by Susan Illene
Cori rolled her eyes. “Should’ve known there’d be a catch.”
“She has angel contacts,” Melena argued. “She should pass on the problem to them.”
“They will not listen to her without more reliable confirmation. Apparently, that would be someone from here.” He glanced between Cori and Melena as if they had that kind of pull.
“We aren’t that significant to the angels,” the sensor muttered.
“This is stupid. Can’t they just figure out these things for themselves?” Cori asked.
Melena lifted a brow. “In case you haven’t noticed, they don’t ever interfere on Earth until something becomes a major problem—our mates being the apparent exception to the rule. The last time we had a demon on the rise, it took me dying for a few seconds to get their attention and even then it was because it was Lucas’ sworn job to keep me alive. Remiel showed up to punish him when he realized what was happening.”
“Good grief.” Cori didn’t think she’d ever understand the angels’ way of thinking and doing things.
“Exactly.” Caius nodded. “Which is why I’d hoped Bartol could come speak with Zoe. She has no issues with him, and he can freely travel.”
“But he won’t come with you, will he?” Cori surmised by the frustrated look on the nephilim’s face.
“I need you to convince him.”
She snorted. “I haven’t even seen him in nearly a month because he won’t see me or talk to me. You’d have better luck finding Lucas and seeing if he can get Bartol to come out of hiding.”
“Why would he not see his own mate?” the nephilim asked, perplexed.
“It’s a long story,” Melena replied. “But let’s just say his stay in Purgatory has made him less than sociable and asking him to leave his cabin is a chore, much less going out of the state or country.”
Caius worked his jaw. “You have to try.”
“Why should we?” Cori asked, lifting a brow. “Is this going to be dangerous?”
“Zoe will not hurt him,” he promised. “All we need right now is to find out what she knows so that we can begin searching for the demon and stopping him. I assure you that your mate is the best one for this job.”
Cori considered it. “But once you have the information you need, will Bartol be going on this hunt?”
The nephilim shrugged. “That will be up to him, though it seems unlikely based on his response so far.”
“How dangerous is this demon?” She wasn’t about to help this guy without knowing the full stakes.
“There are reports that death follows wherever he goes, but as I said, my information is limited.” He went on to describe his meetings with mystics in Athens and what they’d told him. “It will only get worse from here if we don’t stop the demon in time.”
“And you’re sure there’s no one else she’ll talk to other than Bartol?”
Caius nodded. “I would not be pleading my case with you otherwise.”
Cori didn’t want a bunch of human deaths on her conscience. If a simple meeting could help this nephilim on his hunt, she had to at least make an effort. “I’ll try talking to him, but I can’t guarantee he’ll even see me.”
“There might be one way.” Melena frowned in thought. “But it’s going to mean hitting him on several fronts, including using his mate to soften him.”
“Whatever it takes,” Caius replied.
“Is this going to make him even angrier with me?” Cori asked warily.
The last thing she wanted was to make matters worse between them. Just because she wasn’t ready to make the ultimate commitment didn’t mean she wanted to do anything to hurt him. She cared about Bartol more than anyone knew, and she believed with time they could forge a true bond. It was just best if they didn’t rush into it. After her first ruinous marriage, she wanted to be careful before diving into something that could last for centuries or even millennia.
The sensor smiled. “If we handle it right, your job will probably be the easiest.”
That sounded promising, especially if it meant she’d finally be able to spend time with her mate and maybe work things out with him. “And you have a way I could see him without him running?”
“Of course.” Melena nodded. “But I was saving this as a last resort because it’s probably going to make Bartol really angry with me. You should be fine, though.”
“Alright,” Cori said, hoping she was making the right choice by going along with this. “Tell me more.”
The sensor looked to Caius. “I’m telling you now that none of this is going to happen until Lucas confirms your story. If we find out anything is false, we’re kicking your ass out of town.”
“I understand,” he said, dipping his chin.
“Then this is what we’re going to do…” the sensor began, laying out her plan.
Chapter 3
Cori
Cori shifted on her feet, glancing nervously toward the woods beside Bartol’s log cabin. The ground had a thick layer of undisturbed snow at least a foot deep and in some places more than two feet. There was no sign of a trail to suggest there might be anything within the thick forest. She’d be fighting for every step along the way.
“Are you sure he has a work shed back there?” Cori asked, turning to Melena.
The sensor nodded. “I’m not supposed to know about it, but I sensed him in there more than once and checked it out one day while he was gone. It’s definitely a full blown carpentry workshop, and he’s in there now.”
Cori sighed. “I don’t feel him.”
“Your mating bond is weak, but that’s good in this case because he won’t sense you coming, either. Of course, if things go well today, you won’t have that advantage anymore.”
It was rather depressing to think that they’d barely mated, and then let their bond weaken to the point she couldn’t sense him until he was really close. Cori had to rely on Melena and her ability to detect supernaturals to confirm the whereabouts of the man she was supposed to be tied to for life. Supposedly, their bond could weaken to the point of barely being discernible, but it wouldn’t break.
