Burning Darkness (13 page)

A southern-accented voice said, “Who the hell—Eric Aruda, right?”

Eric said nothing as he tried to wrestle something out of the man’s hand. Yes, a knife. Fonda stomped on his hand and wrestled the knife from his tight fingers.

“Fonda, get out of here!”

She saw Sayre then, his head shaved closer than Jerryl liked to keep his, blue-gray eyes flat. He was looking right at her, even as he struggled with Eric. And he smiled at her, a smile that sent a cold shiver through her body. The men rolled from one side to the other, both locked in a death grip.

“Nice of you to bring your girlfriend,” Sayre said in a strained voice. “I haven’t been able to visit Amy lately. Me an’ her, we had a good time. Lucas tell you?”

His voice was filled with his taunting as well as strain. Eric got in a punch, which grazed Sayre’s cheek. Eric was bigger, but Sayre was quick. That punch would have demolished him if Sayre hadn’t moved so fast.

She aimed the knife, hoping to disable Sayre so Eric could get control over the situation, but she was afraid of accidentally stabbing Eric. She jammed the knife into a tree and jumped on Sayre’s back when they rolled again.

“Fonda, get out,” Eric growled.

Sayre flung his arm back and hit her in the side of the face, knocking her off. She heard Eric’s snarl, and by the time she jumped to her feet and faced them, Sayre was also on his feet. Eric rushed him, shoving him against a tree trunk. Sayre’s breath rushed out with a groan. He should have collapsed but instead kicked Eric in the stomach. Eric doubled over, only for a second but long enough for Sayre to get another kick in and dodge around him. Eric’s hands just missed him. Fonda reached for the knife in the tree but it took several tugs to get it free. By then Sayre was gone, his footsteps retreating into the darkness.

Eric slammed his fist into the tree he was standing beside. “Dammit!”

“Hey, take this somewhere else, man,” a man’s voice said.

“Are you all right?” she asked, coming up to Eric.

With the light coming from below, his face looked even more intense and angry when he turned to her, his breath coming hard. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

“Saving your ass, as it turned out. He would have ambushed you.”

He reached down and swiped up the flashlight with a flick of his wrist. He swept the light around on the ground until it lit up the gun, which had obviously been dropped. “Why didn’t you stay in the truck? I thought you didn’t want to bother with my wars.”

“I’m tired of being left out. I figured I’d be backup.”

He straightened up in front of her, his chest still rising and falling, hand flattened over his stomach where he’d been kicked. “You could have gotten killed.”

“There’s something you don’t know about me, Eric. I don’t like to play it safe. Feeling fear is better than feeling . . . numb. And you’re welcome.” She started back, realizing she’d used his name for the first time. Hearing it roll off her tongue felt strange, intimate.

He followed, coming up beside her. “I’m supposed to thank you for what, little girl? Exposing yourself to a psycho bastard?”

She flung a look at him.

“Okay, thank you for saving my ass. That’s two I owe you.”

“We’re not keeping score. I don’t want you owing me anything.” Or vice versa. Particularly vice versa.

They weaved around the people who weren’t quite sleeping anymore. Some were sitting up, grumbling at the intrusion. Within minutes she and Eric walked out of the woods. He smelled of earth and male and had a smear of dirt across his cheek, and somehow those things were arousing in a strange way.

He took hold of her arm, twisting her around to face him. “It was only a figure of speech. You’re right. There’s no owing anyone anything. Right now we’re working together.”

The tight feel of his hand around her arm triggered something deep in her body. “Then you shouldn’t have your panties in a wad because I went in to make sure the guy didn’t whack you. Which he would have. If we’re working together, you shouldn’t have a problem with that. And I may be little, but I’m not a ‘little girl,’ and don’t call me that again. Just because I made a big deal about Jerryl standing up for me at the bar doesn’t mean I’m a frail flower. I’ve dealt with drug dealers, thugs in the ’hood, I’ve handled a lot of ugly stuff by myself. So if I want to get in on the action, I will. That is, if we’re really working—”

His mouth covered hers, and she was completely thrown off. It amazed her, however, how her mouth jumped right in, kissing him back. Her lips softened and parted beneath his. He took that as invitation and slid his tongue inside, sweeping across her teeth, swirling around her tongue. She couldn’t breathe and it didn’t even matter. She felt the urge to tear off her shirt and move into his body, and the thought was so jarring, she pushed him back.

