Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1)

by Arlene Webb

  This time Malcolm didn’t move. Jade threw her arms around him. “You typed to Aaron. What didn’t you want me to hear?”

  Malcolm cupped her face and bent. A brush of Jade’s lips, and he allowed them to see the sapphire droplets welled in his eyes. He pushed Jade into Aaron and strode back to the computer.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “If you don’t stop soon and put me down, I’ll chomp your ear off.” Jaylynn’s arm throbbed and her head pounded. Hopefully, Show Low’s five thousand plus residents remained unaware of the hot and sticky felons racing through the pines bordering their town.

  “Then bite me,” Damon snapped, breathing hard. “I’d hear less yelling…with one ear. You miss the pretty…stuff inside me?”

  “Jaylynn…no,” Caream called out. “What’d he do now?”

  “Nothing. And I’d never bite anyone. I don’t feel that good, and—”

  Damon’s dead halt caused Jaylynn to bang against him. He lifted her off his back and settled her feet on soft needles. He clasped her elbow and vermillion light trailed her up and down. “Don’t feel good? What else is broken?”

  “I’m fine.” She pulled away and stomped the wobble from her legs. “But this directionless running without a plan can’t go on forever.”

  “Wait here.” Caream bolted, veering through the trees, instantly out of Jaylynn’s sight.

  “Caaaream…” Damon ceased his bellow. He grabbed Jaylynn’s hand and tugged her to the nearest tree. “I can hear stupid girl. If men come from a hospital…never mind.” He sprawled down, pulled Jaylynn onto his lap, and leaned against the prickly trunk.

  Pine scent drenched the air, soft light filtered through the trees. Their shirts were soaked with intoxicating crimson sweat. The hard security of male arms, energy pulsating from every taut muscle, would send Jaylynn smack into the thrall of an erotic dream come true if worry didn’t ground her in reality.

  Damon combed electric fingers through her hair. “I smell almost clean water. One hundred and sixty-three people are on or by this lake. It’s out of these trees, under the wrong sky, but it’d be fun to play in. Your problem? Would water help?”

  He worried about her, while he held her against his bullet-free shoulder. She reached to pull off the sunglasses. Unbelievable, yet his eyes showed that edge of weary pain. As usual, she couldn’t enjoy them for a delicious second before they flooded with impatience.

  “Tell me what I…haven’t done. What do you need?”

  Jaylynn smiled. She stifled the urge to brush her lips over his cheek. “Not much. Just want you to rest a moment.” She scrambled off him and sat down.

  “I shouldn’t yell ‘what’s wrong’ like you always do?” He stretched out, gorgeous muscles rippling, and allowed her to pull his head into her lap.

  She nodded. A brush of her fingertips over his eyes, and he closed them. He relaxed against her, and a whispery sigh blew from his lips as she massaged his temples.

  “Don’t think about the trees or sky.” Tendrils of his flaming hair clung to Jaylynn’s hands, electricity made static. “Imagine there’s no police, nothing fragile, no one making you hide. Paint a picture in your mind. Where would you be?”

  “I’d be out of this body that hurts. No strange light. Only red. Not like it should be, but with you touching my head that isn’t there.”

  His soft grunt encouraged her fingers to explore over stubbled cheeks to the strong line of his neck. “Go on,” she said.

  “Your heart will beat happy, telling me you aren’t angry. I’ve only heard the, ‘want something fun,’ one hundred and two times before you’re afraid and yell or stopping touching me. No Caream anywhere. That’s where we’d be.” His sharp grin flashed, his eyes still closed. “Shut up, Caaaream. She wants from me—not you. Stay away.”

  “Huh?” Jaylynn swallowed hard. “I want from you?”

  Damon groaned. “I hate when you’re stupid. How can you not know what you want? If I understood, I’d do it. Caream asks why you never rub her stupid head. Yell at her. Maybe she’ll run again, further away.”

  Jaylynn stilled her hands. Flashes of fire sparkled through the trees. Motivated by his low growl, she returned to caressing Damon’s temples, while Caream came to a swirling crouch beside them.

  “I found a place,” Caream said.

  “Where? In the town?” Jaylynn asked. “We can’t just break in somewhere.”

