by Susan Illene
After he was certain the human understood and the compulsion would hold him, Bartol flashed back to Cori at her cabin. He found her dumping items into a pile on her lawn, including a lumpy duffel bag, a laptop, picture frames, and a revolver. She must have made at least two trips to have that many personal possessions out of harm’s way. Standing there barefoot in nothing except a pair of flannel pants and a camisole, she looked like she was planning a third run inside. The only thing that slowed her down was that she had to stop midway and cough heavily from the smoke inhalation. Bartol ran his gaze to the cabin and found the flames had spread toward the living room. They would engulf the whole place in a few minutes.
Left with no choice, he grabbed her and flashed her farther back. “It’s too late. You cannot go in there again.”
“I have to.” She coughed. “My daughter’s portraits are still in there!”
He stared into her face, smudged with soot and ash. The desperation in her eyes told him she’d die before losing those portraits. “I’ll get them,” he promised.
“But…”
“Stay here,” he commanded, lacing as much compulsion into his voice as he had time to manage. It probably wouldn’t be enough with her resistance, but he had to try for her safety.
Bartol flashed into the cabin, going straight for the spare bedroom at the front corner of the place where the fire hadn’t reached yet. A glance toward Cori’s room showed it was already in flames. The smoke was thick, but he could go long periods without breathing before it weakened him. Holding his breath certainly wouldn’t kill him, anyway. It was the heat and ash that bothered him the most, making his eyes water.
He jerked the closet door open. The heat wasn’t as bad in there yet. If the paintings were taken out quickly, they wouldn’t suffer more than a little smoke damage. He grabbed all of the ones of Cori’s daughter, plus a few others, and flashed outside.
She took them from him with tears of relief in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“I must put the fire out now, but it’s going to take a while with the flames as high as they are.” He flicked his gaze toward the cabin, knowing it would be a loss but not wanting the fire to reach the woods and spread. “Do you have your cell phone?”
Cori nodded. “It was one of the first things I grabbed.”
“Good. Call Melena and tell her what is going on. Also, tell her I captured the arsonist up the road by my place, and I’ve compelled him to stay in his car for now. We’ll need to question him.”
“Got it,” she said, and gestured at the fire. “Now go handle that.”
Bartol flashed closer to the cabin and drew from his powers. The ability to control fire came from deep within his gut, twisting his stomach as he brought forth the extinguishing effect and sent it through his hands. Holding his palms out, he focused on the flames closest to him and willed them to die down. It took all of his concentration to bank the fire at the front of the cabin and keep it extinguished while moving toward the back of the place.
He recalled a time when such a job wouldn’t have taken him more than a few minutes, but he hadn’t done anything like this in a long time. Forest fires were one thing because they had certain patterns he could predict. Human homes were far more difficult, and more so in this day and age. The electrical lines, flammable materials, and the way a house was constructed could all affect how the fire burned. Sweat beaded his forehead as he worked little by little to dampen the flames, steadily revealing a cabin beyond repair. What had that human man used to start such a conflagration? He must have brought some sort of accelerant.
Bartol’s hands shook as he finally reached the back corner of the cabin. It was all he could do to keep fighting the flames with so much of his energy drained. He couldn’t give up, though, especially since it was his fault it had reached this state. If he had not gotten lost in thought in the woods, he would have returned sooner and seen the arsonist before he could set the blaze. Perhaps Bartol should have stayed outside of Cori’s home all night so that no one could get past him. There were far too many ways this could have been prevented, and now she would lose her lovely cabin.
To his rear, he caught the sounds of vehicles pulling up the road. Cori shouted to him that it was just Melena coming with help. He must have been working for a while for them to be there already.
Flames spread across the grass. Bartol cursed and redoubled his efforts to finish his work and get the fire out once and for all. Sweat was now pouring freely down his body, and he was growing lightheaded. It was going to take every drop of power he had to finish the job. He collapsed to his knees but kept working. A few more licks of flames died down, but more spread beyond the cabin. His vision grew hazy, but then a man with long, black hair appeared next to the conflagration and gestured with his hands. Within moments, everything was extinguished.
The man rubbed his hands together in satisfaction and headed around the ruins of the cabin. As he came closer, his face became clearer. Bartol swore. Of all the people to help him, he’d rather have died a thousand deaths than receive assistance from this one person.
“Kerbasi,” he growled.
The guardian stopped a few paces away and bowed. “No need to thank me, little nephilim. Think of it as reparation for my past transgressions against you.”
Bartol stumbled to his feet and roared. “Get away from me before I—”
“You should get cleaned up,” Kerbasi interrupted, taking a step back. “You’re a mess.” The guardian flashed away without waiting for a reply.
If Bartol hadn’t used up all of his energy, he would have tracked the guardian down and beat him to a bloody pulp. It didn’t matter that his former torturer had assisted in putting the fire out—not even a little. Kerbasi had waited until the last moment to show up as if he had somehow saved the day, and it didn’t begin to cover the damage he’d done in the past. Extinguishing a hundred fires wouldn’t have been enough.
“Come, friend,” Lucas said from behind him and held out a hand. “Let me help you get back to your cabin.”
