“I ca… can’t… this does… doesn’t…” Terran stuttered.
Maya bit her lower lip, stifling a moan. Digging her nails into her arms, she struggled to focus. “He’s fighting it, Flint. And I can’t stay.”
“Terran, go now.” She joined with Flint’s fiery energy wave, and together they compelled Terran to leave and forget.
Terran held strong. His world existed in absolutes. Much was needed to shake his mind that understood the world only through scientific facts. Terran grabbed his head and pulled at his hair as if that would release the compulsive bombardment striving to redirect his reality. His intense concern for her safety fought to break through their gleaning grip.
Maya misted and whispered a plea into his mind, laying a dewy drizzle across his consciousness. “Terran, please let go. Stop fighting.” Wrapping him in fog, she strove to calm him by urging him to forget the latter portion of the evening and directed him home.
Finally, he retreated, not once looking back.
If she had tears to waste, she’d have shed them. She hated altering his beautiful mind. She shifted back to human form and held out her arms to Flint. “Quint still gone?”
“Yes, he’s close, but I don’t believe he’ll come back tonight.”
“Can you look after Terran, please?”
“What’s in it for me, Baby?” Flint chucked her chin.
“If my head didn’t hurt so much, I’d roll my eyes right now. Take me to water, please. And then come back and watch Terran.”
“Always the damsel in distress.” Flint lifted her in his arms and transformed—a flash of gold fire across the night sky.
After traveling for a few minutes, Maya felt a warm breeze drift across her face then Flint abruptly released her. Without his heat, her free-fall through the cool evening air almost turned her into an icicle. She hit the water’s surface with a splash.
Not fighting to resurface, she scrunched into a fetal position and called on the water to heal her. Waves of hydration immersed every pore and she arched in pain. The darkness receded as healing liquid irrigated her body. A soundless energy boom rippled through the water as she freed herself from the clawing grasp of Quint’s nefarious pepper.
When the pain receded, she released all consciousness, like dead weight, she drifted along the bottom. She woke hours later. Her only companions were water-smoothed rocks with green tufts of algae sticking out like mad scientist hair. Lake trout swam past, not registering her existence. Fully healed, she surfaced. Upon getting her bearings, she realized she was floating in the middle of Jackson Lake.
Trust Flint to go big.
Chapter 11
Three women huddled together on the corner. The orange-red glow from their cigarette tips stood out next to pale fingers. Streetlights emitted a hazy glow against the dark. Moths bumped against the glass crowns, seeking the light and heat.
Quint sought heat, as well. Just standing near Terran tonight had done unimaginable things to his body, creating a raw human need. Desire’s greedy claw and the yearning to possess had him wound tight. Tonight verified how close he was to attaining one perfect form to house him forever.
A punishing ache coursed through his body, and he rubbed a palm against his erection, solid since connecting with Terran’s mind. That water whore, Maya, had blocked him. He could have compelled Terran to do many things. So many games they could have played tonight, if she hadn’t interfered.
These thin substitutes standing on the street corner were quite repulsive, but he needed to feed this gluttonous desire surging through his body. These women would take the edge off.
He pulled alongside them in Crowder’s silver Mercedes and rolled down his window. Two brunettes strutted around the car’s front, came alongside the driver’s door, and peered inside. The smell of unfiltered cigarettes, cheap perfume, and sex surrounded them. The third girl, who had remained at the curb, exuded disease and a drug-induced mental bliss.
“Get in.” Quint jerked a thumb toward the backseat.
The girls climbed in the back, but the third girl ignored his command.
He rolled down the passenger window. “Get in.”
She glared from glazed eyes and shook her head.
A defiant one, how promising.
“Get. In.” He struck his dark will against her mind, forcing her acquiescence.
She flicked her cigarette on the concrete and crushed it with her shoe’s red tip before sliding into the passenger seat.
“Do not speak,” he ordered. His bold passenger turned on the radio, and he endured the latest drivel while driving to Crowder’s house. He pulled into the garage and informed them they would shower.
“What are we doing here?” Ms. Defiant hooked her purse over her shoulder.
Quint turned and took in her ratty jeans and red button-down sweater. “I believe I said not to speak. I will, however, allow you to answer one question. What type of mind-altering chemical are you harboring in your bag? Come now, don’t be shy. Didn’t your mother teach you to share?”
She pulled her bag tighter against her chest.
He smiled at the other two. “I just love the rebellious ones.” After wrenching the bag from her grip, he rifled through and found a plastic bag full of needles and ivory nuggets. “Euphoria in a needle. Let’s go.”
He led them into the massive open shower in the master bedroom. He watched as they cleaned themselves under the spray, even encouraged them to play, as they seemed to enjoy one another.
This might do, after all.
Once they were clean, he dove right in, impatient to satisfy his voracious need. He took them each again, and again, wrapped in their flesh, aching to relieve his unrelenting desire in the most human way.
Unable to fulfill his fantasy with Terran, he gorged on the willing women before him. Over and over, he sought to appease his insatiable excitement over his final link to becoming peri-mortal.
Still on edge, he tried a different tack. He bent each brunette over the office desk and entered her from behind. He imagined Terran in their place, and his human body took him to a place of sexual bliss he had never been before.
