Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1)

by Arlene Webb

  “Just a guy putting things right. Be well.”

  Aaron pivoted with Jade pressed against him. His fear rushed them through the doors into the intensive care lobby. No margin for error, they must escape undetected.

  His back to them, David stood at the front desk and relief punched through Aaron’s chest. He bypassed his son and exited into the main lobby. When they’d reached the nearest elevator, he heard the pitter patter behind him. David almost caught up to them, and the weight within retreated even further. Aaron smacked the up arrow. He held the door open and glowered until the curious group exited faster. David scampered in. Aaron shook his head at the couple approaching and tapped the button to close the three of them off from the world.

  “Dad? What’s happened to you?” David’s voice cracked. Another reminder how young he was.

  “I’m fine,” he muttered. Finely fried, that is. “She saved the day.”

  Jade entwined her arms round Aaron’s waist, her face pressed against his side. David slapped the button for the pediatric floor, and Aaron motioned him closer. He plopped his arm on his son’s shoulders, trying not to lean.

  David reached for Aaron’s face. They both flinched as sparks jumped to David’s fingers. “You’re not fine! Your eyes look electrocuted. Jade, why’s he giving off shocks?”

  “I’m sorry.” Jade whispered. “Mal…Malcolm said he’d be okay.”

  “She hurt you?” David grasped Aaron’s arm.

  “Let’s say…you must never kiss her again.” Aaron swallowed and grunted onward. “Find a safe…human girl. Hands off, or I’ll be forced to use my newly acquired power. She’s mine. Not yours, or that blue—”

  Jade sobbed. “You think I’d hurt David? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Jesus, suck it in. Mission accomplished. Enjoy the ride into the sunset. “Sweetheart, really, it’s okay. Just a little hard to talk.” How he wished he could communicate without the mental fog.

  David glared at Jade. “He always jokes. Thinks he’s funny. Whatever you did, it’s not right. He’s never been this weird.”

  “David, enough. Speak to her like that again, I’ll show you goofy behavior.”

  The elevator came to a stop. David clutched Aaron and refused to look at Jade. As soon as he could handle it, he’d explain pre-teen rudeness. Not that it was a bad thing David feared neurotic angels. The son was much wiser than the father.

  They didn’t have to pass 308 and the medical personnel rushing toward the room, before they reached the employee’s access door.

  David kicked the exit open and stomped to the driver door, his belligerent lip pushed out. “I’m driving. I have before, when you weren’t home.”

  The kid’s attempt to take charge hit Aaron with a nauseous wave of pride—or maybe those eggs still fought to come up. “For the last time, I’m okay. Get in back.” He released Jade, and yippee, didn’t topple over.

  Close to tears, David stood his ground.

  “I can,” Jade whispered.

  The doubtful eyes of a twelve-year-old assessed Jade, and David grabbed Aaron’s arm. “Come on.”

  Jade gave Aaron an empty smile and a nod. He allowed David to lead him and stifled his relief.

  David opened the door and scrambled in the middle. “Your legs are too long. Get in or get in back.” He faced a parental frown with determination. “Would you hurry?” Aaron folded himself in while David grumbled, “I’ll make sure she’s all right. Right now you’re wackier than she gets. I could drive. I’m not just your little kid anymore.”

  The lead weight in Aaron’s gut disappeared, leaving vapors of nausea. “You’ll always be mine.” He swallowed and shifted his attention to Jade. “I only need a minute.” He leaned against the door. “We could get a room for a couple hours.”

  “Aaron…I’ll try to do this.”

  How could he, dominant guy and all, trust such an unconfident sweetie? Jade already maneuvered through the parking garage as if she had a caffeine IV in her arm.

  “You drive like a maniac,” he muttered. “Gonna plaster our brains all over this rental?”

  “I hope not. If Malcolm were here, he’d say we had none to worry about.” Jade’s timid smile shone so bright at him, Aaron prayed sunglasses and her scarf would disappear, that he and she would materialize to be racing through an emerald forest instead, their child chaperone safely elsewhere.

  David looked disgusted, certainly wishing he could smack the lust out of blackened dilated eyes. Aaron dug into his back pocket and clouted his wallet at David. And score for him, David’s lips twitched upward at his loving father.

