Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1)

by Arlene Webb

  Jaylynn tugged Caream up. She stroked her soft hair as Damon had done and received a heart-stopping smile. “Where’d you get those clothes?” she asked. “Why are you dressed like this?”

  “Ya-man said need clothes. Damon put him in the closet. Damon left Caream! Damon came back. He made Caream put on clothes.”

  “Put Caream in closet—now,” Damon snapped.

  “I’ll grab some things,” Jaylynn spoke as fast as she could. “We need to leave before Bernice comes around. Maybe you’d like to cool off, Damon? A shower…I’ll show you.”

  Jaylynn’s heart regained its beat. He’d unclenched his fists. Another good sign—in the five minutes they’d been there, only the front door had been damaged unless an annoying, elderly woman counted. “I’ll answer your questions soon. It’ll get better, I promise.” She headed for the bedroom. Damon elbowed Caream aside as he strode for the adjoining bathroom.

  “Don’t touch.” Caream rushed around Damon. She opened the stall, turned on the shower and scampered out of his way.

  Damon hopped in. He bent to let the water pour over him, the cracked sunglasses still on, his shirt molded to his chest. Why hadn’t he undressed? An intense urge to lift that shirt, run her fingers down his chest, and unzip those jeans had Jaylynn pocketing drool as she headed for her dresser.

  No time to indulge in electric red fantasies. She had an exotic orange doll to dress, who’d howl if the colors were wrong. Good thing she had another black shirt and dress pants. It seemed she didn’t own anything orange. Jaylynn flipped her bedspread from blue to black side up, and turned.

  Caream, minus silk chemise, leather pants and sunglasses, poked Damon in the back. Without looking down at her, he shifted to share the water. There couldn’t be a romance novel written that’d do justice to the pair. Droplets trailed off breasts a starlet would kill for, and ran down Caream’s slender stomach into curls of darker hair, shades of sweet sorbet.

  Damon wore the same jeans as when he moved in front of Jaylynn’s car the first time, his ripped shirt covered the bullet in his shoulder. A shudder ran through him, and Caream moved to hug him. His large hand came down on top of her head. He shoved her into the wall and stepped from the shower.

  Bright hair plastered to his face, Damon tossed the sunglasses on the bed and fastened his gaze, a breathtaking kaleidoscope of crimson, on Jaylynn. She swallowed hard and envied the droplets, which clung to his lean body and then fell and sparkled so prettily. Her heart fluttered like a deranged hummingbird. Not easy to concentrate on his grumble, when she melted into a pool of hormones in front of him.

  “Water is good. Jaylynn is not. Afraid? Again? Damon sorry. Jaylynn wants something. Damon hide demon eyes?”

  Oh sweet Lord, he can hear her whacked heartbeat? Smell her lust? “Oh, no, don’t be sorry. I’m not afraid of your eyes. They’re lovely, but different and you need to hide them. Police are searching everywhere for you. That fire could have killed many people.”

  She took a deep breath. “I’ll take you to my ex-husband’s in Albuquerque. He isn’t home, and it’s out of this state.”

  “Wrong words are lies? Jaylynn lies to Bernice and Damon. Not good.” He stepped back and crossed his arms. “Damon won’t break Jaylynn again. Try not to touch Jaylynn. Stop being afraid. Police won’t take anyone. Damon will stop.”

  Guilt filled his expression, along with such bitterness. Nothing Jaylynn said would convince this being she’d labeled a demon, that her fear was justified—especially if it wasn’t. Had he said something about confronting police? Her brain froze after he’d said he wouldn’t touch her. Well, no cops to worry about right now, and she’d show him exactly what she thought about the other declaration.

  Damon flinched back. The wall closed in behind him, and he looked at her with such wary surprise as she flung her arms around his waist. Jesus, you’d think he’d never been held before.

  She hugged him, absorbed the glistening water from his shirt to hers, and nestled under his chin while a deep breath of heaven filled her lungs. Sweet ripe strawberries, meadow of burgundy clover, plump cherries, she couldn’t begin to describe his scent. Encircled by electricity, she loved his arms moving around her, sheltering her. Did he understand how her fear walked hand in hand with desire? She arched her back and raised her chin—unbelievable. Oh yes, he understood. Curiosity, relief, and contentment darkened his gaze.