She covered her mouth with her fingers. “What’d you do that for?”

“To shut you up. Let’s get out of here.”

She narrowed her eyes at his back as he walked to the truck. Damn him. Heat was still flushing through her body. She followed, getting into the passenger side.

He started the truck and looked at her. “I know . . . ‘Don’t ever do that again.’ ”

“Damn straight.” That was the problem. Those weren’t the words screaming through her mind. Not
No, no, no!
But
More, more, more!

She put
No, no, no
on her expression. And what did he do? Laughed! Shook his head and laughed. Honest to God, she didn’t know whether to slap him or laugh with him, and the two warring factions twisted her insides like taffy. On top of that, his laugh transformed his face from hard and chiseled to handsome and boyish. His icy blue eyes sparkled, and his mouth, slightly crooked, revealed perfect white teeth.

“You think this is funny?” she asked.

He sobered for a moment. “No, it’s very, very serious.” Then a laugh erupted again.

“Care to share why you think this . . . this situation is funny?”

He got control of his laughter. “You remind me of someone I know well. Stubborn. Reckless. Lives for drama. Angry. Full of piss and vinegar.”

“Who’s that?”

He waited a beat, that smile still on his face. “Me.”

Her eyes popped. She didn’t know what to make of
that
. “So when you kissed me back there, you were . . . kissing yourself?”

He rubbed his fingers across his mouth. “Interesting thought. Maybe I should do it again”—he leaned closer—“and see if I can figure it out.”

She leaned back even as her body wanted to meet him in the middle. “Back off, Aruda.”

“Just kidding.” He was still smiling. Triple damn him. The smear of dirt, the tousled blond hair, the irreverent smile, all made her want to roll around on the ground with him.

Naked.

Hush! Naughty thoughts. Dirty . . . funny.
She had the dialogue with herself before realizing that again Connie’s vicious words weren’t playing in her head anymore.

Change the subject.
“You know, I didn’t even think about freezing time back there. That was dumb. I could have stabbed him or something. I’m not used to having that skill.”

“I didn’t think about it either.” At least he hadn’t agreed on the dumb part.

He pulled out his cell phone and made a call. “Hey, Nicholas, it’s Eric.” Defeat permeated his voice. “No, I didn’t get him. He must have sensed me checking on him earlier, because he was ready . . . No, I’m okay.” He glanced at her. “I had some help. I’ll try again later. Right now I want to focus on the guy who can squish our guts with his mind. Can you do a locate on someone you’ve never seen? . . . I figured you’d need a touchstone, and I don’t have a picture of him. I can’t remote-view unless I have a location. Unfortunately, I think he’ll end up finding us; I’d much rather find him first. Everything the same there? . . . Okay. I’m here if you need me.”

He disconnected.

She said, “I can locate. I found Nicholas and Olivia for Darkwell a couple of times.”

“Do it.”

She nodded. It felt good to be useful. “But I need sleep first. I’m exhausted.” That last rush of adrenaline had wiped her out. Okay, two rushes: the one she’d gotten when fighting with Sayre and the one that came with Eric’s kiss.

“We’ll find a motel. But now that Sayre knows about you, be careful because he’ll be after you.”

“After me?”

“You intrigued him. Plus he’ll go after you just to get to me. I’m sure he thinks we’re together.
Together
together. Just be aware. He gets into your dreams and makes you do things. You’ll feel a prickle at the base of your neck, but you won’t notice it if you’re asleep. I’ll make sure you don’t go wandering around.”

“Because we’ll be in the same room?”

“Makes sense. Money is limited, so might as well keep the costs down. And like I said earlier, you’ve already seen me naked, and I’ve almost seen you naked, so we’re practically lovers already.”

“Don’t say that.” Boy, those words had come flying right out.
Way to not sound like that bothers you.

“Unless you don’t think you can handle it . . .” He slid her a look that reeked of challenge.

Oh yeah, they were alike all right. He knew exactly how to get to her.
Keep that in mind, little girl. Uh, girl!

