Page 17 of Destined for Shadows
Chapter 6
Bartol
The scent of barbecue smoke wafted down the road—coming from Cori’s place. Bartol set the last of the logs he’d finished chopping on top of a pile next to his house and turned to glare in a northerly direction. It was Sunday—the human female’s day off—and she’d chosen to spend it driving him mad with the tantalizing aroma of grilled meat. Bartol knew damn well the woman had done it on purpose and had likely prepared enough for the both of them. It was her way of beckoning him without having to show her face to do it.
It hadn’t worked the last time she’d tried it, but he was sorely tempted today. First, because he was hungry and the food smelled good. Second, because he had a few things to say to her since discovering she was hiding details from him about the man who’d tried to attack her. Bartol was the only person who could keep Cori safe when she was at home. If he had to put up with her constant meddling, she could very well put up with his.
He flashed inside his cabin, washed his face and hands, and changed into blue jeans and a black t-shirt. His brown hair was a disorderly mess and could use a good combing, but he left it alone. Bartol didn’t want to appear too well groomed, or it might give Cori the wrong impression. He certainly didn’t want to encourage her.
Gathering his powers, he relocated to her front lawn. He found her sitting in a white plastic chair next to the grill with her legs sprawled out, drinking from a beer bottle. Cori had dressed casually in a red tank top, black jeans, and a pair of leather boots. Her dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail that brought attention to her prominent cheekbones and sharp hazel eyes. It annoyed him. No human woman should appeal to him as much as she did.
She lifted her gaze to his and gave him a knowing grin. “I was wondering if you might stop by this evening.”
“You did not wonder,” he growled. “You hoped.”
Cori shrugged. “Whatever.”
“When will the food be ready?”
“Soon.” She reached for a red and white ice chest next to her and pulled a beer from it, holding the bottle out to him. “Sit and drink with me while we wait.”
Bartol worked his jaw, noting she’d set out a second chair just for him. There was no way he could possibly sit with her and drink a weak beverage while attempting to act as if they were friends. “I will return when the food is done.”
“Is it the beer?” she asked, frowning at the bottle. Before he could reply, she returned it to the ice chest and pulled a flask from next to her chair. “Maybe you’d prefer this?”
Curiosity got the better of him and Bartol grabbed it, unscrewing the lid to sniff at the contents. The toxic scent of the drink assailed his senses as if he’d inhaled fire. It wasdishevna, a specially brewed alcohol for immortals that didn’t taste all that wonderful, but it could get them drunk. There were numerous variations of the drink out there since it was always home brewed like moonshine, but based on the scent of this one, it came from the master vampire in Juneau, Alaska—Nikolas.
“How did you get this?” Bartol asked.
Cori took a slug of her beer, pretending indifference. “Melena gave it to me when I was over at her house the other day.”
“Drinking straight from this flask would kill you.” The liquid was pure and possibly strong enough to knock out a nephilim for a few hours if he consumed the whole container. It was made that way so that it could be mixed with other beverages or get someone drunk very fast if they preferred.
“It isn’t for me,” she said, gazing up at him with innocent eyes.
“You planned this.”
She snorted. “It isn’t the first time I’ve tried to draw you here, but you’ve never taken the bait before.”
“You’re damn right I haven’t. What is it you want from me?”
Cori set her beer down on the ice chest. “For you to sit here for one meal and have an actual conversation with me. Is that too much to ask?”
There was a time when it wouldn’t have been, but these days were different. Every moment he stood there made him feel that much more uncomfortable. She was too human and normal for someone like him. “I have better things I could be doing right now.”
“Like what? Organizing your shoes by size and color?”
His lips almost twitched—almost. “I only have two pairs, so that wouldn’t take long.”
“Then what?”
“My floors could use a fresh coat of wax,” he lied. “And my gutters need cleaning.” That second part was true and something he’d planned to do before he’d caught the scent of her barbecue cooking.
She leaned forward in her seat, a gleam in her eyes. “Can I watch you clean them?”
“Perhaps.” He crossed his arms, knowing what she implied and choosing to play along in his own way. “If you tell me about the man who threatened you the other night. How you know him, and the reason he came after you.”
Her gaze turned icy. “No.”