“Just do what I told you to do,” Melena said, nudging Cori gently. “But don’t push him too far this first time. This is a marathon, not a race. You’ve got to be careful, or this whole plan could backfire on us.”
And they couldn’t allow that to happen. Lucas had confirmed through reliable sources that there was a powerful demon moving through Europe, causing horrible deaths along the way. One of the people he’d talked to, an archangel named Remiel, insisted Bartol was the best person to meet Zoe, though he didn’t explain why. He was just very adamant about it, as if no one else could do the job better. There was something strange about that. What could her mate do that others couldn’t? Was she setting Bartol up for something dangerous even though everyone swore he just had to get the location of the demon? She was on the fence about all of it, but she also couldn’t resist her part of the plan. It was something she’d been wanting to do anyway.
“Yeah, got it. I won’t push him,” Cori said, turning away from the sensor.
She steeled her spine and began the long walk through the woods. She was supposed to go due west from the cabin, but that was easier said than done. Trees and high banks of snow blocked her path more often than not. She had to veer around them and use the faint glimpses of the sun through the high canopy to keep track of her direction. It was a good thing they’d planned this for late morning. With daylight hours in short supply, there was no way she could have made it through the woods at night by herself. Not without a flashlight and compass, which would have looked ridiculous since she was only traveling a quarter mile into the forest. Not to mention it wouldn’t have worked well with what she planned to do once she reached her destination.
Eventually, she caught sight of a large workshop made primarily of sheet metal and wood. It was larger than expected and probably about fifty feet by thirty feet with a steeply sloped metal roof and a stovepipe
jutting from the top, billowing out smoke.
Bartol hated the cold, despite being immortal. She wasn’t surprised he’d added a source of heat to his private work place. In fact, she was rather glad because after slogging through the snow for twenty minutes, she was desperate for warmth. Cori could handle cold better after she’d been altered by Melena’s blood, but it was below zero outside, and her more resilient body still had its limits, especially with what she was wearing.
Cori took her time, not wanting to make too much noise during her approach. Every time she’d tried to stop by Bartol’s cabin before to talk, he’d spotted her driving up and disappeared. This shed gave her the advantage because he wasn’t expecting her to find him there, and it only had one small window next to the door that she could easily avoid by coming in from the side.
Every step was agonizing as she crept closer, finally reaching the building and skirting near the wall to avoid being seen. Training her ears, she caught the sound of metal scraping along wood in a rhythmic pattern. Mel had said he was making furniture in there, and Cori was dying to know what it looked like. She touched a gloved hand to the doorknob, turning it slowly.
This was the moment of truth. Would he stay and hear her out or would he flash away? Cori wasn’t religious—not even after meeting angels and getting a glimpse of the pearly gates—but she prayed to God that Bartol didn’t run this time. There was only so much she could take.
Pushing the door open, she stepped inside. He had his muscular back to her, sitting on a stool as he worked on a long piece of wood in front of him. She couldn’t be sure, but it might have been the beginnings of a table leg…or part of a chair? It was difficult to say at this early stage, but it was cylindrical and about three feet long.
She could finally sense him through their bond, which meant he could do the same.
He stiffened and turned his head to the side, giving her the beautiful side of his face framed by silky, golden-brown hair. “What are you doing here?”
His voice was gruff and didn’t come out all that welcoming. Her heart died a little at the complete lack of warmth. Sure, he’d been avoiding this meeting, but she’d hoped it was because he wouldn’t be able to resist her if she got close enough. A silly thought, but a woman could always dream.
Cori was nowhere near saying she loved him, but she cared for him and wanted to try making things work. It just needed to happen a little more slowly than what had taken place a mere month ago. One hot night of sex and they were bonded for life. That was not the way things worked in the human world and rarely even in the supernatural world. She’d been caught off guard. If Bartol would admit it, there had been similar surprise in his eyes as well. Neither of them had planned or expected it.
“I came to see you,” she said.
“I thought I made it clear that you should stay away,” he growled, then returned to his scraping.
She couldn’t help noticing his hands and long, dexterous fingers. They were roughened from his work with the wood, and yet they appeared strong and capable. She’d had those hands on her before. They could do things a woman only dreamed about and some things they wouldn’t have ever imagined. He might hate touching and being intimate, but his centuries of experience still shone through in what he did manage to do to her. God help her if he ever got over his time in Purgatory and the psychological damage done to him there. He’d take her over, mind and body, until she forgot herself and never returned.
Cori took a deep breath, knowing she needed to do something to mend the rift between them. “I want to tell you I’m sorry. It might have seemed like I was rejecting you, but I was in shock. Please believe me when I tell you that if I could take back leaving you that day, I would. I wish to God I’d stayed and talked to you instead.”
Silence. She waited for more than a minute for some sort of response or at least an acknowledgment that he’d heard her. The wood-burning stove was off to her left, tempting her to move closer to its warmth, but she stood her ground by the door and didn’t move. She had a plan and wouldn’t deviate from it.