  The man at the parking gate leaned to take the ticket, wrapped in dollar bills. “I wish they all were as pretty coming through here. He okay?” He glanced at Aaron and went back to gawking at Jade. “Should he be staying longer?”

  Jade shook her head. The man shrugged, and the gate opened.

  They soon reached the thruway entrance, grabbed another offensive ticket from the curious attendant, and rocketed west.

  David hadn’t said a word to Jade. He placed his hand on Aaron’s thigh. “Tell me what’s wrong with you.”

  “Stop it, son. We outside of Rochester?” Aaron cracked his eyes open.

  “Yes. Eighteen miles beyond the city limits.” Jade’s voice rang with the familiar anxiety.

  “Could you pull over before you start going a thousand miles per hour? I need to exit for a minute.” Aaron forced himself out of the slump.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Jade gripped the wheel, yet her pretty knuckles stayed green as she slammed off pavement onto the shoulder.

  Her ability to stop on a dime would fascinate him if he could concentrate on more than hard swallowing. He yanked the door open, ignored David’s frantic look, and croaked, “No, not you…back in a sec.”

  He made it the few feet from pavement to grass. Blackish green fluid splattered, Aaron emptied his stomach and felt instant relief. David grasped his elbow, trying to hold him up. Good parenting genes kicked in, and two hundred plus pounds didn’t topple to flatten the offspring. Aaron straightened and wiped his mouth. Life was good. An angel clasped his other arm.

  Aaron leaned on Jade and grinned down at David. “Look how much I puked. Must be a record. What? Never see your dad vomit before?”

  David refused to smile. “Actually, I haven’t. How do I know you’re okay?”

  Aaron knew the universal answer to that particular question. “Because I said so. Could you get me a water?”

  He inhaled deep, and nuzzled against Jade until David returned. He eased himself upright. “I’m better now.” Aaron caressed Jade’s arm. “I could drive.” He took the water from David, and looked at Jade. “How are you doing?” She waited for him to finish drinking.

  “He finds out that you drove, he’ll have a fit.”

  Aaron fought the ground swaying as he chuckled. “Yell at us until he turns blue?”

  “Dad, get in back,” David snapped.

  Jade tugged Aaron and opened the rear passenger door. “Please trust me.”

  The nausea had gone, along with the misery, but a bone numbing weariness filled Aaron. He tossed David the cell and crawled in. He stretched out, while Jade slid into the driver seat. “Okay, thanks, but you’ll stop for red lights, despite what you think of them? Want me to talk to you?”

  “No. Sleep. David and I will talk.”

  “Great. I lose face by puking in front of the most beautiful female in existence, so the kid moves in? David’s too young. I’m much cuter than he is.”

  Aaron quieted as Jade lowered the window. The wind made it impossible for a mere human to hear unless he bellowed. Soon, he’d demand David switch places. Super-dad only needed a minute, maybe two.

  * * *

  His dad didn’t flutter an eyelash when David lifted Aaron’s head and thrust the blanket under. After he crawled back over the seat of the speeding car, he punched speed dial. At least Jade had rolled up the window when he’d pul
led the cell out.

  “What?”

  Why should David bother with a hello either? “I want you to tell me—what—did she do to my dad? Will he die? I need to know!” Malcolm would be annoyed, but David didn’t care. That is, he hoped he sounded like he didn’t care.

  “Shh, child,” Malcolm said. “Despite your tones, I’m glad to hear your voice and the shallow breaths of an adult male sleeping. What makes you fear he’ll die?”

  David bit his lip. Child—he was sick of it. Would it be immature to insist he wasn’t a dumb kid? Yes. This was serious. His dad could wake up drooling, unable to make another juvenile joke again—or lapse into a permanent coma like mom had?

  “Inhale, David, and talk to me. Describe his symptoms.”

  David swallowed hard. “His eyes are black and weird like they’ve been electrocuted. Sparks came off his face. His skin’s hot. He threw up all this gross, greenish black water.”

  “Hopefully not in the car?”

  David snorted. “No, he asked Jade to pull over. Then he drank some water before he passed out. Will he be, you know, unable to tie his shoes or be a mutant or something?”

