by Susan Illene
“I am glad we could finally meet,” he said, meeting Raguel’s golden gaze.
“As am I.”
Cori finished the commander’s tattoo. “All done, though there isn’t a way to test this.”
“We are aware of that.” The man got out of his chair. “But you came highly recommended, so we will take our chances.”
“Who recommended me?” she asked.
“It was, uh, the archangel Remiel. I didn’t believe who he said he was at first, but he more than proved himself to my men and me.”
“How so?”
The commander glanced at Bartol and Raguel, almost as if he knew what they were as well. The man was rather astute, which was likely a requirement of the job. “Let us just say a few of my troops had family members with illnesses that could not be cured—diabetes, cancer, and a case of infertility. They are all better now.”
“He also let us see his wings,” one of the SAS soldiers said. “They were brilliant.”
The troops had been so quiet, Bartol almost forgot about them.
Surprise filled Cori’s features. “I guess he’s trying to improve angel-human relations because that’s really rare.”
Bartol agreed. Archangels never performed miracles where the recipients could remember them, and they hardly ever revealed their wings while on Earth. Even when they did, it wasn’t to humans. Raguel hadn’t shown his once since he arrived, keeping them invisible and hidden.
“His efforts worked, and we became believers,” the commander said, then pointed at one of his men. “That one is your next customer.”
The men exchanged places with the new guy sitting in the chair.
“Give me a few minutes.” Cori set to work cleaning her equipment and prepping the outline. After she was ready, she glanced at the guy. “Do you want the tattoo in the same place?”
“Can I get it on the bicep instead?” he asked, turning his gaze to his commander.
“That’s fine.”
She started to work once more. Bartol stayed to watch as she put tattoos on each man, only leaving his mate twice to bring her a snack or something to drink, though she also took breaks to use the bathroom quite a few times.
It was past dark when Cori finished the second round of troops who’d stayed with Patrick to take care of the weaponry. Before the team left, Bartol, Raguel, and Lucas compelled the SAS troops to forget Cori’s name and what she looked like. The last thing they needed was for word to spread of her abilities and for her to be hounded back in Alaska. She’d never know a moment’s peace should supernaturals or humans find out about her unique talents. There might never be another like her. The troops would remember getting the tattoos by a woman, and what the designs were meant for, but no other specific details. Lucas also promised to make certain all record of her being in Britain was erased.
His mate had lines of exhaustion around her face after the day ended that concerned him. He hated that she had to work so hard after a long and arduous trip across the world, but he admired the fact she never complained once.
“Come,” he said after she had a light dinner. “You should get some sleep.”
“Will you stay with me?” she asked.
“For a few minutes, but I must meet my father again soon for more training.” He guided her up two sets of stairs to the top floor, keeping a hand on her arm since she seemed a little unsteady on her feet.
She didn’t answer him right away, waiting until they reached their room. “I’ll try to stay on my side of the bed if you do join me later.”
“We’ll see.” Bartol didn’t have the heart to tell her he wasn’t ready for that, and he’d likely sleep on the floor. It was enough for him to be close to her for now.
Cori used the en suite bathroom to change into pajama pants and a tank top.
As soon as she came out, she crawled under the blankets and yawned. “I can’t believe how tired I am.”
“Then you should rest.”
He sat on the other side of the bed and watched her as she closed her eyes. Within minutes, she was breathing deeply and fast asleep. Bartol had suspected she wouldn’t remain awake long. Unable to help himself, he reached over and played with a strand of her wavy black hair. It was silky and smooth to the touch. Would there ever come a day when he could be fully relaxed with his mate, and they could touch and hold each other without reservation? He hoped so.
Chapter 28
Bartol
In just two hours, they’d attack the demon’s warehouse. The battle was set to take place at noon when Haagenti and his followers would be at their weakest, especially his numerous vampire minions. The London authorities were quietly moving people out of the area, scouts were already in place keeping watch, and assault teams—both human and supernatural—were going over their final mission plans. Bartol already knew what he had to do, so he stayed with his mate for the time being. He was finding it exceedingly difficult to leave her side.
He observed from the corner of the room as she tattooed one of her final customers. The protections she’d given the initial SAS team had worked as well as they’d hoped. Patrick had gone with them and found gateways near the warehouse where demons from Hell could enter a human’s body if they should cross the invisible threshold—except those with the special tattoos. It was a frustrating loophole in the angel-demon contract. Unfortunately, the gateways couldn’t be shut down without alerting Haagenti to the team’s presence, but the sensor noted them all so that Melena could shut them down during the battle. Patrick would be too busy dealing with the Gregorian stones.
Since finding out about the tattoos’ success, dozens more soldiers, police, and authorities had come by the house over the last two days. The designs varied with each person and their profession, but they all had a star at the top to signify Cori’s special mark. More supplies and ink also had to be brought in to keep up with the load. Bartol and the others rotated compelling people to forget the details about Cori so that once they left London, no one would be able to track her down. Not once did his mate complain during her heavy load of work, though she did require frequent breaks. He also noted she was pale and exhausted by the end of each day. It concerned him, but she insisted she was fine. At least she’d be reimbursed for all her hard work.