“One might assume you wish you’d never left because your former husband captured you, tortured you, and nearly killed you as a result of fleeing me.” He swiveled a fraction on his stool and met her gaze, golden eyes blazing with emotion. “I would have kept you safe, and I never would have left your side the way you left mine.”
Damn, that was harsh. A lump formed in her throat. She’d run away from him soon after their one night of sex while he’d been asleep. It must have seemed like a rejection even though she’d just needed to go talk to Melena—the only other woman Cori knew who’d been through the mating process.
“I don’t mean I’d take back what happened with Griff—I most likely deserved that after what I did to him.” Because she’d believed she’d killed him years ago, but really she’d just left him for dead in a snowdrift. He’d survived thanks to someone finding him and turning him into a vampire. “I’m sorry I left you.”
“You know that isn’t my only problem with you,” he replied.
She nodded. “Because I’m not ready to fully commit and let you make me immortal.”
That was a huge step and not one she was prepared to make—even with the angels sanctioning it. Cori had already lost loved ones and suffered enough during her thirty years of life, including losing her daughter. Could she really handle centuries of losing more people she cared about? She had to be damn sure she and Bartol could make things work before she even considered that kind of commitment.
At least right now she was merely long lived and would eventually die of old age within a couple of hundred years, give or take a decade or two. She could also still be killed by mortal blows or an accident if the physical trauma was bad enough. That made life more precious to her, knowing there would be an end. But if Bartol gave her his blood and she completed the transition to immortal, it would be next to impossible for her to die.
“You haven’t changed your mind,” he surmised, jaw hardening. “I can see it in your eyes.”
She wouldn’t lie to him. “No, but it’s not as if you’ve tried very hard to convince me it would be worth taking a chance with you.”
“Either you want it, or you don’t.”
Cori pulled her blue knit cap off, freeing her dark hair. It wasn’t long—just brushing her shoulders—but Bartol’s gaze fell to the wavy locks like a man who’d been starved of a woman’s presence for a long time. Good. He might not be acting all that receptive to her yet, but subconsciously he still wanted her. She unwound her matching blue scarf next. His gaze fell on her bare neck, and he moistened his lips.
“Oh, there are some things I want from you for sure,” Cori said, taking a step forward as she let her cap and scarf fall to the floor.
His shoulders tensed. “I’m well aware of that, but you know I’m not like other men. I will never be like them. It is the only reason I understand your running away, and why you should stay away—for good.”
There was pain in Bartol’s voice as he said those final words, true anguish from a man who’d lost hope and given up on himself. Though Cori was freezing and longed to move closer to the wood stove, she made herself keep going toward him. Just one more step. Now, they were only ten feet apart. She slid her gloves off next and tossed them down, leaving a trail of clothing behind her.
“Bartol.” Her voice came out soft and alluring. “I’ll take you any way I can get you—scars, psychological damage and all. That has never been my problem and never will be. I promise.”
He sat there, stiff and uncompromising in his seat. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You’ll want more eventually, and I won’t be able to give that to you.”
She couldn’t deny that not being able to touch him, caress him, or even run her lips over his skin didn’t bother her. More than anything in the world she wanted to do those things. But she’d seen the stricken looks and horror in his eyes the few times she made the mistake of touching him too intimately.
He might have learned to hold her and touch her, but it would be a long road before she could do the same to him. Bartol claimed it would never happen, but she had to believe that someday—somehow—she could break past his trauma, and they could be together in every possible way.
Cori unzipped her winter coat, which ran all the way down to her ankles, and opened it wide. Bartol sucked in a breath as he caught a glimpse of her naked body. That had been the hardest part about tromping through the snow. She had all her usual outer clothes but nothing underneath, and it had nearly frozen her. With a small shrug, she let the coat fall to the floor. The only things left were her socks and high winter boots. Cori reached down to remove those next.
“Don’t.” Bartol jerked to his feet.
There was a loud crash, brilliant light flashed all around, and then she felt strong arms grab her from behind. In the blink of an eye, he had her face down on the work table—wiped clean in the last few moments—and his hands were sculpted over her ass.
“Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked with a growl.
She was getting more turned on than she could describe just by having her mate touch her after so many weeks apart. It was all she could do to breathe out one word. “Yes.”
“Then don’t move.”
Bartol leaned down and rained kisses along her back all while continuing to caress her buttocks and thighs. Cori moaned. Dear God, he knew how to touch her in all the right places. She reached forward and gripped the far edge of the table, bracing herself for whatever came next. The roughness of the table scratched at her nipples, hardening them. And the cold? It was steadily being forgotten as the nephilim behind her raised the heat in the room with his touch and his gaze.
“You’re a fool,” he said, kneeling behind her.
Cori let him spread her legs far apart. “Just don’t stop.”
His warm breath tickled her thighs. “I don’t plan on it as long as you remain like this.”