“It won’t be a problem.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Good.” She couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Because we’re not going there, you and me. Maybe we’re working together, but we are not going
there
.”

His fingers tightened on the wheel. “Remember those examples I gave you of what Lucas and Nicholas did to prove their love for their women? They put their asses on the line because they were all wrapped up in their feelings. Romantic? Sure. Brave? Yes. Stupid? Definitely. They lost their minds. I have no intention of doing that. So fear not that my hand—or anything else—will go roaming over to your side of the bed during the night. What’s going on right now is way too serious for us to get sidetracked, whether we want to or not.”

Did he want to?

Forget that.

“What do you mean, ‘your side of the bed’? Don’t you mean, my bed?”

“Sure, whatever.”

“We’re not sharing a bed.”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Glad we got that settled.” She glanced at him. “ ’Cause we’re not.”
Okay, you’ve made your point.
“What will Sayre do if he gets into my head?”

“I can only guess based on his past actions. He’ll have you come on to me so he can vicariously have sex. Or he’ll have you try to kill me. Maybe both.”

“Holy crap.”

F
onda and Eric were a half hour closer to Annapolis when they pulled into the gravel parking lot of another cheap motel.

She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. This place offers the rooms by the
hour
.”

He grinned as he read the sign: THE LOVE SHACK. “It’s perfect. They won’t need a credit card and they won’t take notice of us. We’re just two more horny people in for a quickie.”

Okay, he really hadn’t needed to say that. Not on the heels of that kiss. Even now she involuntarily rubbed her fingers over her mouth.

So the first problem was, as they stood at the nicked-up desk in the office, that the fat, greasy man they’d roused from sleep gave them a fat, greasy smile after taking them in, and her in particular.

The second problem: no room had two beds. Of course.

“Don’t get a lot of call for twin beds here,” he said, now eyeing them with an odder look than he had when they rang the bell at two in the morning, disheveled and dirt-smeared.

“We’ll take whatever you’ve got,” Eric said, slapping cash on the counter.

Easy for him to say.

The man gave them a key, sliding a look to her but addressing Eric. “Porn channels are extra. If you want to watch, I’ll need your card.”

“Pass. But I’ll need an extra set of sheets.”

The man raised his thick dark eyebrow. He pushed a piece of paper at him and pointed at Rule 5. “No ripping of the sheets to be used as ties. You have to bring your own. Or . . .” He ducked down and produced a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. “ . . . you can buy these for fifteen bucks. I’ve got other toys—”

Eric held out his hand to stop him. “No . . . thanks.”

“You have to sign here that you’ve read the rules and will abide by them. No using chocolate syrup. We lost a room for a whole day because the stuff looks like blood when it dries, and the crime scene unit had to come out.”

She got stuck on the chocolate syrup part, dripping it over a hard male body, licking it off.

The man continued, “No—”

“Give me the thing to sign.” Impatience saturated Eric’s voice.

She peeked at the rules. No lit candles for those who wanted to drip hot wax onto their lover’s bodies. No use of oils for lubricants. Oh, boy.

He scribbled his name and took the extra set of sheets from the man.

“Five dollars.”

“You’re kidding,” Eric said in a voice an octave deeper than usual, nailing him with a dark look.

“Uh, yes.” The man giggled without a smile. “Have a nice night.”

They walked out, grabbed their bags from the truck, and headed to the room. Where one bed awaited them. She hoped the place looked nothing like that first room. The memory of drugging him and trying to kill him struck an ache in the pit of her stomach.

“What are the extra sheets for?” she asked. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re up for sharing a bed?”

Whoa.
She hadn’t actually thought that through, only that no way was he going to lay on what she assumed would be the grossest carpet in the whole world. “It’s no big deal.”

“I’ll still use the extra sheets. I don’t have anything to sleep in, and I’m not sure I could sleep in clothing anyway.” He tugged his thumb on the waistband of his jeans. “Too constricting. So we’ll each have our own sheets.”

The cat slept in the nude, that’s what he was saying. Flippin’ great. He seemed to think that because she’d seen him naked, seeing him naked again wouldn’t bother her. She couldn’t tell him that, yes, it would bother her very much, thank you. As tired as her brain was, her body was awake and prickling like electricity in all the wrong places.

