Destined for Dreams: Book 2 (Dark Destiny Series)

by Susan Illene

  Most humans were too damaged for Bartol to save, but out of the dozen he’d ridden of their inner demons, two had survived. Caius took them to the hospital right away since both were in a coma. Raguel had promised it was simply shock, and they’d come out of it with time.

  Bartol finally took a break from practice to await Cori’s arrival. She’d called from the airport, letting him know that she, Melena, and the others would be arriving soon. Remiel had allowed a surprising number of the Alaskan contingent to come to the United Kingdom for this battle, despite their usual travel restrictions. Caius’ house was about to become rather full, but at least there were plenty of bedrooms in the place.

  Two SUVs pulled up to the front of the house. In the first, Lucas and Melena got out of the front with Kerbasi and Ariel coming from the backseat. Bartol stiffened at the sight of the guardian, resisting the urge to attack him. After battling demons all morning, he was still in a fighting mood.

  “I am impressed by your restraint,” Raguel said, coming to stand beside him.

  Bartol dragged his gaze from the guardian to his father. “He is not worth my anger.”

  “Discipline such as that will help you go far.” The archangel cast a menacing look at Kerbasi, who saw it and cringed. “He is worth neither of our time.”

  Caius joined them. “Not to worry. The guardian will be staying in the smallest room on the ground floor. It’s little more than a closet with only a bed and nightstand. With luck, you won’t have to see him any more than necessary.”

  “Good.” Though if Bartol had his way, the former torturer would sleep in the garden in the cold.

  More people began getting out of the second vehicle. Micah was first, followed by Patrick, then a woman Bartol had not met before but had been informed ahead of time that her name was Honor, and finally Cori. His heart skipped a beat at finally seeing her again.

  She smiled and waved before turning to grab her bag. He hurried toward her and took it. A part of him wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her, but he wasn’t quite ready for such a public display of affection. Actually, he wasn’t certain how he was going to handle her while she was in London. Bartol had planned to take things slow upon his return to Alaska and let things continue to build as they had through their phone conversations in recent weeks. Except with so many guests, it was expected that he would share his room with his mate. How could he explain the difficulties of such an arrangement? While he’d managed to sleep in the same bed with her not long ago, it hadn’t been easy. He’d suffered nightmares that woke her, and she’d jarred him from sleep every time she accidentally touched him.

  “You should not have come,” Bartol said, repeating what he’d already told her over the phone. He was trying very hard to hide how pleased he was to see her.

  It must not have worked because she shot him a saucy grin. “You’ll get over it.”

  That smile was too much to resist. The woman practically glowed when she looked at him, and he found it intoxicating. Bartol leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You’ll pay for your crime, rest assured. I kept my end of the bargain, but you failed to keep yours.”

  “I’d say I’m scared, but I’m really not,” she said, light breath tickling his neck.

  Any doubts Bartol may have had that this woman couldn’t bring him back from the brink of berserker madness were wiped away. He wouldn’t say she was the light to his darkness since she had her own grim past, but she was the other half of his soul. Even in his weakest moments, he would always recognize that.

  “Come, I’ll show you to our room.”

  A throat cleared behind him. “Perhaps you could introduce me to your mate.”

  “Is this…” Cori’s eyes rounded. “Is this your father?”

  The archangel stood there, imperious and imposing, though he had attempted to soften his features. “I am Raguel.”

  “Damn, you’re rocking some major power vibes there.” His mate blushed and covered her mouth. “Sorry, my mouth tends to run away with me sometimes.”

  Raguel gave her an amused look. “You would not be the first human I’ve met with that problem.”

  “She lacks a filter between her mouth and her brain, but I find it amusing—usually,” Bartol said, pulling his mate into his side. Some primal urge made him want her close, despite his aversion to touch. Cori relaxed against him, making him feel even more secure. Perhaps it was the mating bond needing them to reach out to each other.

  “Your mother could be outspoken as well.” Raguel studied Cori, angling his head. “You weren’t born a sensor, but you are very nearly one now. How did such a thing occur?”

  “It’s only been a couple of months.” Bartol explained how his mate had ingested Melena’s blood and what that had done to Cori. It was a rather complicated story under the best of circumstances, but the archangel took it in stride.

  “I’ve never heard of such an occurrence,” Raguel replied after Bartol finished.

  Melena walked up to them. “So, uh, I hate to break up the reunion, but we have a group of SAS soldiers coming in about an hour to get tattoos from Cori.”

  “That soon?” Bartol asked, perplexed. Surely his mate needed more time to get settled after such a long journey.

  The sensor gave him and Cori an apologetic look. “We’ve got less than two days to prepare for battle, so we’re all going to be busy. She’ll have time to get some rest tonight, but these guys need to do their recon today, and we can’t risk Haagenti infecting them with his demons or influence.”

  Bartol frowned. “What is Cori supposed to do?”

  “I’m going to give them tattoos and push immunity to demon possession into the designs,” his mate answered.

  “Are you certain it will work?”