  “Child, please. Now I’m concerned that you’re the one who’s lost considerable IQ. Your dad was fated to meet splinters of a photon, but he wasn’t one of those who fell at dawn on Friday. So no, not a mutant, but oh my, yes, he’s an idiot. You understand what that man did?

  “Imagine being an empathic conduit for misery, and have a kindhearted sap such as your father embrace you. Jade’s light, for lack of a better word, carries a misguided dose of voltage. His symptoms are of a benign seizure. He should have no further physical problems, but certainly mental ones which I’ll discuss later, when that lightning rod of anxiety isn’t driving a ton of steel.”

  David’s fear melted away while Malcolm’s calm voice continued. “You’ve no idea how difficult this has been. I manipulated her into a nightmare with no seeable exit, and your father offered an escape. Jade, please. He’s a child trying to protect a parent from foolish choices. Could you at least try to control the tears?”

  “I’m not a child.” David really wanted Malcolm to get that, but there were more important things right now. “How do you know she’s crying?”

  “Jade weeping? As certain as the earth rotates, and she won’t speak to me. You’re almost to Buffalo? Please take the ridiculous toll charge slip for her. You’ll need gas. It’s unpleasant to handle alone. The trip was a success?”

  “Yes. We left a lot of confused doctors. The kid’s mother’s a very nice lady.” David swallowed for courage. “Malcolm, can I talk to you later?”

  “Of course. Jade, sweetheart, you also could try to claim maturity. Aaron will grieve if you make an issue. He offered, you took, you gave, now let it go. Hurry. I miss you. Bye.”

  David put the cell in his pocket. “I’m sorry.” Spit out two words, and his stupid eyes fill? Horrified, David clamped them closed.

  While his mom died, he’d imagined his tears dripped under his skin, a silent path to his stomach. For her, but not hidden from her. She’d been drugged out of it most of the time. He feared his dad would never make another silly joke again, if David made him sadder than he already was. There’d been days to practice, his stomach an ocean. But now, it didn’t work. Like a dumb little kid, he wasn’t cheering Jade up, but making things worse.

  Before David could redirect the river in his throat, the timid brush on his arm felt—really good. His skin tingled. Rays of warmth radiated from where a small hand clasped. Blinking, he opened his eyes.

  “Will you sit closer?” Jade whispered. “It’s not so scary for me then. Tell me things. Why do you like different music than Aaron? Why does your voice crack lower when you’re excited, and do your bones hurt when you grow? Will you be as tall as Aaron?”

  David slid down the seat. He’d keep her distracted. His dad would recover, and maybe he’d sleep all the way back to Cleveland. David would have time to get it together before his dad took one look and knew.

  He snuggled against Jade and rested his hand on her leg, kinda high up, but not too far, he wasn’t insane, just as dumb as his dad. He’d fallen in love with a non-human that wasn’t his mother, the sister he always wanted after a brother, but never got either, or a first grade teacher who’d accidentally given him a look down her open blouse.

  He’d hold this woman, secure and safe beside him, for every second he could. Without a doubt, David knew how irretrievably love could be taken away.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jaylynn stretched free from the security and safety of Damon’s arms, her legs stiff and ears ringing as the motorcycle engine quieted. Neither moon nor stars shone on the southwestern style ranch nestled in the outskirts of Albuquerque, and the two sets of fiery eyes that stared at her gleamed bright.

  “Wesley shouldn’t be here,” she said. “I’d like to use his computer and leave without him knowing. So please—skip the redecorating.”

  “No one breathes in there.” Damon slung his leg over the bike and slapped his feet down. “I wanted to…talk with this Wesley.”

  He scanned the house and sniffed? Memorizing ex-husband aroma? Nope, not even gonna ask. Jaylynn punched her birth date in the security lock. “Caream, could you bring the bike inside, so it can’t be seen from the street?” As expected, the garage door opened. Her ex was too lazy to change the code.

  Damon strode in while Caream wheeled the bike beside the black BMW sedan. Jaylynn hurried to open the kitchen door and beckoned her colors away from Wesley’s forty thousand dollar pride and joy.