  Ooops. No…A large hand clamped over her mouth. Muscles jerked in a lunge from sprawl to feet, and powerful legs matched Caream’s pace. King Kong couldn’t go two minutes without making Jaylynn want to scream. Unfortunately, anger dissolved in a submissive puddle of contentment as Damon carried her like a beloved child. If only he’d understand why certain state buildings—or populated motels—should be avoided.

  Caream led them to a rustic inn on the outskirts of Show Low. From the surrounding pines, Jaylynn could see the crowded parking lot. Damon wouldn’t move his hand. He knew what she’d say. They circled around back.

  In front of the door in the furthest corner, Caream glowered at Damon. “Back off.” She gave the knob a twist, pushed the door open, and avoided further destruction by closing it behind them.

  Damon crossed the room and scowled at the blue bedspread. His finger caressed Jaylynn’s lips, an arrogant demand for silence, and he tumbled her onto the double bed. With choreographed precision, a dance of red and orange, it took but a minute to smash annoyances out of sight inside the closet, except the checkered curtain blocking out the late afternoon sunlight and the bedspread. Damon tossed his sunglasses on the counter, and Jaylynn caught his grimace as he tugged off his shirt. His irritated gaze flashed on her.

  What the hell? His head had been turned. Had he heard her breath catch over that bullet-stricken, pavement-damaged, mangled shoulder? Was he a mind reader? Not possible. Innocence would have long been corrupted by her hedonistic musings. They were colorful criminals without a clue. And she’d not come up with anything intelligent, as her sole focus was the magnetic male striding for the bathroom.

  Caream stomped behind Damon. A green shower curtain came flying out, and the sound of splattering water filled the room. Caream returned to shove the curtain in the closet and smile at Jaylynn. “Come on. He’ll move if you push him.” The more respectable clothes she’d given Caream settled on the floor.

  Sparkles of light caressed Caream’s body in a fiery glow. An exotic, seductive child of joy. Did finding an alien female beyond irresistible mean Jaylynn was bisexual now? She swallowed hard. “Go ahead. I’m fine.”

  Jaylynn stretched out. She’d close her eyes momentarily, and then—maybe—why not? Who cared about pounding head, aching arm, lack of a plan, when she had a ménage a trois with living energy a few steps away. In a moment, she’d see if they needed…something…

  * * *

  The motel curtains fluttered in the soft breeze, and Jaylynn could see through the opened window. The sun had set, and the stars were out. She didn’t want to emerge from her warm haven. What had she been dreaming? Unfortunately the lingering bliss dissipated with a hard swallow against a sandpaper taste and not being able to remember where she was.

  She lifted her head. Wow, hearts really did go pitter pat. She’d been sleeping, pillowed on Damon’s bare chest. He sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed. The black blanket covered the blue bedspread, the burgundy blanket over his face. He didn’t move when she sat up.

  Dressed in the clothes Jaylynn had given her, Caream lay on the floor inches from the TV. She watched a sitcom, the volume so low Jaylynn couldn’t hear it. She tossed Jaylynn her radiant smile. “I wish they’d use pretty colors, but it’s funny. The dialogue is silly.”

  Jaylynn slid off the bed and looked closer. The TV background was a pale orange. The front panel hinged open and wires hung out. Numerous traffic violations, resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, stealing a police car, assisting known arsonists, breaking and entering, and so much vandalism. Life is go
od.

  Her bag and purse sat by the sink. She shook out some painkillers, and gulped a cup of water. Caream seemed engrossed in the redesigned TV. Damon appeared to be sleeping soundly. She might as well go for it.

  The hot water drumming on her back felt wonderful, and Jaylynn used the shampoo from the inn. She didn’t dare stay in long. No shower curtain, her stomach rumbling, and the overall strangeness of being on the run with two non-humans threatened to overwhelm her. She wrung her hair and turned off the water. “Dammit,” she mumbled. Not a towel in sight.

  “What’s wrong?” Damon’s low growl reached her ears.

  “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

  “Can’t. I don’t sleep. I’m resting. Why are you worried in there with the door closed?”

  “I wanted a towel, but it’s okay.”

  “Caream, get her one,” he barked.

  “No. You.”

  “I put them in. You can get one out.”

  “You aren’t the boss of me,” Caream snapped. “Get the dead towel yourself.”