  She shrugged. “We weren’t sure the other kinds of tattoos would work, but they did. It’s worth a shot.”

  “This first group is made up of volunteers, and they know there are no guarantees,” Melena said. “But someone has to test it.”

  Raguel’s gaze focused on Cori, concern showing for her. “You should not push yourself too hard.”

  Bartol frowned, wondering if he was missing something.

  His mate stiffened and cast a nervous glance at Melena before replying. “I’m happy to do whatever it takes to defeat this demon—even if all I can do is protection tattoos while everyone else gets to fight.”

  “Tattoos are more than enough,” Bartol said.

  He was glad his mate’s duties would give her an important role but keep her away from the battlegrounds until the fight was over. Lucas had to face the fact his wife would insist on being there, guns blazing. Melena had proven more than once she had no problems getting her hands bloody in supernatural battles, or even against her own race when necessary.

  “I’ll get set up and be ready in time,” Cori informed the sensor.

  “Great.” Melena handed her bag off to Lucas, who was carrying their things inside. “Because I’ve got to go meet with the task force, and I’ll be gone most of the day. Call me if you need anything, though.”

  “I should be fine, but thanks.”

  They headed into the house where Bartol showed Cori to the solarium at the back. It had natural lighting with tall windows running across three sides and yet stayed warm enough with a space heater in the corner to be comfortable. Plants and flowers dotted the room, and there were chairs and couches for people to sit and enjoy the view to the outside garden. The space was more than generous for what Cori would require.

  A moment later, Kerbasi came in lugging a large plastic box. Bartol froze. He’d forced himself to accept the fact that the guardian volunteered to fight in the coming battle, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see his former torturer any more than necessary.

  “I’ve brought all your tattoo gear,” the guardian said, setting it down near the door.

  Cori narrowed her gaze on him. “You made sure none of it got broken, right?”

  “Of course—I promised I
would guard it with my life.”

  Bartol couldn’t believe Kerbasi was acting subservient to a woman he no doubt considered beneath him. He stared at him confused. “What has possessed you?”

  Clearly, not a demon.

  “Nothing,” the guardian answered, defensive.

  Cori took Bartol’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Kerbasi is trying to make amends for everything he did to you, so he’s pledged to help me in any way I need during this trip. That’s in addition to fighting in the battle.”

  “I find that hard to believe. He doesn’t do anything without it benefiting him in some way.” Bartol glared at the man. “Did Melena threaten you into doing this?”

  Kerbasi puffed out his chest. “No, she did not. I chose to help because I am truly sorry for what I did to you. There are those who say actions speak louder than words…so I am attempting to follow the advice.”

  Bartol still couldn’t believe it. “If you want to do something that will make me happy, get out of here and give me a moment alone with my mate.”

  The guardian sighed and left the room.

  “You cannot trust him,” Bartol said, turning to face Cori.

  “I don’t plan on it, but it doesn’t hurt to see if he’s really trying.”

  Bartol highly doubted it, considering he had decades of memories of that evil man gleefully torturing him in the most painful ways possible, but he’d let it go for now. He reached up and touched his mate’s cheek, finding it as soft as he remembered, but even more ethereal. There was a certain glow about her that he did not recall from before. “You seem…different.”

  “I just missed you is all.” She ducked her head into his chest. “And I’m so glad you’re not running away from me anymore.”

  He pulled her closer and rested his chin on her head. “I have no intention of running.”

  “Does that mean we’re good?” she asked, words muffled by his shirt.

  “I still have to punish you for breaking our agreement, but consider yourself lucky that I missed you enough that it will not be so bad.” In fact, her presence was giving him unexpected strength. He’d heard the mating bond could do that, but now he was finding out for himself. It would only make him that much stronger for the battle that lay ahead.

  Cori took a step back and met his gaze. “I know I’ve screwed up before, and we have a lot of issues we still have to work out, but I want to be with you—forever.”

  Hearing those words meant a lot to him. He considered asking if she’d allow herself to become immortal, but this wasn’t the time. It would drain him to make her that way, and he couldn’t afford the power loss when he’d need every bit of his strength for the coming battle. It was something they could discuss later once they returned home to Alaska.

  “I want you by my side forever as well,” he said.

  Caius entered the room, directing his attention to Cori. “Is there anything you need to finish setting up in here?”

  She ran her gaze around the room, studying it. “It would be nice if I could get a chair like the ones I have at my shop, but I’d settle for a weight bench or barber’s chair if possible.”

  “I’ll have one within the hour,” he promised.

  After the other nephilim left, Bartol helped Cori set up a table with all her ink and other equipment. They cleared a space for the chair and set plastic on the floor. They even managed to procure a stool from another part of the house for her to sit on while she worked. She’d brought all the other supplies she’d need, including power adapters.

  The doorbell rang up front.

  “Think that’s the SAS guys?” she asked.

  “I would assume so. Wait here.”

  Bartol hurried toward the front of the house. Upon opening the door, he found a tall, commanding man in civilian attire standing in front of a group of others lined up behind him. The leader might not have been in uniform, but he and his troops had military written all over their postures. Several more men were coming up the sidewalk, carrying large crates.