  She flipped the light switch over the stove. The subtle glow lit the modern black and white kitchen. 3 AM. Time seriously flew when one was on the run. After four years, it felt eerie to be back in this home filled with happy and bitter memories. She’d slept two or three hours, wasn’t really tired, but dodging authorities while placating extraterrestrials contributed to the weirdness of it all. No matter how strange it was for Jaylynn, this reality undoubtedly bewildered her companions. Caream confronted the white tile beneath her feet and started to shudder.

  Damon raised grim eyebrows. He threw his arm around Caream. “This computer has answers?”

  “Hopefully. I have a surprise first.” She lead through the living room and slid the patio door open. The wooden deck, glass table, wrought iron chairs hadn’t changed. The water in the sunken pool rippled dark and cool in the night sky. She left the pool lights off, and held her breath.

  “Ohh-yes-fun!” Caream’s sunglasses hit the ground.

  Damon’s mangled pair landed neatly on the table. He tossed Jaylynn that grin that slammed the air from her lungs, strode to the edge, and dove straight in. Caream abandoned clothes and sandals where they dropped. With a stunning leap and twirl, she disappeared headfirst.

  Jaylynn smiled. Maybe she’d found a measure of peace for the incredible creatures relying on her. She headed back inside. An insight on what to do about Damon would be nice. Would he die because she didn’t insist on a hospital? Would she die if she did?

  Wesley’s empty phone charger, a twin to Jaylynn’s, sat plugged in on the desk. Unlike her, the organized bastard would have a spare charger with him. She hit the computer power button and decided not to sit there waiting for it to boot up.

  In the garage, she retrieved her purse and bag. Her dead cell, which she hadn’t powered down, was sure to contain messages from Mary dealing with the traumatized Bernice. If Jaylynn used the land phone, she’d leave a record for future police inquiries. Her cell jacked in, her stomach growled, and she raided the fridge.

  A turkey sandwich and a glass of orange juice later, Jaylynn needed a glance at her guests before she scrolled the net. She strained in the dim light at the pool’s edge for what seemed an eternity at the undulating water.

  “Damon? Caream?” Adrenalin roared through her veins, Jaylynn knocked off sandals and splashed into the cold dark. Heavy clothing dragged her down. What an idiot, jumping
in like this when she could barely swim. Good thing she had two sizzling saviors.

  Electricity encircled her waist. Damon lifted her to the surface. She took in the small hand brushing her arm, Caream’s beautiful wet face surfacing, and sighed with relief. “I thought you guys drowned. How can you stay under for so long?”

  Damon’s long hair shone black in the starless night, soft curls dripping against his face. “Sorry you were afraid—again. We were running.” He crackled current from his fingers through her wet hair. “I should have surfaced when I heard you leave the house. Drown means dead?”

  “Yes, stupid, if water fills her lungs, she’d die.” Caream helped him untangle Jaylynn’s braid. “Silly Jaylynn, our lungs don’t care about air or water.” Her large eyes sparkled with vivacity. “This is wonderful. I won’t let you drown. Come race with me.”

  Damon smacked the water, splashing Caream. “Go away. I found her first. That means she’s mine.”

  “Does not. You always hold her. Big dumb demon, it’s my turn.”

  “I want to get out,” Jaylynn said. “How was I to know you don’t breathe? What the hell are you guys?”

  “I’ve said this seventeen times. If we knew what the hell we were, I’d tell you.” Damon shook his hair from his face. “Thank you for this, almost clean, water.” He snarled at Caream. “Let go of her, before I see if I can bother a tree—in Arizona—with you.”

  “This is too much fun for your big mouth to ruin.” Caream giggled, she whipped strands of Jaylynn’s hair into Damon’s face. “Jaylynn, I’ll show you how fast stupid-head isn’t, when he’s done stealing you.” Without bubble or ripple to mark her descent, Caream vanished.

  There wasn’t time for Jaylynn to shiver in the breezy night air. Words to demand her release didn’t have a second to form before an onslaught of stimulation captured her, and any desire to return to solid ground incinerated. Seized in strong hands, pulled under with her chin cresting the surface, Damon flung his arm around her waist. Pulsating waves of warmth blasted through her clothing.