Bartol couldn’t stand the idea of letting her out of his sight. “Fine. Find your brother as soon as you can and meet me at the hospital.”
“She will be fine,” Lucas said. He started to raise a comforting hand toward Bartol’s shoulder but stopped himself and cleared his throat. “I’ll see you again soon.”
He nodded. “I know.”
As soon as Lucas flashed away, Bartol rushed toward the ambulance. He waited until they’d loaded Cori inside before joining her. It was a tight space for him to be in with humans he didn’t know, but he would suffer the discomfort for her.
“Are you family?” another EMT asked. He hadn’t been in the shop when Bartol had compelled everyone.
“Uh, well…” It was such a simple question and easy enough to lie about it, but he still hesitated for a moment. “Yes.”
The man didn’t look convinced. Bartol pushed his power out and compelled him to not worry about it. The EMT relaxed, returning his attention to his patient. Someone shut the back doors, and a moment later they were on their way.
During the ride, they worked to keep Cori stable. Bartol listened to them note her vitals, unable to comprehend anything they said. There were so many things he still needed to learn before he would fit into this world. He felt useless and helpless. If only he’d been
gifted with stronger healing abilities, he could act now, but the most he could do was minor injuries—nothing like this.
Bartol’s attention fell to Cori’s left hand, lying limply next to her on the stretcher. It was pale and more fragile than glass. Her index finger twitched. As if pulled by a force stronger than him, he found himself taking hold of that hand. He rubbed the palm gently with his thumb. Cori was unconscious and weak right now, which somehow made it easier to touch her. At least, that’s what he told himself.
He bowed his head, wondering what life would be like without her in it. Almost from the moment he’d left Purgatory, she’d been around to constantly needle and challenge him. Most of the time, he wanted to throttle her for it, but in the deep, dark recesses of his mind a part of him enjoyed her attention. She gave him something he’d feared he’d lost forever—hope. It was a powerful thing for a man who could no longer remember why he wanted to live. For so long, he’d gone through the motions of life because suicide wasn’t an option. Taking things one day at a time was all he could do.
“Bartol,” she called out his name in a weak whisper.
He looked up, surprised to find Cori’s eyes open and staring at him. “I’m here.”
She gasped in a breath through the breathing mask. “You should see your face.”
“What do you mean?”
“You look like you care.” The corners of her eyes crinkled with amusement. “I told you so.”
He stiffened. “I’ve never wanted to see you suffer harm.”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” she said, voice fading. She squeezed his hand, and then her eyes drifted shut. The cunning woman knew how to end the conversation before he could respond. He would expect no less of her.
The ambulance came to a halt a moment later, and the EMTs began moving. Bartol forced himself to let go of Cori and climb out of the vehicle. He watched while they unloaded her, making certain they took care as they did it. A flurry of activity surrounded her once they got her into the emergency room, and they tried to force him away. He turned invisible, not bothering to soothe their minds about how that happened. After a moment of confusion over where he might have gone, they turned their attention back to Cori.
Bartol paced the floor. It seemed like a lifetime went by as doctors worked to determine the extent of her injuries and decide on a course of action. She was given several pints of blood, and after they confirmed none of her vital organs had been damaged, they closed the wounds. Melena showed up at some point, pacing around the hallway outside. Since she could not turn invisible, he left Cori just long enough to give the sensor an update. Then he resumed his watch.
Lucas and Micah arrived about the time the doctors finished patching Cori up. While Lucas always appeared perfectly groomed and dressed, his brother was a different matter. Micah had long, blond hair and wore casual jeans and a t-shirt. He was in a band, though the only time Bartol had heard him sing was at Lucas and Melena’s wedding party. The nephilim had an impressive voice on him. But today, the only thing that mattered was his ability to heal Cori.
“The doctors just left,” Bartol said, then updated the brothers on all that had occurred at the hospital.
Micah compelled the medical staff to stay away and moved next to Cori to examine her. His gaze turned unfocused as he used his abilities to scan inside her body. For several minutes, he stood quiet and still.