  Jaylynn let go of his waist, and smoothed wet hair from his face. “It takes time to learn to trust. I’ll try harder. Now, I’d like you to wait…” Oh damn, his ripped shirt. How could she forget? “That bullet can’t stay in your shoulder. We need medical help. Doesn’t it hurt?”

  “Yes. But Damon strong.” He released her, fists clenched, and paced away. “Fire kills psych hospital. Damon knows how to find hospital. Albuquerque? Ex-husband? Mom? Teach.”

  Jesus Christ. Burn down a hospital, and what had some unfortunate mother done? Even more important, what had she just done? He’d halted in front of her, and those eyes almost turned black. His intense stare left her clinging shirt and flickered on Caream in the open shower. Droplets glistened on exquisite breasts, in full, rounded shades of tangerine.

  God. Jaylynn thought she’d met her share of oblivious males before. Damon’s gaze penetrated her breasts, her nipples made taut by water and the press of his chest, and then he stared at the color scorching her face. Puzzled sparks of irritation flashed in his eyes, and she forced herself to breathe.

  “Damon, you must listen. No more fires, and forget even talking to the police. Caream needs to put on these clothes.” Jaylynn went to her closet, and set a pair of black sandals on the bed. So what? A gorgeous hunk from outer space stood confused in her bedroom. He must know that she was in over her head, flustered like a schoolgirl. “I’ll get some learning discs you can listen to in the car. Be right back.”

  She fled, fanning out her wet shirt and hurried to open her store. Bottled water, English language discs, and off to loot the cash register. She relocked the door and hit speed dial. “Hey Mary, I decided to go to that conference in San Fran.”

  “Like a ride?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll park at the airport. I do need help. Had a run in with Bernice. She insisted I was with some guy wanted for that fire.”

  “Yikes. Details, girl. Who is he?”

  “Doesn’t exist. I’m not with any human male. Text me if you need a hit man for Bernice. Believe it or not, I know someone. Sorry, I’m running late. Thanks. Later.”

  She disconnected and smiled at a wet Caream. Jaylynn’s clothes hung on the petite girl, but she looked considerably more respectable. Damon fidgeted beside her.

  “Light still here. Move now?” His hair even more tangled than before, crimson droplets reluctantly gave up their cling and hit the floor.

  “Yes, before Bernice comes around. I have to do something with her.”

  Caream looked at the brown cabinet by the door. “Caream put her in closet.”

  “Oh God, no. In her car would be best. Wait a minute. I’m almost ready.” She ran to her bedroom, turned off the shower, smashed Caream’s stolen clothes into a drawer, and threw the only other black apparel she owned into an overnight bag. She grabbed a burgundy and a black throw and raced back.

  By the door, Damon held Bernice, her white hair away from his chest. Caream reached up and hid his angry eyes with the mangled sunglasses.

  Her stomach in knots, Jaylynn locked her damaged door behind them and made it two feet. Damon’s abrupt gesture commanded that she wait. A male thing? A redhead with control issues? Or, most likely, he’d heard the car that passed well before she could.

  When Jaylynn caught up to the fiery blur, Bernice sat in her vehicle. Damon glowered by the driver door of Jaylynn’s sedan, and Caream scrambled in through the front passenger door.

  “Damon drive.”

  “No, Damon break.” Caream slid into the driver seat.

  Hey, guys, I’m not a complete doormat. “Neither one
of you is driving. The police have a statewide manhunt. Prison is worse than any psych ward. No one can see either of you.”

  “Forget police prison. Girls drive stupid.” Damon shoved Caream out of the driver seat. He crossed his arms and faced Jaylynn.

  She draped the burgundy blanket on his shoulder. “Get in the back. Please.” Her stroke on his rock-hard arm, then his face, sealed his non-driving fate. She swallowed her giggle. Impossible to continue fearing him, when he stomped his foot like a toddler, and then did as told. Damon’s muscular body flung to sprawl on the backseat. He threw the blanket over his head, still growling, and rather cute in a wild, killer bear sort of way.

  The overnight bag clunked onto the floor, and Jaylynn dropped water and discs on the front seat. She handed the black blanket to Caream and pulled out her cell as she plopped into the seat. She turned the key and texted one-handed to Mary: You won’t believe. Bernice is out cold, in car, my driveway, please check. And no I didn’t kill her Love you.