On the day before the battle, when Bartol had hoped she could have rested, the local supernaturals who’d be participating in the fight requested their own tattoos. Most of the sups Haagenti had appropriated so far were weaker and easier to influence, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t affect the older and more powerful. They’d thought it would be worth their while to get their own version of protection in the hope it would be just as effective as the ones on humans. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t be able to test whether or not her newest design worked until the battle, but it made everyone feel better since all her other tattoos had worked so far.
“Okay, done,” Cori said, wiping her brow.
She’d just finished with a werewolf who would be guarding one of the sensor volunteers from Europe. They’d been lucky to get a handful of them in addition to the two who’d come with them from America, Patrick and Honor. It would speed up the process of taking out the stones, which they’d counted to be at least a dozen.
Lucas came into the room, pushing Kerbasi in front of him. “This is your final customer.”
“I told you I do not need a tattoo.” The guardian stumbled and swung around to face the nephilim. “I’m old and powerful enough that a demon can’t possibly influence me!”
Lucas pulled up his shirt sleeve, revealing a fresh tattoo with a flaming sword and star on his forearm. “We aren’t taking any chances—not even me.”
Kerbasi pointed at Bartol. “He does not have one.”
“He has the ability to kill the demon, which you do not,” Lucas argued.
The guardian crossed his arms. “If the demon could influence me then he would have done so with Caius when he was captured.”
“Not necessarily,” the nep
hilim in question said, joining the conversation. “He wanted Bartol and me so that he could drain our powers. There wasn’t a reason to influence my mind when he was going to keep me unconscious and locked in a cave. I’ve got a protection tattoo now as well.” Caius turned his arm to reveal his mate’s name etched into his bicep with a star up top. He’d told them that this way Willa could continue to watch over him.
Bartol almost wanted Kerbasi to win the argument. He didn’t like the idea of his mate working on the guardian, but at the same time, he also didn’t want to risk such a powerful being getting turned against them during the battle. If Cori could prevent that from happening, then he had to push down his reservations and allow the work to be done. The greater good took priority.
“Sit,” Bartol ordered, glaring at Kerbasi. “And get the damn tattoo, or else you are only proving that you’re not fully committed to this.”
“Wow, he’s serious.” Cori smiled, perking up a little. “Bartol doesn’t use ‘damn’ very often.”
He shook his head at his mate. She enjoyed making light of him for refraining from foul language in front of her even though she had no trouble speaking how she wished. But if there was one lesson Bartol had learned from his departed mother, it was to avoid poor language in front of a woman. His mom had so little time to impart lessons on him during his childhood that he took the few she had given him seriously.
Kerbasi wavered. “If I do this, I hope you recognize the sacrifice I’m making. This is permanent!”
“It won’t make us friends—not even close—but it will keep me from stuffing you in an active volcano after this is over,” Bartol replied.
The guardian stared at him for a moment, an almost hopeless expression on his face, before settling into the chair. He gazed imploringly at Cori. “Try to be gentle.”
She gave him an evil grin. “Oh, you’ve got no idea how long I’ve waited to stab needles into you. This is going to be so much fun.”
Kerbasi started to rocket out of his seat, but Bartol and Lucas rushed forward to push him back down, holding him by his shoulders.
Caius stood at his feet, grasping his ankles. “It’s too late now, big boy.”
The guardian clenched his eyes shut and started murmuring prayers of deliverance. Something told Bartol that God wouldn’t be answering them.
It took a few minutes for Cori to clean her work area from the last customer and come up with a design for Kerbasi. She settled on giving him a grim reaper scythe with a star above it.
“Why that design?” Lucas asked.
“I’ve always thought of the grim reaper as a dark figure with no remorse for the work he does. Kerbasi fits that, even if he says otherwise. Doing the full figure with a cloak would take too long, but the scythe can symbolize the idea,” she explained.
Lucas nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”
“Does no one care what I think?” Kerbasi asked, stopping his murmured prayers and opening his eyes.
“No!” they all answered.
The guardian mumbled more complaints before settling down as Cori began working on him. He winced when the needles first struck, but to his credit, he didn’t make any squeals of pain. The man had his pride, and with a large audience watching him, he wasn’t going to keep the fuss up any longer. He knew he’d fought the battle and lost.
Bartol continued to hover protectively over his mate even after the others let go of the guardian. Though he doubted Kerbasi would try anything, it still made him feel better. Only fifteen minutes passed before Cori completed her work. She’d been getting faster over the last few days, which he suspected was assisted by the physical changes from Melena’s blood. His mate could still get tired, but she was far more resilient than before.
As Cori cleaned Kerbasi’s forearm of any traces of blood, Melena rushed into the room. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What?” Lucas asked, going to his mate.