“Her injuries are not too bad,” he said after his expression cleared.
Bartol stood next to him. “She’s been in quite a lot of pain, and she’s been unconscious most of the time.”
“Trauma will do that to a person, but I can help with that.” He gestured at Bartol. “I will need you to hold her down while I work.”
“Any part of her in particular?” he asked the nephilim. He placed his hands where Micah directed, trying to put the right amount of pressure without hurting Cori. When he glanced up, he noted both brothers had amusement in their gazes. “What?”
“You didn’t even hesitate to touch her,” Lucas said.
Bartol sighed. “She’s not even conscious.”
Micah chuckled. “She’s been awake the whole time I’ve been here, but she’s been keeping her eyes closed.”
“What? She can’t be…” His gaze shot to Cori as she slowly lifted her lids. “Why would you do that?”
She gave him a weak smile. “I figured pretending to sleep would make you more comfortable around me, and you might stay longer.”
“You thought I’d leave you?”
Cori’s brows drew together, and he noted a hint of vulnerability in her gaze. She spoke softly, “You had no reason to stay.”
Bartol didn’t know how to reply to that. How could she think he’d leave her alone with strangers while she was injured and vulnerable? It was so absurd that he refused to address it further. He turned his attention to Micah and gestured at Cori. “You can begin healing her now.”
As the nephilim began to use his healing powers, she jerked under his hands. The process could be quite painful, especially the first time when the patient didn’t know what to expect. Bartol called her name to draw her gaze to his and murmured reassurances until she relaxed.
“I will not leave you until you’re better,” he promised.
She blinked. “Thank you.”
“It is nothing, but you will have to cook me several dinners for this and deliver them to my door.”
Cori winced as Micah worked on her shoulder. “I’ll cook you as many meals as you want if you eat at my house instead—naked.”
Lucas made a choking noise. “I believe I’ll go give my wife an update now.”
Bartol watched him go and turned his attention back to Cori. “Vow to me that you will not leave your house—for any reason—until we dispose of your former husband, and I’ll eat dinner with you naked.”
“Yeah, right. You know I won’t ever take that deal,” she said, then groaned in pain. “I won’t live in a cage for anyone.”
“Keep her still,” Micah warned.
Bartol pressed down on her good shoulder and leg a little harder. “You must still cook me a meal regardless.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, then turned her face toward Micah. “I need you to help one more person after me.”
“You are going to take all of my powers to fix,” he said, giving her a stern look.
She struggled under Bartol’s hold. “Then don’t fix me all the way. My customer, Hayden, is hurt worse and needs you more.”
“We’ll call in a vampire.”
Cori’s gaze turned frantic. “No vampires—ever. It’s too dangerous. You will fix him with your magic. Hayden told me to run to safety even after he was already injured and the attacker was on him. It’s my fault he was hurt at all.”
“He’s not my responsibility,” Micah argued. “You are.”
She turned her attention to Bartol, desperation all over her face. “Please tell him he has to help Hayden. I had to kill an innocent man today because of Griff. I can’t handle it if another guy suffers because of me, too.”
Bartol stood there in indecision. He wanted all her injuries healed now, but he also didn’t want to see her suffering from guilt. Cori hid her pain so well most of the time that it made it that much more difficult to see her begging like this. For her, the injured customer came first, which he supposed he could understand even if he didn’t like it.
Bartol met Micah’s gaze. “Heal her enough to help speed her recovery, but after that, do what you can for the other guy.”
“Are you certain about this?” Lucas’ brother asked, doubtful.
He nodded. “Yes. Because she’s going to consent to letting us put her into a healing sleep after we take her home.” Bartol addressed Cori, “Aren’t you?”
She swallowed, taking a moment to think about it. “If it means you guys will help Hayden, but there will be a time limit, or I’ll find a way to kill you both after I wake up.”
Micah sighed. “Very
well.”
Cori relaxed, satisfied she’d gotten her way. Bartol looked forward to putting her to sleep so she’d be quiet and easy to keep safe for a while.
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.