Page 17 of Destined for Eternity
Ariel made a tsking sound. “When was the world ever a fair place? Do you really think Heaven is going to offer a better deal than this? The rest of the nerou will be enforcers until they’re old and near death. Bartol’s child will only have a century. I’d say you want him to accept this so your future children don’t have a life of servitude.”
“She’s right.” Lucas ran a hand through his hair. “As much as I hate to admit it.”
“Perhaps we could find a way to trap Jeriel and keep him from ever taking Bartol’s child,” Kerbasi suggested.
“Do you plan to lead the way on that?” Melena asked.
“If it would redeem me in his eyes…” He trailed off when Bartol just shot him a dirty look. “Anyway, I like children. If this would help me gain the title of Patron Saint of Children, it would be worth the effort.”
Ariel sighed. “That job is already taken.”
“Well, that person is not doing a very good job of it if the nerou are any example…obviously.”
“Jeriel would kill you, guardian. You’re not strong enough to take on an archangel, and you know it.” Lucas gave him a pitying look. “Even I can take you.”
Kerbasi set his jaw in a stubborn line. “I would have suggested we work together.”
Bartol already knew what he had to do, even if he didn’t like it and hated to break the news to Cori. He couldn’t risk his friends getting killed for his child. Ariel had a point that he was getting a far better deal than any nephilim before him.
“I’m going to accept,” he announced, dropping his napkin over his plate.
Melena’s shoulders slumped. “Cori is going to kill you.”
“I’ll explain it to her.”
“Good luck making a pregnant woman understand why her child is going to become an indentured servant for a hundred years,” Micah said, shaking his head. “I don’t envy you that conversation.”
Bartol took his empty plate to the sink and rinsed it off. “If you don’t hear from me for a few days, assume I’m dead.”
“We’ll hold a funeral service for you—a nice one,” Melena said, giving him a sympathetic look.
Kerbasi perked up. “And I’ll sing something lovely.”
“Don’t,” Micah said, abject horror crossing his face. “Your singing voice is bad enough to raise the dead and make them zombies.”
“I resent that!”
Bartol left them to it and headed out of the house. Melena had protections around her home to prevent magic use, so he had to go outside before he could flash away. He’d never dreaded seeing Cori more than he did now.