  They exited the small town, and the backseat grumble started. “Jaylynn drives stupid. Damon drive fast.”

  “No, never Damon drive.” Caream huddled beside Jaylynn, under the blanket.

  “Both of you listen.” Jaylynn threw the language disc in. “Stop calling yourselves by your names and try to follow this. I’ll drive as fast as I dare.”

  Ten miles over the speed limit, she headed northeast. Unfortunately, four hundred miles lay between them and the haven of Albuquerque. Once Bernice started screaming, the hunt for Jaylynn and a redhead would be on. She hadn’t dared to take a moment and check the net for spaceships before exiting Dodge. What she wouldn’t give for that laptop she should have splurged on, but exposing geeks at a Wi-Fi zone to tantrum prone aliens couldn’t be a good thing.

  Not going public that either mutated humans or fiery light had invaded out of the clear blue…er…red/orange sky had to be electric chair illegal. How could she trust the government, especially if it required finesse? On the other hand—major world news. Perhaps authorities could help better than she, or they’d lock all of them up and open the dissecting lab.

  So volatile, Damon would go ninja if a macho cop got in his face. Caream seemed to be a constant irritant, but if someone threatened her, Jaylynn suspected he’d react without thought of consequences to himself or the person he strangled.

  Jesus, speak of the devil. Damon leaned elbows on the back of the seat behind her. The blanket covered his head like a shawl, his hands clasped under his chin. God, one little jump from her, and his grunt turned into a rant.

  “Damon-I can listen, talk, and drive, if Jaylynn-you, would stop being stupid. I will…I’ll hear the police.” He sighed, distracting her with his seductive scent, and his amazing use of structured sentences. Probably the first time in history language discs actually worked.

  “I-me is a problem. I’m learning, but I don’t know what I am. There shouldn’t be I or you. There should only be…us. Sorry, it hurts—my—head to think so much. Jaylynn, forget I or no I. Teach me about murderers, drugs, demons, fags, freaks, aids, prisons. Then tell Dam…me how to find Mom, police, and where every hospital is. Start with why you’re afraid of me, police, and this ex-husband.”

  Sure, she could explain that grocery list from the little shop of WTF, in a millennium or so, doused in tequila. She swallowed hard and settled on the least threatening option. “I used to live in Albuquerque, a city in another state with different police. Wesley, my ex-husband, and I got married, which meant…”

  She continued to rattle on. Damon questioned her as if English was almost natural to him, an occasional flaw his referral to himself by name. Caream remained quiet, her head on Jaylynn’s lap, covered by the blanket.

  Forty minutes passed, the second language disc neared an end, and the town of Winslow faded behind them. Jaylynn felt blown away by Damon. He had total recall, his brain a computer. He consistently steered her to get to the point, and he grilled her like he planned battle strategy.

  Caream tensed against Jaylynn’s leg, and she grasped the wheel tighter as the four-lane traffic slowed.

  Damon growled in her ear. “Police are closing in. Go faster.”

  “You see the police?” She only noticed fuming red, not flashing cop lights, in the rearview mirror.

  “No. I hear the siren. They’ll pass in three minutes. They’re slow, but everyone drives faster than us.”

  “Oh God. Could you ah, duck down?”

  His muttering inaudible, Damon crouched behind the seat. The digital clock read exactly three minutes later when the patrol car sped past them. She released her pent up breath. “Do you hear anymore?”

  “No.” Damon’s snap rang out loud and clear. “That police is stopping. We’re outnumbered, but they won’t take anyone. Jaylynn, remember not to be afraid. I’ve told you that twenty-eight times now. Next curve, you’ll see.”

  A goddamn roadblock!

  Two patrol cars angled the road. A third parked on the shoulder leaving them trapped by traffic behind them. Jaylynn’s hand on Caream encouraged her to remain down, covered by the blanket. Damon turned from the flashing lights to face Jaylynn, and his grin disappeared.

  “Get on the floor.” She fought her panic and forced the wobble from her voice. “Let me handle this.” Had her pathetic attempt to show confidence succeeded?

  He snorted.

  Nope. Beg? She swallowed hard. “Please.”

  His lovely eyes hidden beneath the shades surely rolled to the ceiling, but Damon went down without a grunt that she could hear. She sat straight and took a deep breath—CD player off, window down. And damn it, smile; don’t sob.