He slid the key into the lock and opened the door. “Nice,” he said, drawing out the word.

Oh, boy.

He swept his arm toward the open door. “Ladies first.”

She stepped in, her eyes going right to the round bed with the faded leopard-print bedspread. The bed that meant he was going to have to sleep in the middle because his feet would be hanging off the edge otherwise. Even worse, there was a large mirror above it. Metal loops sprung from the ceiling. There were pictures on the wall depicting hearts but on close inspection were actually composed of tiny pictures of erotic parts of the body.

Oh, boy.

Around the television were placards advertising the porn movies available on the pay channel. The pictures weren’t exactly modest: a man dipping his tongue into a woman’s cleavage in one, another man’s face buried in ginormous boobs in another.

Even with the phony, sweet smell coming from an air freshener, the most erotic thing was still the smell of Eric and earth.

She glanced at him, also taking it all in with bemusement. He shook his head and his expression grew serious as he walked around the room, running his hands across the ceiling tiles and the fire sprinkler head. He cut the lights and studied the mirror on the ceiling.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Checking for cameras.”

“Eww. You think someone might be taping us?”

“Never know with these kinds of places.” He went into the bathroom and even looked under the toilet lid.

“And you would know this because . . . ?” She didn’t want to think he hung around in sex spots like this.

He came out. “No, I don’t frequent these kinds of places.” He glanced around. “I’d rather have sex in the dugout of a ball field or a patch of woods in the park than a place like this.”

Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
“And I take it you have?”

His mouth curved in a half smile. “I like doing it in places that are just public enough to be risky. Got arrested once doing it on a bench in a ritzy neighborhood. Doing it in a place like this, that’s so staged . . .” He shuddered theatrically. “Much better to be spontaneous, out in the open, breathing fresh air, even better to feel summer rain hitting your bare ass . . .”

He wasn’t reminiscing about whatever woman he’d done that with. He was looking at her, his gaze sliding down her body. Her eyes filled with the heat of imagining him making love in the rain, his bare ass . . .

“I need a shower,” he said, turning abruptly.

And wash off that intoxicating mix of male and earth? “No.” He turned at her harsh order. Because she’d actually said it aloud. For all to hear. For him to hear. “Uh, I want to take one first.”

“Go ahead.”

Even through the jeans, she could see his erection straining against the denim. He walked to the curtains and looked out. She remembered the heady feeling of arousing him when she’d astrally projected to him, but she should not be feeling that now. Shouldn’t have felt it then either.

She pulled out the fluffy Marilyn-Monroe-like nightie she’d taken from the wardrobe, all Magnus’s mother had for nightwear. She took a shower, and even the flow of the water seemed more sensual, like hands moving over her skin.

Get a grip. You heard him. Getting involved is a bad idea twenty ways around. Yeah, he’s nice to have around while that psycho creep is out there, but after that, there’s no need to see him again. Then you can go find that cute guy who works at the bookstore who’s always hinting about getting together and get the horny out of your system.

Except that guy wasn’t big and muscular and gorgeous and dangerous.

She finished, put on the nightgown, made sure the fabric didn’t reveal too much, and walked out.

Eric was lying on the bed, wearing only his jeans, eyes closed, hands behind his head. Which made his biceps look even bigger. A sigh escaped her mouth, soft as a whisper. Being able to look at him like this, without him knowing, made the hunger yawn as it came fully awake. She had this illogical urge to run her fingers along the bottom edge of his rib cage and then the waistband of that too-constricting pair of jeans. Why couldn’t he have been a scrawny, ugly guy? Would that be too much to ask?

She cleared her throat. “Shower’s all yours.”

He cracked his eyes open, and then they opened completely. He shot to a sitting position. “Oh, no, you are
not
wearing that.”

Heat flushed in her cheeks, and she walked to her duffel bag.

“It’s all I have. I wasn’t planning to share a room with you. As you say, what’s the big deal?”

“Do you have to ask? Oversexed male with blue balls who was recently teased by a sexy nymph. A man can only take so much, and I’m stretched as tight as a rubber band that’s been pulled a hundred feet apart.” He jabbed his finger at her. “You prance around in that at your own risk.”