Yes, this is the answer.
The drugged defiant was the last to take a turn. She shook her head and held up a hand. “I don’t do that.”
His body dripped with sweat. The smell of spent lust filled the air. He grabbed her arm, pulled her closer, and brought down his mouth on hers. He drove his tongue deep and let loose his essence in her body.
Her eyes went wide, and she struggled against him.
He easily contained her feeble attempts to break free. His tongue moved in and out of her mouth until her body shook and turned black. He dropped her on the floor and spit her taste from his mouth.
The other girls gaped with wide eyes and slack mouths as Ms. Defiant disappeared into nothing, and a burst of energy blasted through the room. They screamed, cowered, and held each other close as they kneeled on the floor at his feet.
He silenced them with a slash of his will against their weak minds.
His cell rang. Pillar’s number appeared on the caller ID.
“Get me a drink.” He flicked his hand at the brunette and sat in a chair before Crowder’s desk. “Yes?” he questioned Pillar.
“Aether is willing to meet in Prague, next Tuesday.”
Quint had pegged Neb Aether, a renowned virologist, as Crowder’s replacement. Aether’s respected expertise provided the perfect public face for his drug company. After Quint switched into the scientist’s body, he could go public with his enterprise—Aether Pharmaceuticals. Crowder’s vast worth had served its purpose in preparing the company for new leadership.
“Set it up.” He disconnected.
The brunette stood before him, holding his drink with a shaky hand. The golden liquid threatened to slosh out of the glass.
“I wouldn’t suggest spilling a single drop.” His mood darkened once more as he considered Pillar. Her wayward behavior had become more
frequent of late. Upon her return, he would take special care in reminding her of her loyalties.
For now, he’d punish the whore who stood at his side. He removed the glass from her shaking hand and yanked her arm. “Kneel.”
The smooth burn of forty-year-old Glenfiddich seeped down his throat and heated his belly. He grabbed the brunette by the back of her neck and shoved her face in his lap. With a sharp wave, he beckoned the other girl to join them.
Ethan appeared in the doorway. “What’s with all the noise in here?” He blinked against the glare of bright light in the room.
A shell of his former self, Ethan’s cheeks were hollow, his skin pale, and his eyes bulged out of their sockets. His sweatpants hung off his emaciated body.
Quint raised his glass in greeting and smirked as the boy stared in shock at his naked father.
Ethan met Quint’s gaze and shivered visibly.
The stench of death exuded off Ethan’s body. Poor child had squandered his life in vice and yet, when given the ability to truly transgress he couldn’t contain it.
Quint placed a hand on the top of the brunette’s head and waved Ethan over. “Care to join us?”
Chapter 12
Maya plucked apart a pinecone and kicked another down the sidewalk. On the way to her night job, she no longer detected the energy patterns of either Flint or Nodin.
She was alone—again.
She stomped the pinecone under her heel.
Very aware her behavior was like a toddler in a snit, she couldn’t overcome her frustration. It grew tiresome, constantly waiting for her Elemental partners to return. Didn’t they know they had work to do?
Recon at Crowder’s Ranch to determine Quint’s schemes should be their top priority, along with figuring out why Crowder’s body was Quint’s host du jour. Was Quint behind the spread of BSE in the area? Not a far stretch to assume he was the creator of this brand of chaos.
Heated from the afternoon sun, the silver handle on the heavy metal back door of Mo-swa’s bar warmed her palm. She paused a moment, and deeply inhaled the fresh, pine-scented air, before entering the smoky saloon.
After working at the library earlier, she’d taken a scenic bike ride. Soaking up the sun and nature, she’d found a modicum of peace as summer breezes rippled across her face. The noble faces of the Tetons peered down their noses at her insignificant meanderings.
Three days had passed while Maya healed in Jackson Lake. Last night, she misted through Terran’s open window and hovered over his bed as he slept. Agreeably creepy and a scene straight out of a horror movie, but she was now assured of his well-being.
He had fallen asleep with his glasses still perched on his nose. A report with some scientific gibberish laid in disorder across his chest. A light mat of brown hair sprinkled over his well-toned body and narrowed to a V that led to a bedspread-covered area calling on her strong sense of curiosity. She refrained. Better to allow him the honor of unveiling.
As she pushed open Mo-swa’s door, she paused at the threshold as her eyes adjusted to the poorly lit bar that was in intense contrast to the bright sunshine outside. Familiar smells of popcorn and cigarettes filled the air. Her shoe soles ground against empty peanut shells with each step across the sticky tile floor—time to prepare for the night shift. Her boss was never one for mundane chores like mopping the floor. She shook her head at the thought of what the bathrooms would look like. Even water-girls felt dirty after a foray into the latrine following a busy night.
She and the owner, Moose, had an agreement. She agreed to work weekends and various days of the week. He agreed to let her. Her earnings came through tips. Cash was the best arrangement for her off-the-grid lifestyle. Occasionally, he played the trickster by slipping her extra funds with the ridiculous story people had left him tips intended for her.