“The River Thames just turned to blood ten minutes ago, and radars are picking up swarms of locusts heading straight for London from the south,” she said, breathless. “We’re out of time. The other teams are gearing up and heading out now.”
Caius’ expression took on a dark look. “Are the scouts still reporting the demon at the warehouse?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “But they suspect our activities to evacuate the area have been discovered. We have no idea if they’ll stay or move, so we have to strike as soon as possible.”
“Then we must go,” Lucas said.
Everyone exploded into activity.
Cori let the guardian up from the chair and moved to hug Bartol. His initial instinct was to balk at her touch, but he fought it down and embraced her instead. Until the battle was over, they would have to be apart. He didn’t like the idea of her being out of his sight and wished he didn’t have to leave.
“Be careful,” she said.
He kissed her gently on the forehead, then stared into her hazel eyes. “I would ask the same of you.”
“She will have my protection,” Ariel said, coming into the room.
Micah followed closely behind. “And I will be here to guard her as well.”
Bartol turned, directing his attention to the fallen angel. “Will you start the protection spell on her now?”
“Of course.” Ariel lifted her chin, showing some of the old pride she once had before falling. “Nothing will hurt your mate if I can help it.”
“She will be in good hands,” Micah promised
Bartol was honored the two of them would go through so much trouble for his mate. “Thank you.”
“You should go,” Ariel said, urgency in her tone. “Little time is left before it will be too difficult to reach the warehouse.”
Bartol swept Cori into his arms once more, holding her tightly. She did the same to him, pressing her face into his chest. He wanted more than anything to stay right there and never leave, but the best way to protect her was to destroy Haagenti.
“I will see you again soon,” he promised, moving away.
She put her hands on her hips. “You better!”
With a final farewell, Bartol hurried from the room and joined the others as they exited the house toward the waiting vehicles. They couldn’t risk flashing or exerting any extra energy if at all possible. Their powers had to be conserved for the coming battle.
The expected drive time to Purfleet—where the demon’s warehouse was located—was about thirty-five minutes. They drove well past the posted speed limit, but a little over halfway there, the locusts began to catch up with them from the west. The first few hit the back window, startling them. Lucas was driving the lead SUV they rode in, and he picked up the pace. Many of the human drivers ahead of them began pulling off the road as visibility diminished, clearing the way. It helped a little, but the road became slick with squashed bugs.
Before long, the windshield wipers were working overtime to keep up with the locusts striking the glass. Bartol recognized the area as they neared Purfleet. It had turned dark outside as the swarm blocked the sky above them, but he could make out the warehouse easily enough—not a single bug came close to it. Haagenti was ravaging the rest of the area with his tricks while keeping his own base of operations safe.
They pulled into an area pre-designated for task force parking. Already, troops were gathering, police were starting to cordon off the nearby streets, and tents were being set up for team commanders. The sensors gathered in the center with Kerbasi and the other protectors standing near them. While the guardian could only use his range abilities, the other supernaturals would stay close to their charges. Werewolves and witches made up the bulk of them since it was daylight—or at least it had been—and vampires hadn’t been an option. Now Bartol wondered if the locusts weren’t only being used to terrorize the London area, but also to block the sun and allow Haagenti’s night bound followers out. The darkness was near complete, triggering the streetlights to come on.
“Dammit,” Melena cursed as she stared up
at the sky. “We were going to blow the roof off the warehouse to take out the vampires with sunlight, but that won’t work now. They can’t even get any helicopters off the ground in this mess for air support.”
The ceiling for the locusts was no more than two hundred feet above them, but the annoying bugs moved much closer to the ground in the outlying areas beyond the warehouse.
“Are there other weapons the humans can use?” Bartol asked.
Melena glanced at the SAS troops over to their right. “Yes, but they won’t be as effective.”
She headed over to speak with the military commander, leaving them. Activity continued to buzz around them over the next twenty minutes while Bartol stood with his father waiting. There was little they could do until the Gregorian stones were nullified. Both of them stood impatient and ready to do battle.
Several explosions went off in the direction of the warehouse, startling them.
From the conversations coming from the command tents, that had been the first strike from their side. The sensors were moving in for the first stage while the demon and his followers were distracted. Smoke plumed upward from large holes left in the building, but Bartol couldn’t make out much of the place from his vantage point.
In silent agreement, he and Raguel moved as close as they dared down the street to get a better look. They spotted two of the sensors moving through large holes cut in the security fence. One of them was Patrick and the other Honor. Several more sensors came within view on the sides of the warehouse, their circle of defenders with them.
The demon’s minions were rushing forward, but as they moved, some of them fell. They were being picked off by human snipers. For Haagenti’s other followers, Kerbasi stunned as many as he could with shots of lightning from his extended hands. The werewolves protecting the sensors took advantage of the gaps and guided their charges through them. A few times they had to stop and fight, but even in human form, they were fierce—the strongest pack members the local master had to offer. They took down the possessed humans and followers in a matter of moments, then moved forward.