“I’m not ‘prancing’ around.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re sleeping naked. It’s hardly fair that I can’t wear what I want and you can.”

“Look, if you can’t help yourself, I’m all for being sexually attacked in the night. Can you say the same?”

The image of his hands sliding over her breasts rocketed through her mind. “Fine, I’ll change.”

He pushed to his feet and walked to the bathroom. She inhaled softly as he passed. Dreamy . . .

It was lust, a purely physical need for touch, for connection. Maybe it was her reckless streak. Damn. A part of her wanted him.
Well, you’re not going to get him
, she told it.
Besides, he’s not going there either.

She listened to the water hitting his body, imagining him running a soapy cloth across his stomach and his chest, the bubbles sliding down his skin. It was only because she’d seen him naked that she could imagine it so damned well.

She put on one of the other dresses and went to work pulling down the comforter and inspecting the sheets. They smelled fresh and clean, no stains. No signs of bed bugs in the creases of the mattress. It was while she was crawling across the bed doing her inspections, with her butt facing the bathroom door, that Eric walked out.

She heard something like a groan as she spun around, and had to swallow hard at the flare of hunger in his eyes. “Checking for . . . bugs. Didn’t find any. You know, bed bugs,” she finished lamely.

Holy crap.
He was wearing a towel wrapped around his waist, and the terry cloth didn’t even begin to camouflage what the denim did. She quickly averted her gaze up his chest, water still dripping down from towel-dried blond hair. This sharing a room business suddenly became a really bad idea. Then her gaze hit on the bruise on his stomach.

“Holy crap.” She got to her feet and came closer. “Sayre did that when he kicked you.”

“No big deal.” He turned and tried to look at his back. “What’s the scratch look like?”

“Not horrible, won’t need stitches, but . . . ouch.” She ran her finger alongside the long scratch. “It’s clean.” He smelled clean. She’d never been aroused by a man’s scent before, but the mix of soap and clean skin tickled through her body. Not a bad substitute for earth and male, actually.

“What’s the story with the eye tattoo?” she asked, because talking about anything was better than standing there sniffing him and touching his back.

He turned his right arm to look at the tattoo, inadvertently flexing the muscles. “Zoe had a dream about this symbol, and we decided to adopt it as our logo. The program our parents were in was called BLUE EYES. The O is for Offspring. The slashes in the iris look like an R, for Rogues.”

“Far out.” Now she was touching the lines of the tattoo, and quickly stopped herself and stepped back.

He picked up the stack of sheets. “You have any tattoos? I was a tattoo virgin before this.”

She nodded. “Mine aren’t for public viewing.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled in that way he did whenever something sensual came up. Slightly crooked, devilish, heat flaring into his eyes. His gaze dropped down to see if he could catch a glimpse, and she felt his eyes slide over her. His smile and the spark disappeared, though, when he looked at her thighs. The scars.

She slipped beneath the comforter completely, not wanting to give him the opportunity to pry. “We should get some rest. It’s already late.”

He apparently got the hint. “Yeah.”

He walked to the window and looked out again, giving her a view of his broad back, tapering down to a narrow waist, and that ass tightly wrapped in a blue towel. He turned back and walked over to his bag. The juxtaposition of the package of Ho Hos and the gun was jarring. He held out the package to her, offering it. She shook her head. He set the gun on the nightstand within easy grasp.

Suddenly she was very glad they were sharing a room. She felt safer with him there, next to her.

Eric tore open the cellophane and sank his teeth into the chocolate cake, checking out the front window again. After a few seconds, he flicked off the light, having left the one in the bathroom on. He laid out his sheets, untied the towel, and got into bed. She saw a flash of pale skin, the curve of his behind, and then he tossed the top sheet over him. She could smell chocolate, and it made her mouth water.

He flopped onto his back with a sigh, looking at the ceiling. “Now that’s different.”

She looked up, too, startled to see the two of them lying in bed together. Like people about to have sex. Or people who had just had sex. Except they looked too tense to have just had sex. He looked too . . . hard. The sheet was draped across his waist, but she couldn’t mistake the rise in the fabric.