  “Boss of you? What’s that supposed to mean? I’ll throw you in there with the rest of the ugly stuff that shouldn’t be here.”

  Jaylynn burst out of the bathroom, dressed in a fresh, now wet, black shirt and the same dress pants. Damon still had the blanket over his face.

  “Stop bellowing. Someone will hear us.” How could she figure out what to do without even five minutes of peace? She grabbed her comb and sat on the edge of the bed. An orange flash encouraged her to attempt shedding her skin, and she peered through her hair.

  “Let me help. Pleeease.”

  Jaylynn smiled and handed the irresistible woman her comb. Caream bounded onto the bed and perched her butt on Damon’s leg.

  “Why are you always bothering me?” Damon flung the blanket, yanked his leg free, and rolled off the bed. He paced, drawn to the clock on the nightstand with a glowing red dial.

  The glass face crushed under his thumb as he picked it up. An angry glance to see if Caream had noticed and Damon put it back—breaking the legs. Aside from one sprained arm, he’d never given Jaylynn a bruise, yet he couldn’t hold a simple object?

  Aware she watched him, Damon sighed. He continued to prowl the small room. “You aren’t tired or thirsty. You’re always worried. Explain hungry.”

  “Most life forms need food, or eventually we die. People usually eat two or three times a day.”

  Damon grabbed the ripped shirt and headed for the door. “I’ll find a food source.”

  For the love of God. “Damon, no. I don’t need to eat right this second.” He barely let Jaylynn open her mouth, let alone process what new crisis she had to cope with. “Could you sit down? Help me figure out what to do next.” The thought of what he’d consider food was comical, yet terrifying. Her warrior could provide bloody chunks of cat or dog. Pyros would torch the place and barbecue the upset pet owner. Red tomatoes, ripe strawberries, apples would be good, but who the hell knew what he’d do with the blonde cashier.

  Her would-be provider shrugged, and dropped the shirt on the counter. “The light finally left, but you slept for one hundred and eighty-eight minutes. I wanted to poke my fingers into you, but no-fun-girl said I’d frighten you. I worried you’d never wake up.”

  Damon threw himself down on the bed in a graceful sprawl, and leaned his shoulders against the headboard. “Did sleep help you understand what I am? Where my home is?”

  That feral aura of suppressed strength radiated from his lean body, and the craving for his fingers to explore every inch of her, had her reeling. Jaylynn must control her erratic heartbeat before he demanded to know what she was really hungry for.

  She smiled at him. “I don’t have a clue what you are.” Other than the sexiest male on Earth. “We need to reach a safe place. My ex isn’t home. He has a computer that would tell of current happenings worldwide. Maybe there’s others like you out there. But we don’t have a car. I think Albuquerque is over two hundred miles from here.”

  “I’ll get one.” Caream skipped for the door. “I don’t need keys. Wires should hook together like the police car.”

  Jesus, more grand larceny? “Caream, no. They’d trace us with the numbers on the license, and it’s not right to take someone’s vehicle.”

  “Let’s run.” Caream spun in a circle.

  “We can’t run two hundred miles. I could rent a car, but I’d have to use my credit card and the police…know we’re near here and will track us either way.”

  Caream danced in place, seductive and delightful. “Okay, no stealing. We rent a pretty car and I drive under the night sky. Let’s go.”

  Damon’s bark came right on cue. “No. Show me how to start the damn car. Caream, you sit in back. Don’t speak or touch for two…ten hundred miles.”

  One nimble leap and Caream landed on top of him, the comb in her hand. He snarled and caught her wrist while she pleaded, “Let me make your hair beautiful, and I’ll show you how to turn a key without breaking it.”

  Eyebrows knotted as if she was the most irritating imp in existence, Damon grunted and released her.

  One minute or two before Caream hit the floor? Caream played with the tangled, flaming mane brushing broad shoulders, while Jaylynn stared at the trace of dark red hair that flowed down his chest, a tantalizing path into his jeans, and Damon drummed his fingers on the bed. Ten more seconds and the comb snapped in his fingers as Caream went flying.

  She landed in the middle of the room and raised apprehensive eyes to Jaylynn. Caream worried she’d scream at the man grinding his teeth?

  “It’s just a comb,” Jaylynn said. “But please, please don’t destroy this room while I check out rentals.”