His nickname—Moose was well suited. At six foot six, he was rangy, with a solitary, taciturn disposition, and he constantly chewed on toothpicks, gum, or the bar’s tiny plastic swords. Glass bottles lined the bar shelves behind him, and the requisite glass mirror offered a glimpse of his black silver-streaked hair, which was twisted in a long braid.
He nodded in greeting as she swiped two empty glasses off a table on her way to the u-shaped oak bar. The wooden relic was layered in shellac, whiskey, and secrets revealed across the grain. The perfect frame for Moose’s Indian ancestry, which was evident in his square jaw, sun-touched skin, and eyes so dark they appeared black.
Maya lifted the damp wood pass-thru and stepped behind the bar. She tied on her apron and grabbed her tray.
“Is all well?” Moose said, working a toothpick in his mouth.
She shrugged then grabbed a glass from a rack above the bar, filled it with water, and added a twist of lemon. Grabbing a straw, she stirred the mixture and took a long drink. “Sorry about missing the past couple nights.” She offered a half smile.
Moose shook his head. “I’ve told you not to apologize.”
After giving him a quick hug, she got to work. The tables required a serious wipe down. The floor needed a proper hosing by the local fire department, but she made do with steaming hot water and bleach.
Where are my plastic gloves?
Her sunny yellow mitts were crucial pieces of equipment for bathroom decontamination. These menial tasks occupied her time and mind. Regulars would soon drift in, and others would stop by for happy hour with co-workers. Tourists crossed the threshold attracted by the flashing neon beer lights and the chance to experience another western adventure in a city surrounded by the woodlands of Grand Teton National Park.
“Gonna be a busy one tonight, I’d imagine.” Moose’s rough baritone broke into her reverie.
“How so?” Maya leaned against the mop handle, raising a brow when he walked across her newly scrubbed floor.
He looked down, flashed a sheepish grin, and sat on a nearby stool while she continued her monotonous swiping.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Moose followed her movements, and then announced, “Ethan Crowder died.”
As she turned to face him, she jumped when her mop clattered to the floor. “What? When?”
“About two days ago. I imagine after the funeral people will be milling about the place, gossiping about how it happened.”
“How did it happen?”
And how did I miss this?
“Real strange. Ethan got sick and sort of folded in on himself. A nurse I know said they could hear him screaming at night about the darkness. Said he was twitching and jerking around in his bed. Maybe a bad batch of drugs.” He shrugged and fiddled with the beer-stained table tent. “His funeral is tonight, up the road at Basin's.”
Darkness, screaming, twitching all added up to one thing—Quint. Even though Ethan lived his life as a bad egg, he hadn’t deserved Quint’s push off the wall. Her efforts to save him after his dealings with the girl at the strip club had failed.
Ethan’s death added one more life that foul-black stain, Quint could mark on his ever-increasing list of lives taken. Quint’s escalating actions gave viability to the necessity of Terran’s transformation into Earthman. Everything hinged on using his knowledge to discover a way of transferring Quint’s essence into another form. Quint’s blight on humanity had gone on far too long. Their Elemental team needed more firepower. If Terran were forced to join them, would he accept that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of few?
Why am I quoting Star Trek? Desperate times have flooded my brain.
# # #
Maya’s shirt and shoes were damp from various spilt whiskies, wines, and beers. In her constant trek from thirsty tables to the waitress station, she’d worked up quite a sweat. She placed an order with Moose then took a long draw from her tepid water.
Glancing into the mirror behind the bar, she grinned as a tabby party walked in that included “the Sticker” Katie. Poor girl hadn’t given up on her infatuation. Her mind still flashed with visions of Terran, which were nice to
glean because he was finely dressed.
Katie and her friends joined the already overflowing patrons at Mo-swa’s. Citizens of Morgan Junction had gathered to remember Ethan Crowder’s spirit in a way that would have made him proud.
Her breath caught as an invigorating rush of bubbles fizzled up her spine. Terran was near. Her mind reached out and the troubled storm that had thundered all night through her consciousness stilled.
Is this the gift he will give me?
This feeling of stability and peace as he guided her along like a compass in her drifting sea of life. She did not turn and acknowledge him. Instead, she monitored his trek into the bar from the spyglass mirror, searched his mind, and waited for the moment he became aware of her presence.
Can he detect me through our elemental connection? Will destiny nudge him in my direction?
It wasn’t fair to cheat, to pick through the energy patterns in his mind. Her impatience wrapped her tight.
As waves surged, rising high before crashing through her body, she gasped. Lust swelled as a coursing magnetic attraction connected them at their very cores. She closed her eyes and released a calming breath as his desire overwhelmed her senses. Her answer was crystal clear. Yes, his effect is the same.
Terran twisted through the crowd and approached the bar. Worry erupted that her need might present as steam pouring off her body.
Strong hands landed on her hips, and she smiled when their gaze met in the mirror. Aware she looked like a sap, but she couldn’t cork the excited bubbles that threatened to pop due to his presence.
He brushed her hair from her nape and kissed beneath her ear. With a gentle nudge at her waist, he shifted her around. Worried brown eyes peered downward. “Where have you been?”
“Just waiting for you, Terran. What shall I do now that you’re here?”
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