Bartol hadn’t realized he’d collapsed onto his knees again. Flashing home wasn’t an option at this point when he could hardly stand. Hell, he was going to be lucky if he could stumble his way back. Taking a deep breath, he allowed Lucas to pull him to his feet, but he jerked away quickly after that. The weaker he got, the more sensitive he became to touch.
“I need to speak with the arsonist,” Bartol said, determined to see the rest of his self-appointed mission through.
Lucas shook his head. “He’s dead.”
“But I left him alive!”
“As best as we can tell, someone came along after that and broke his neck.” Lucas pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “And they left his note on the body.”
Bartol glanced down and read:
To Cori and her nephilim lover,
This is what you get for taking my brother and mother from me. Expect more, so much more. You will pay for this!
-G
He ground his teeth. “He was close, and I let him get away.”
“You were busy putting out a fire.” Lucas gave him a consoling look. “You didn’t have much choice.”
Bartol didn’t bother to bring up the fact it was his fault the fire got out of hand in the first place. “I wasn’t watching Cori while I dealt with the cabin, either.”
That thought reminded him, and he shot his gaze around the yard looking for her. He caught sight of Micah, Patrick, and a few others he vaguely recognized as their friends and coworkers, but he didn’t see Cori. Had he lost her while he was distracted?
“She’s fine,” Lucas said.
“Where is she?” Bartol demanded.
“Melena took her to your cabin to get her calmed down. She was rather upset.”
He let out a breath. “Is she okay?”
“I believe she had some damage to her lungs, but Micah already helped ease that problem.” Lucas gazed at him plaintively. “You were fighting that fire for q
uite a while.”
Bartol ran a hand through his hair, finding it covered in soot. “I suspect the arsonist used accelerants when he started the blaze.”
“Cori told us one of her kitchen windows was broken, which is what woke her up. That is where the fire started, so he must have thrown something flammable inside,” Lucas confirmed.
“I believe he poured something on the back walls as well.”
Lucas sighed. “I will make certain her insurance pays for this, but it will take time to rebuild even if we rush the process.”
“She can stay with me for now,” Bartol said. “After she is out of danger, she can decide where to go from there.”
“Are you certain about that?” Lucas asked, knitting his brows.
“No, but I want her safe, and I don’t want her to leave my sight again until that former husband of hers is dead.” Of that much, he was certain.
Chapter 21
Cori
The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on Bartol’s couch while talking to Melena. The sensor had consoled her while she wept at the loss of nearly everything she owned. Cori had managed to save her most important personal possessions, but she still couldn’t get over how many other things she’d lost forever, including the beautiful kitchen she’d had remodeled after moving into the cabin. It was all gone now. Repairing her truck was one thing, but her home? Even if the insurance covered the cost to rebuild completely, it would take time, and it wouldn’t be the same as before.
It was too much to take in at once, and she couldn’t face it right now.
Rolling onto her back, she noticed she wasn’t on the couch anymore. It was definitely a firm mattress with soft sheets that smelled suspiciously like Bartol, a mixture of sandalwood and spice. Cori opened her eyes and scanned her surroundings. Thick, dark-blue curtains shielded the sunlight, leaving the room dim, and the door was shut.
Pushing a white, down comforter away from her, she reached over and turned on a lamp. This was the first time she’d seen Bartol’s bedroom, and it was nicer than she’d expected. Part of her wouldn’t have been surprised if he slept on a cot with a milk crate for a nightstand. He’d always given her the impression he was a rustic sort of guy and didn’t care for luxuries all that much.
Then Cori remembered that Melena and Lucas had insisted on purchasing quality furniture for Bartol so he would be comfortable in his new home. They’d chosen well. The bedroom set included the four-poster bed she’d slept on, an armoire, a dresser, and two nightstands. They were all stained dark mocha and smelled of fresh pine. Matching wrought iron lamps sat on each of the nightstands with shades the same color as the window curtains. As a final touch, a fake tree sat in the corner.
Even with the room filled with furniture, though, it still had an empty feeling to it. Bartol didn’t have anything personal in there to make it his. At the very least, he should have had a pair of shoes lying on the floor, paintings on the wall, or even some cologne sitting on the dresser.
Cori slid off the bed, noting it sat higher than her own. Her bare feet touched the cool wood floor, and she let out a shuddering breath as she looked down at herself. She still wore the same clothes as the previous night, which reeked of smoke, and she desperately needed a shower. The bed sheets would also need to be washed before they could be used again. How had she ended up in Bartol’s bed anyway? Had he braved touching her so he could move her to his most personal domain? The thought made her smile. Maybe all her efforts were helping him make progress after all.
Padding to the door, Cori opened it and poked her head out. There was a folded blanket and a pillow on the couch but no sign of Bartol. She caught sight of the duffle bag of clothes she’d saved last night sitting outside the bedroom door. That was all the motivation she needed to focus on taking a shower and worrying about the nephilim later. Scooping up the bag, she headed for the bathroom. Inside, she found it empty of any decorations with only a clear shower curtain over the tub and a few bottles of personal hygiene products set neatly in a row. The tile was solid white and the sink freestanding. A prison restroom would have had more character than this, though Bartol’s was no doubt cleaner. It also smelled heavily of bleach.