  Caream smiled at Jaylynn. “Order a pretty one, my color because I drive.” She snorted at Damon. “Impossible to make your hair beautiful, unless I change the awful color.”

  The air detonated blood red. Damon landed where Caream had been standing. Bodies twisted and blurred. He lunged for Caream who anticipated, less than a fraction of a second ahead of him to avoid his fist. The room flamed into a roaring blaze, a whirlwind dance of violence.

  “Don’t hurt her, Damon, please!”

  Caream froze, burnt air swirling around her. Damon’s hand jerked from Caream’s skull, and he slapped his thigh. He stomped to a halt by the door. His palm lowered to the center of the table beside him. Metal and glass shattered to the floor, and Jaylynn fought the urge to join the mess, grovel at his feet. Why was she always upsetting him?

  His voice dropped soft and dangerous. “I’m sorry I harmed you. I have said that forty-six times. You forgot I hear lies. I know Caream won’t show me how to hold a key, unless I shake her head almost off. You expected me to hurt her for bothering my hair? I’m that mean?”

  “Don’t be mad, she didn’t understand.” Arms out, Caream skipped toward him. She stopped, shoulders slumped as Damon stepped back. His hand brushed the wall; plaster crumbled, the hole large. A wave of bitterness crossed his face. His glare moved from his fingers to the women facing him. He flinched, his shoulders pressed into the wall as if he feared he’d break more than tables, walls, combs, cars.

  The gentlest, raging maniac Jaylynn could ever imagine and she had to do better for him, before he did kill from sheer frustration. “I’m sorry. You guys are unlike anything I’ve ever dealt with. I didn’t mean to act like—”

  “Let’s rent this car. Try to go one minute without lying to me.” Damon headed for his shirt. “Caream waits here.” He yanked the ripped shirt over his head.

  “No, please, Damon. You’re so conspicuous. Don’t forget, angry police search for us.” Jaylynn collapsed on the bed to pull on her sandals. “I need to go alone. I won’t take long.”

  “I don’t care about angry or happy police.” Damon glowered, his arms crossed. “Yes, I hear your fear of me, the demon, and I will listen. This time.” His harsh voice softened, and shivers raced along her spine. “If you don’t return here, where
I hide from police, I’ll stay where you can’t see me. Jaylynn? Will you take Caream to this computer?”

  Caream’s face twisted in a flood of panic. Jaylynn jumped to her feet and hurried forward. “I’m so sorry I called you a demon. Why can’t you forgive me?” She flung her arm around his neck. “Of course I’ll be back. Of course we’ll all stay together.” She tugged him down to kiss him on the cheek.

  Damon’s heavy sigh tore at her. Like a toddler afraid of abandonment, if he didn’t stop biting his lip, she’d kiss his mouth, and they’d never leave this room until authorities stormed it.

  She smiled at him, eased away, and grabbed her purse from the counter. “Just wait here. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Oblivious to her surroundings, the thrill he’d liked her kiss strumming from head to toes, Jaylynn walked around the building. The office door swung closed behind her as she entered, trying to look at ease with her wet, but well combed hair, bruised face from hitting the steering wheel—only yesterday?—and the state of Arizona looking for her.

  The attendant behind the counter popped a bored bubble of pink gum. 11 PM. Car rentals had closed. She could call a cab for her. The airport in Phoenix should have twenty-four-hour places.

  Phoenix. Another city close to two hundred miles away. Might as well take a cab to Albuquerque. That’d be an interesting ride.

  “Where’re you trying to get to?” A tall, younger man behind Jaylynn asked. The whiff of alcohol accompanied his steps toward her. Scruffy, stubble on his face, he eyed her up and down.

  “I thought about going home, had a fight with my husband, but I changed my mind.”

  The clerk cracked another bubble and waited to check the man in before going back to her magazine. Jaylynn shrugged, thanked her, and headed for the exit. The scent of tequila stalked behind her.

  “Hang on. Join me for a drink? The bar’s still open.”

  Jaylynn glanced at him. “No, thanks.” She continued out the door.

  Not a single rational plan clicked in her befuddled head, and room 198 loomed in front of her where two beings expected her to have enough intellect to help them. She sighed and pushed the door open. Her heart jumped, blood pumping in a joyous dance of “oh my god.”