Page 68 of Destined for Shadows
Chapter 20
Bartol
The forest was dark and alive with nocturnal creatures when he flashed into it. Bartol caught the sounds of scurrying creatures, hooting owls, and carnivores stepping lightly through the brush as they hunted for their next meal. Their eyes appeared to glow whenever the moon’s faint illumination broke through the trees and caught them just right. None of them could see him, but a few of the more sensitive animals fled if he got too close. Some inner sense warned them there was a predator nearby, though he meant them no harm. He searched for a different kind of prey—one with fangs.
He followed his usual circuit through the trees, invisible and alone. Somewhere to the south of him, Cori slept in her cabin, tossing and turning. He knew because he’d checked on her before coming out for his patrol. A part of him wanted to crawl into the bed and hold her until she stilled. The other part knew he could never handle such a simple gesture.
It was only two nights ago he’d broken down and kissed her. For a few minutes, it had only been him and her with no violent memories to ruin it. He’d touched her and enjoyed her until he ached with need and wanted to bury himself inside of her. Bartol suspected he’d managed it that long because he’d kept Cori bound within his grasp. It had given him the control he needed. If she’d touched him with passion, it wouldn’t have lasted two seconds. But then she’d called his name, more than once as he recalled, and pulled him out of his comfortable haze. Suddenly, her body burned like poison against him, and her face distorted into one of the monsters from his nightmares in Purgatory. He couldn’t see anything else.
It wasn’t her fault, and he knew that. Bartol had described the physical tortures he’d endured to Cori but not the psychological ones. He’d witnessed the horror in her features after hearing that much and didn’t think he could bear telling her the rest.
Perhaps, despite everything, he’d hoped that one day she’d be the person who could rescue him from the prison where he was still trapped in his mind. She had the potential. Every bit of progress he’d made in recent weeks had been because of her and no one else. But if she knew the truth, would she give up on him? Would she walk away thinking he was beyond saving? He’d asked himself that question a dozen times in recent days but still didn’t have an answer. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to subject her to a man like him.
Cori likely thought he was avoiding her, and she wouldn’t be wrong. Though Bartol saw her regularly throughout the day, he kept himself invisible to her. He was ashamed of the way he’d reacted the other night and afraid of how she’d look at him now. She must have figured out there was more to his story. The truth of her awareness had been in her gaze the night he’d panicked from their kiss right before he’d ordered her to go inside. Self-recrimination had been the most obvious emotion in her features, which could have only come if she’d realized how much more there was to his torture. He was broken. Why would any woman want to put up with a man they’d have to spend years putting back together with no guarantee he would ever become whole again? She’d already said she wasn’t looking for commitment, which was what it would take to be with him. Their pasts made he and Cori quite the tangled pair.
Light tendrils of smoke drifted Bartol’s way, and he froze in place.
Where was it coming from? He followed the scent, stepping lightly through the forest. He’d gone farther than intended while deep in thought and had lost all sense of his whereabouts. It took a few minutes, but he finally got his bearings.
The smoke was coming from the direction of the cabins.
Bartol flashed into Cori’s yard where a man was peeling away in a silver car. Flames licked at the west wall where the kitchen and living room were located. He used his flashing vision to check inside, relieved to find Cori already running out of her room with a large bag in her hands and nearly to the door. There was no fire in her path.
Trusting she could get herself out, he went after the arsonist. The car was almost to the highway when Bartol flashed in front of it. He put his hands out and caught the bumper, forcing the vehicle to smash into his palms as if he were a brick wall. The rear end flipped upward, and he used all his strength to bring it slamming back down. Glass shattered from the windows, and the tires popped like balloons. The human inside would likely be injured, but Bartol would do everything within his power to keep the man alive for questioning. After the vehicle sat back down on its wheels, he moved around to the driver’s side door and ripped it off. It landed some distance away in the woods.
The human, a balding man in his fifties, was shaking and crying. “I swear. I don’t know why I set that fire, or…or why I have to get away from you. He…he just told me what I had to do.”
Bartol noted blood on the human’s arms and neck, likely from the glass, but he didn’t see anything life threatening. He peered deep into the man’s eyes. “Tend to your wounds if you must, but do not leave this car. I am the only one you will obey now.”
After he was certain the human understood and the compulsion would hold him, Bartol flashed back to Cori at her cabin. He found her dumping items into a pile on her lawn, including a lumpy duffel bag, a laptop, picture frames, and a revolver. She must have made at least two trips to have that many personal possessions out of harm’s way. Standing there barefoot in nothing except a pair of flannel pants and a camisole, she looked like she was planning a third run inside. The only thing that slowed her down was that she had to stop midway and cough heavily from the smoke inhalation. Bartol ran his gaze to the cabin and found the flames had spread toward the living room. They would engulf the whole place in a few minutes.
Left with no choice, he grabbed her and flashed her farther back. “It’s too late. You cannot go in there again.”
“I have to.” She coughed. “My daughter’s portraits are still in there!”
He stared into her face, smudged with soot and ash. The desperation in her eyes told him she’d die before losing those portraits. “I’ll get them,” he promised.
“But…”
“Stay here,” he commanded, lacing as much compulsion into his voice as he had time to manage. It probably wouldn’t be enough with her resistance, but he had to try for her safety.
Bartol flashed into the cabin, going straight for the spare bedroom at the front corner of the place where the fire hadn’t reached yet. A glance toward Cori’s room showed it was already in flames. The smoke was thick, but he could go long periods without breathing before it weakened him. Holding his breath certainly wouldn’t kill him, anyway. It was the heat and ash that bothered him the most, making his eyes water.
He jerked the closet door open. The heat wasn’t as bad in there yet. If the paintings were taken out quickly, they wouldn’t suffer more than a little smoke damage. He grabbed all of the ones of Cori’s daughter, plus a few others, and flashed outside.
She took them from him with tears of relief in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“I must put the fire out now, but it’s going to take a while with the flames as high as they are.” He flicked his gaze toward the cabin, knowing it would be a loss but not wanting the fire to reach the woods and spread. “Do you have your cell phone?”
Cori nodded. “It was one of the first things I grabbed.”
“Good. Call Melena and tell her what is going on. Also, tell her I captured the arsonist up the road by my place, and I’ve compelled him to stay in his car for now. We’ll need to question him.”
“Got it,” she said, and gestured at the fire. “Now go handle that.”
Bartol flashed closer to the cabin and drew from his powers. The ability to control fire came from deep within his gut, twisting his stomach as he brought forth the extinguishing effect and sent it through his hands. Holding his palms out, he focused on the flames closest to him and willed them to die down. It took all of his concentration to bank the fire at the front of the cabin and keep it extinguished while moving toward the back of the place.
He recalled a time when such a job wouldn’t have taken him more than a few minutes, but he hadn’t done anything like this in a long time. Forest fires were one thing because they had certain patterns he could predict. Human homes were far more difficult, and more so in this day and age. The electrical lines, flammable materials, and the way a house was constructed could all affect how the fire burned. Sweat beaded his forehead as he worked little by little to dampen the flames, steadily revealing a cabin beyond repair. What had that human man used to start such a conflagration? He must have brought some sort of accelerant.