She stripped off her clothes and hopped into the shower. In her spree to save her things, she hadn’t had time to grab anything from her bathroom. Most of the stuff in there was easier to replace, so it hadn’t been a priority. She had no choice now except to use Bartol’s shampoo and soap, which he must have taken some care with choosing because they matched the scent she always caught on him. It felt a little naughty to be using his stuff without asking him first, but that only made the experience even more thrilling.
After finishing her shower and borrowing a comb from the medicine cabinet to get the tangles out of her hair, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It made her feel marginally better now that she was cleaner, and the smoke smell wasn’t filling her nose every time she breathed.
Cori stared at herself in the mirror, noting the circles under her eyes and the lack of makeup. She looked worn out. Last night, she’d let herself cry because she’d needed a little time to mourn. Today, she had to put her chin up and move forward. Nothing could be gained by curling up in a ball and moaning about how unfair life could be. Cori had long since learned that lesson. Instead, she’d take the day to get herself back together and figure out where to go from here. She would also need to let Asher know she’d have to miss another day of work. Not only would that further hurt her finances, but she’d have to pay him extra for covering her shop so often recently. If Griff’s goal was to make her go broke, he was doing a damn good job of it. She could only pray to God that she and her friends found him and ended this soon.
Picking up her bag, she left the bathroom and found Bartol waiting for her in the living room. He held a steaming cup of coffee in his hand that he offered to her. It was a silly thing, but it meant a lot to her that he’d made it without her asking. He was totally making up for ignoring her the last couple of days after their rather heated kiss that he’d run away from.
She left her things by the bedroom door and took the coffee. “Thanks. I seriously need this.”
“I thought you would.”
Cori gazed around the living room. For the last few months, he’d never let her inside. It felt a little awkward now that she’d more or less forced him to take her in. “I’m sorry for imposing,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ll figure out somewhere else to go soon.”
“You are not imposing.” Bartol’s voice rolled over her, more soothing than usual. “I told Melena you would be staying here. At the very least, until the danger is over.”
She looked at him in surprise. “I thought you valued your privacy.”
“I do.”
“Then why let me stay here?” she asked, drawing her brows together.
This time he avoided her gaze. “It is the easiest way to watch over you and keep you safe.”
“Even after our kiss?”
Bartol ran a hand through his hair, and responded with heavy regret in his voice, “That was a mistake, but I will not allow it to affect your safety again.”
Cori flinched, not liking the implications. “Then let me go.”
“I wish I could.” His expression turned so intense it practically scorched her. “But I can’t.”
Her jaw dropped. Before she could respond, he strode past her to his bedroom. The door shut with a firm click. It occurred to her then that he hadn’t had a chance to shower or change clothes since last night, either. He’d given up his room and avoided going in there even while she slept.
She took her cup of coffee and headed for the kitchen. Maybe she could make things up to him by preparing them some breakfast. She opened the fridge, finding an almost empty milk cartoon, a bottle of ketchup, and a couple of slices of cheese. In the cabinets, all she found was canned soup and a mostly empty cereal box. That wasn’t going to work at all if she was going to be staying here for
a while.
“Bartol,” she called out. “You and I are going grocery shopping today!”
She thought she heard a loud grunt for a reply.
Cori finished her coffee and poured another cup. While she added sugar and cream, Bartol came out of the bedroom with a stack of neatly folded clothes and went straight to the bathroom. He didn’t glance her way once. After the shower started running, she headed for the bedroom and discovered he’d already pulled the sheets off of the bed. The man was more than a little fastidious. If Cori were in the market for a husband, she’d pick him just to put some spice back into his life.
She took the sheets and carried them to the kitchen where a washer and dryer sat in the corner by the back door. Both the appliances were the most basic versions one could find these days. Lucas and Melena must have picked the set out so that Bartol wouldn’t have too much trouble figuring out how to work them. She got the wash ready to go but didn’t turn it on yet since she didn’t want to mess up the hot water for Bartol’s shower. Once they were ready to leave, she could start it.
After that, she pulled her duffle bag out and organized her things, figuring out what she had left to wear and what would need to be replaced soon. Other than a pair of boots and some running shoes, she had nothing left for her feet. She had managed to grab four pairs of pants, some socks, her entire underwear drawer, and about a dozen shirts. All of it had been shoved into the bag haphazardly and took a few minutes to sort out. Cori had enough to get by for a little while, but she’d have to go shopping at some point and spend more money she couldn’t spare. At least Lucas and Melena had promised they would deal with the insurance company and get the process sped up so she could get her settlement money sooner. They’d even managed to get a police report filled out before leaving last night.
Bartol came out of the shower, hair wet and plastered to his face and head. He’d donned jeans and socks already, but he didn’t have a shirt on yet. Cori’s mouth went dry, and she couldn’t help but stare at the cut abs and chiseled pectorals on blatant display before her. It was enough to make her weep, thinking no woman had touched his body intimately in over a century.