Page 5 of Destined for Shadows
Chapter 3
Cori
A young college guy, who was probably in his freshman year if his baby face was anything to go by, admired the new tattoo Cori had put on his arm. He’d asked for a tribal band around his bicep, so she’d spent a couple of hours inking it on there. It was his first. He’d handled it fairly well, but she could tell near the end he was ready for it to be over.
“This looks kickass,” he said, flashing his arm at her like she hadn’t been the one to put it there. It was always amusing to see the reactions of first timers once she finished.
She gave him a professional smile. “Glad you like it.”
The kid was wide-eyed without a hint of the jadedness she saw in her own gaze or even that of her friends. He still looked at the world through rose-colored lenses, full of hope and curiosity. Cori couldn’t remember if she’d ever been that way. An image of Bartol came to mind, and she wondered what he’d been like at nineteen years old. Whatever youthfulness he might have had was likely knocked away a long time ago, leaving no trace of the boy he’d once been. Did nephilim come out of the womb as young and innocent as humans? Or were they programmed from the start to be rebellious and total jackasses? She didn’t even know if he’d had a parent to raise him, or if someone else had taken up the job.
Cori wrapped a bandage around the tattoo and taped it in place. She’d already cleaned and put ointment on it. “Don’t take this off for a few hours.”
“Yeah, okay.” He climbed out of the chair.
She led him out of her private room in the back and up front to the cash register. Cori’s only other employee, Asher, was still working on his customer at his front booth. A woman had commissioned him to do a full sleeve on her right arm, which was going to take a few sessions with this evening being the first. His tattoo machine buzzed away as he worked on the area around her shoulder. The young woman—probably in her mid-twenties—stared up at the ceiling. She didn’t show any obvious signs of pain, but she’d had a few other tattoos done before and had likely gotten used to it.
Cori gave her own customer a small aftercare kit with instructions in it. “Wash the tattoo with non-scented, anti-bacterial soap several times a day until it’s fully healed.” She pointed at the bottle in the baggie. “Also put a thin layer of this A&D ointment on there each time you clean it.”
“When can I take the bandage off?” he asked.
“An hour or two should be enough. You should clean it again when you do.”
The college guy asked her a few more questions, then left. She checked the waiting area but didn’t find any more people milling about. This was the slowest it had been all day. Cori had appreciated staying busy because it took her mind off the note she’d found at her house. She kept expecting to run into the person who wrote it, but as of yet they hadn’t made an appearance or tried to contact her in any way. Could it have been some sort of prank?
She glanced at her watch and realized it was almost eight o’clock already. Her shop didn’t officially close for another hour, but even if someone came in now, she wouldn’t start anything new. “Hey, Asher,” she called. “Think you can close up for me?”
“No problem!” he yelled from the back.
Since she usually arrived at the shop around eleven in the morning to get ready to open at noon, and he didn’t come in until two in the afternoon, she didn’t feel too bad when she left a little early. Asher was a reliable guy, and he’d never failed to close the place up properly when he left. Still, she took the time to clean up and sanitize her work area before going. He’d handle the rest of the place.
Cori grabbed her purse and keys, then ducked her head into his booth. “See you tomorrow.”
He glanced up, looking at her through shaggy blond hair. “Don’t forget I won’t be in until around four. I’ve got that thing I told you about.”
She’d almost forgotten. Asher had a girlfriend who’d recently discovered she was pregnant, and they were going to her first OBGYN appointment. So far, they both seemed very excited. When Cori had found out about it, she’d considered giving Asher a lecture since he was only twenty-four and hadn’t really settled down yet, but then she realized she couldn’t judge. She had been twenty when she got pregnant and had thought it was the greatest thing in the world. She’d dropped out of college soon after that and married the father of her child just before her daughter was born. It had been a major mistake, but not everyone’s relationships ended in disaster the way hers did. She had to remember that.
“Let me know how it goes,” she said.
“Sure thing.” Asher leaned forward and got back to work on his customer.
Cori headed outside, going toward her truck. She’d recently traded her old, beat-up car that broke down more often than it ran for a somewhat newer Dodge Ram. It was about ten years old, but the previous owner had taken good care of it, so it didn’t give her any troubles. Some of her friends gave her a hard time because she changed vehicles so often. It couldn’t be helped, though. She would have to wait for a while before investing in a brand new vehicle since she had other priorities for now—such as paying her home off early. Business at the tattoo shop was going well enough she just might manage it in a few more years. It would have taken longer than that, but when her father passed away a couple of years ago, he’d left her some money. The inheritance had been just enough to start her shop and put a sizable down payment on her cabin, as well as fix it up.
She drove home, thinking about the steaks she’d set out for dinner and whether to take one over to Bartol. It had been a few days since she’d last visited, so at least she’d given him some space, and she knew he enjoyed anything with beef.
Cori pulled off the highway and started the final trek toward her cabin, passing the nephilim’s place along the way. A soft light shined out from his living room window, but she didn’t see him. The sun had set on the way home, and her headlights barely penetrated the full darkness. She bumped across ruts in the road and swore that once she had more money she’d get the drive paved. Bartol didn’t have to worry about it since he didn’t have a car, and he could flash anywhere he wanted to go. That left it entirely up to her. There used to be a few more homes along the route, but the others had burned down in a forest fire a few years before Cori moved into the area. It was a small miracle the cabins she and Bartol lived in now had been spared.
After parking the truck, she grabbed her purse and got out. The night was quiet and still—more so than usual. She gripped the vehicle door as the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. A flash of movement in the woods caught her eye. She squinted. Clouds covered the moon, making it even darker than usual, and the porch light she always left on didn’t quite penetrate that far.
There—she saw it again.
The distinct shape of a man moving from one tree to another, quiet as a whisper despite the thick underbrush. Her heart rate picked up, and her breathing quickened. There was no reason for anyone to be lurking in the woods near her home.
Keeping her gaze on the trees, she lowered her hand into her purse where she’d put a loaded .44 Magnum revolver before leaving for work this morning. Cori didn’t carry a gun often, though she owned several and practiced with each regularly, but the threatening note from a few days ago had triggered her paranoia. Right after she’d read the letter, she’d gone straight to the cedar chest in her bedroom and pulled out her father’s old revolver from beneath a pile of blankets, trusting the weapon to protect her if she needed it.
Usually, she went with her H&K .45, but if she was going to be haunted by her past, she wanted her dad’s weapon. He was the one who gave her the courage to leave her ex in the first place, and he’d been there to pick her up when everything fell apart after that. It was a piece of him that gave her strength to fight back against whoever was coming for her now.
“Who’s there?” she asked, her voice coming out uncertain in the still night air.Get a grip, Cori. Showing weakness to a stalker will only give them more confidence.
