Page 98 of Destined for Dreams
Bartol and Caius headed in the opposite direction, taking note of the boundary and how far it covered. Their search was slow going because it was even broader than expected and more often than not, they got sucked into the power drain.
“If we’ve got to attack this place,” Caius said, out of breath as he stepped back from the Gregorian stone’s reach for the fifth time. “It is going to require a large force.”
“Agreed. I’ve counted at least thirty of the demon’s followers so far.” Bartol frowned in the direction of the warehouse, which they couldn’t see from their current vantage point behind other buildings. He’d been noting the patrols and the guards along the way.
“There’s likely more that we can’t see.”
Bartol didn’t doubt it. “The sensors will have to do a scouting mission before the attack so that we can get a precise number.”
One thing he had learned, if one had sensors on their side, they had an advantage. Sensors were built for reconnaissance, and it came in handy that neither magic nor demon essence could touch them. It was too bad their race had mostly been at odds with supernaturals over the millennia.
“I fear for what that demon has done to Tormod.” Caius frowned as the warehouse came into view again. “The energy around that place is very dark.”
Bartol was trying very hard not to think about that, but he feared the same. “We’ll deal with it when we must.”
They found Yerik at the other end of the warehouse, nearly at the halfway point from where they started.
“The demon has fortified this place well,” the daimoun said, stopping in front of them. “I found no weaknesses in his security.”
“Neither did we,” Bartol replied.
Caius worked his jaw. “Let’s return to the house and compile our notes. Remiel should be coming soon, and we’ll need to share what we found with him.”
“I don’t see the point in working with that damned archangel,” Yerik growled.
They hadn’t told the daimoun about Bartol’s father yet but only because he never stayed around long enough for them to discuss it. “I think you’ll find there’s a good reason we’ve allied with the archangels this time.”
Yerik grunted. “We’ll see.”
The three of them flashed back to Caius’ house, going straight into the front reception room. To their surprise, they found Remiel and another archangel waiting for them. Bartol found himself staring at a man that didn’t appear that much different from him—except a few inches taller and slightly broader shoulders. They shared the same eyes and golden brown hair, both cut close to the shoulders. The power radiating off of the archangel was significantly greater, though, making him appear almost larger than life.
Remiel gestured toward the man next to him. “This is Raguel, your father.”
Over the last few days, Bartol had tried to think what he might say to the man who’d sired him, but he never could find the right words. He stared at Raguel, finding his father’s eyes intense and ageless. The archangel—even in his weakened state—glowed with sheer power and stood out above everyone else in the room. His gaze ran over Bartol from head to toe before focusing on the burn scars. A flash of anger reflected in his features before he covered it up and his face became an impenetrable mask.
“It is good to see you again, son,” Raguel said, voice deep and commanding.
Bartol took a moment to reply. “Again?”
“I had a month with you and your mother before your birth was discovered, and I was forced to leave,” he explained.
No one had ever told Bartol that before. “I didn’t know.”
Raguel’s features softened a fraction. “You once urinated on me while I was changing your…diaper—I believe that is the current term.”
Of all the things Bartol expected his father to say, he’d never guessed his embarrassing activities as a small child would be one of them. “My apologies.”
Raguel’s lips twitched. “Your mother found it rather humorous.”
“I am certain she did,” Bartol said, vaguely remembering his mother’s laugh. She’d always been full of joy and found happiness in everything.
The archangel glanced over at Remiel. “I will take my son to the back garden so that we might have some time alone.”
“Of course.”
Bartol and his father made their way through the house, using the backdoor near the kitchen to exit. Though the grounds were not overly large, Caius must have hired someone to tend them when he was away because they were well-maintained—even in the winter. Raguel led them over to a bench under the tree, taking a seat and patting the space next to him.
He waited until Bartol was settled before speaking. “I did not think I would ever have the occasion to see you again.”