  The older officer lost his smile back at her, his attention on the blanket-covered form.

  “My daughter gets car sick.” The man shrugged and started to wave her on when he leaned to peer behind her. Damon’s boots stuck out from under the blanket?

  “Out of the car, lady. Hands on your head!”

  The burgundy blanket flew upward, Caream scrambled aside, and a red ninja poured over the seat. His knees pressed into Jaylynn, Damon reached over her and slugged the surprised cop in the chest through the window. Current seized her. Lifted like a petrified bundle of nothing, Jaylynn gaped as the officer fell backward. The car lurched forward, and she settled on the seat against the thigh of an explosive alien.

  Harsh demands to stop, I’ll shoot, then, oh yes—gunfire.

  They tore around a patrol car with inches to spare, weaved through oncoming traffic, cut in and out of lanes, and avoided stunned drivers while the blaring sirens faded. Oh God, ninety miles per hour and accelerating.

  “Close your mouth. Your teeth are awful.” Only one hand on the wheel, Damon clasped her leg and heat shot down to her toes. “Stop worrying. I can drive. I don’t understand how to start the cars so they won’t break, but I’m careful not to put my foot through the metal.”

  Oh my god oh my god oh my god. “Are you nuts? Slow down. You could’ve killed that man. They’ll radio ahead. Set up more roadblocks, get helicopters, put those stop stick things down.” Jaylynn arched her back to look at him. “What are you and what do you mean, my teeth are awful?”

  Not good. Brow furrowed, Damon jerked his hand from her leg.

  Caream removed her blanket, and spoke for the first time since they’d left Winslow. “You’ll fry the engine, Damon the dumb. Hear the gears? No more past the grind, but you’re too ignorant to comprehend. I’ll drive.” She slid closer.

  Damon swatted her and re-grabbed the wheel without losing speed. “Try that again,” he growled, “I’ll knock you out the door. Jaylynn, listen. That police said he’d shoot, but he didn’t. I barely touched the liar and none of his bones broke. If I knew what I was, I’d tell you. Why won’t you be a good teacher? Stop asking me stupid questions and answer. Do helicopters drop bullets to kill? Not just water?”

  Jaylynn cringed against the gale pummeling through the window. “I can’t think. We’re gonna hit somethi
ng. Damon, you’re scaring me.”

  He let out a deep sigh. He angled his shoulder to block the wind, and forced her face into his chest. “Afraid of police, ex-husband, cars, me, the air even. You said to trust you. I cooperated for eighty-eight long minutes, while you drove slower than I could run carrying you and the car. Try for one minute to trust me. Where’s Albuquerque?”

  She drew a deep breath and answered into his shirt. “This way, Route 40, headed northeast, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll all be dead soon.”

  His laugh burst out. Deep, masculine, a growl of rough delight she’d never heard before. Under the shades, his brilliant eyes sparkled down at her, and she gulped. “Watch the damn road, you maniac.” They leveled out at, oh, oh, oh, one hundred and sixty-five miles per hour.

  After a few minutes, Jaylynn began to suspect death wasn’t imminent. She straightened and moved sheepishly from him. Damon scowled. He tugged her right back, leaving her so warm, cozy, and hopelessly confused. The clothes he’d soaked in the shower weren’t even damp. Caream didn’t jolt with currents of warmth when she came into contact. A source of energy needing constant motion, Damon’s arm clasped Jaylynn’s shoulders, and he alternated between stroking her, and twirling strands of her hair around his fingers.

  One tap of Caream’s finger, the plastic covering where radio control knobs should be fluttered to the floor, and she twisted the prong. She paused at a rock station and glanced at the lunatic driver. Damon shrugged, and Caream switched to classical. Damon smiled. Caream grinned back and returned to rock as he sighed.

  The late afternoon light seemed to be a relentless source of irritation. Caream pulled the blanket over her head and inched to cuddle against Jaylynn, humming with incredible pitch any verse that caught her interest. Caught tightly between two colors, an electric illusion of security comforted Jaylynn, while Damon’s demands poured out in a rough grumble.

  “Do you know what we are yet? How we return where we belong? Can you kill, but not know it? Wouldn’t the heart stop beating? How many police, exactly, are there in Albuquerque? Jaylynn, this is important. Where do they get weapons? Answer. Start with guns.”