  The commander gave Bartol a good once-over. “We’re looking for Cori Marsh and Patrick Jones.”

  He didn’t doubt that the man and his team could put up a good fight against any human threat, but he had no idea how they’d do against vampires, werewolves, witches, and people possessed by demons. It had to take a lot of nerve to even attempt it. But then again, they’d had all year to get used to the idea supernaturals existed. Perhaps they’d already been training for it.

  Patrick, Emily’s father, joined them in the foyer. “I’m here.” He nodded toward the men with the crates. “If you can bring those in, my assistant, Honor, and I can begin working on your ammunition and rifles.”

  That was another step in their plan. If they were going to have human soldiers in the battle, their weapons needed to be effective. The only way to prevent magic from tainting them was to put a small trace of sensor blood on each piece, rendering the arsenal immune. It worked well with inanimate objects, though not as well with actual people. That was where Cori’s special gift came into play with the tattoos.

  The commander waved some of his troops through the door. “These men will stay with you while the tattoo artist works on myself and the others. We’ll switch over later.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Patrick replied. He stood there in his khaki pants and button-up shirt, appearing rather small and gangly against the highly trained men moving past him into the reception room, yet he kept his head held high. Keeping up a brave face was an admirable trait, and one Emily must have inherited from him.

  “I’ll show you the way to my mate—the artist who will give you the tattoos,” Bartol said, guiding the commander and six of his troops through the house. He wanted to make a point of them knowing she was off limits and only there to assist them through her special designs.

  When he reached the back room, he found Caius had acquired a chair—similar to the one at the shop in Alaska—and was helping Cori set it up. Bartol instructed the SAS troops to take a seat on the couches and chairs near the windows, except the commander, who claimed he would be the first to get a tattoo.

  Cori addressed the leader. “So what kind of tattoo do you want me to give you and your guys?”

  The man lifted a brow. “You don’t have a specific design you prefer to use?”

  She shrugged. “I could put a puppy dog on your bicep and it would work just as well as the Star of David. It’s the power of suggestion I infuse into my work that does the job. The only thing I ask is to keep it small, so I can get through your men quickly.”

  “Something simple?” The commander considered it for a moment. “Would a sword work well enough?”

  “Sure,” Cori agreed. “But if it’s okay, I’ll add a star to the top just to make it a little more unique.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Alright. Just give me a few minutes to sketch it out, and then we can get started.”

  Bartol watched as his mate got to work. She sat at her makeshift worktable, a study of concentration with her paper and pen. He hadn’t had many opportunities to watch her do tattoos closely. There were a few times he’d spent hours at her shop, especially when he was protecting her from her former husband, but he’d stayed at the front to guard the entrance. This was the first time he would be able to watch up close.

  Cori finished the design and revealed it to the commander.

  He nodded his approval. “That will do.”

  “Great, so where do you want the tattoo?” she asked.

  He pulled his shirt sleeve up and pointed at his left forearm. “Here.”

  Cori scooted her stool toward him, cleaning the skin first before setting the outline. Bartol ground his teeth. He had to hold himself back as he watched his mate hover closely to another male. No matter how much he knew it was only work, it wasn’t easy to ignore. He called on all his discipline to stand still and silent.

  Just as Cori’s tattoo machine began to buzz, Raguel entered the room. He came to
stand next to Bartol near the back door that led to the garden. “It is difficult to observe, is it not?”

  “How would you know?”

  The archangel moved his gaze toward Cori, observing her for a moment. “I could not stand any man near your mother. What I felt was not all that different from your mating bond.”

  Bartol’s mother hadn’t just been a human but also a sensor. It was one of the reasons he’d been one of the few nephilim who wasn't as biased against the race. He’d been raised in a family of them.

  “You miss her a lot, don’t you?” Bartol asked. He was finding the conversation was distracting him, which may have been his father’s purpose.

  “It was not as bad while I was fully unconscious but certainly since they woke me.” He worked his jaw. “Her name was the first word on my lips the moment I arose.”

  “It must have been difficult being taken away from her,” Bartol said, unable to imagine what he’d do if anyone tried to separate him from Cori permanently like that.

  “Very much so, but I knew what would eventually happen after I fell for your mother.” Raguel met his gaze. “And after you came into the world, I had no doubt it was worth it. Perhaps someday you’ll learn that there are painful prices you’ll pay for even a brief bit of happiness in your life.”

  Bartol glanced at Cori, wondering if he’d have met her if he hadn’t gone to Purgatory and been scarred by Kerbasi. He would have likely chosen to live somewhere else, and their paths might never have crossed. The ramifications were a lot to consider. “Will they ever let you see my mother again?”

  Raguel worked his throat. “I doubt it. Though they haven’t said it, I would not be surprised if they put me in stasis again once this is over. It is a gift I am able to see you.”

  The thought of his father being put back down again saddened him, but he had no say in the matter. One thing Bartol knew well was that the angels had their own set of rules. They tended to be set in stone, and there was little room to get around them.