Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1)

by Arlene Webb

  “Stop where you are. Are you burned? What-what happened to you?”

  The officer’s next thought had to be that she’d fallen into the twilight zone. Vibrant long hair, smooth red skin maybe explained by dyes not first degree burns, and that aura crackling with aggression. Lit with a scowl that’d strike fear into the devil, Damon strode closer.

  “Calm yourselves, or I’ll have to knock you both out.” Eight feet away from the gun aimed at him, Damon halted, and Jaylynn accepted an undeniable fact. Something wiggled in his shirt.

  “I’m warning, stay where you are.”

  “You’ll shoot me like mean men?” Damon barked at the officer. “Not stab me like a drunken woman? Do all police wear that awful color?” His rough voice grew excited. “The little ones have almost finished crying. Smoke made them stupid. They don’t understand they’re safe now.” A sharp grin filled his face. “Thank you for finding us. I’ve waited forever to talk to police. I won’t kill you. If you point that gun toward Jaylynn, I will hurt you. Give it to me.”

  The officer’s hands shook. “Drop what you’re carrying. Put your hands in the air.”

  “Please, I can explain all this.” Jaylynn stepped forward. The air flashed crimson, while the sound of gunfire blasted through her skull.

  The bullet went wild. Damon stood between the officer clasping her wrist and Jaylynn. He held his shirt out with one hand, what looked like a police issued weapon in his other, and his furious howl rent the air. Damon’s foot came down, sending tiny cracks through the pavement. He opened his fist. Bits and chucks of the demolished gun fell to his feet.

  “Police weapons are fragile like everything else.” Damon snorted. A couple graceful steps in reverse and he pushed Jaylynn further back.

  The frightened officer unclasped her taser.

  “Sorry I broke it. Are you threatening the little ones or me?” Damon snarled. “Toss that new weapon to me and any hidden under clothes.”

  What exactly had he saved? Jaylynn crept closer to peer around his arm—oh, Jesus Christ. Brown mice, a dozen or more, squirmed over each other. Tiny beady eyes shone terrified.

  Damon twisted from Jaylynn. “Don’t scare them.” His hidden glare spun to the policewoman. “Hurry and finish whispering for backup. Give me that different gun. I don’t want to hurt—stupid girl, I said no.”

  The woman collapsed. Jaylynn could now see Caream lifting the officer from behind, a rag doll in her arms. She carried her to the patrol car, dropped the woman in the driver seat, and settled her head back.

  “Why don’t you listen?” Damon stomped and pavement cracked. “Give it. I’m the boss of all weapons.”

  Caream closed the patrol car door and tossed the taser. With an annoyed grunt, Damon leapt to intercept the weapon headed for Jaylynn.

  Like a kid at Christmas, his grin wide, Damon opened his hand—the taser was dented. More cracks splintered through asphalt as his boot came down. Mice still safe in his shirt, a soft moan of frustration escaped him. He aimed the weapon at the ground…and crushed it. He flung the lump of deformed metal down, chewed at his lower lip and turned to Jaylynn.

  “Yell for what Caream did after your heart’s fixed.” He glowered. “Caream, can’t you do anything right? You threw too hard. Not a knife, but maybe another gun.” He brushed specks of taser from his hand and sighed. “Jaylynn, she’s breathing. Police sounds better than you. Tell me what to do with these little ones.”

  Caream approached Jaylynn, her lilt nervous. “It doesn’t make sense fire’s so beautiful, but it steals air from anything that can’t run. You’re not glad we saved them?”

  Jaylynn drew a deep breath. “We need to leave.” She added another felony to her mental list, the price for rescuing a bundle of mice, the punishment either life or the death penalty. “You just surprised me. I thought you’d gone to rescue children.”

  What was the lesser of two evils, a vehicle littered with rodents or Damon snapping the steering wheel off Wesley’s car? Tough decision. “We can stop by some trees and let the mice go. They’ll be safe there, much safer than here. Please, Damon, get in and hold them until we reach the trees, okay?”

  Damon stared at the flames. “Caream’s right. It’s sad that something beautiful kills anything in its way.” His grim voice softened. He jerked his gaze to Jaylynn. “That’s why police want me dead. I let the fire at the cabin escape. I killed—many—little ones?”

  “They put the fire out and…I’m sure nothing died.”

  “Why can’t you remember not to lie?” Damon snapped. “Was your brain broken under the water, too? You know I’m a murderer, but you don’t want us sad.” He sighed. “Let’s go. Two minutes, before that backup arrives. We run from the police, again.” He stepped toward her. “Take them.”

  “Damon, I’m sorry. I know it’s quite stupid, but I…er…don’t like mice. You best carry them.”

  His jaw dropped. “You’re not lying, trying to distract me into not driving.” His growl rose in shock. “How could they hurt you? They don’t like you, either. We can’t take forever to find Cleveland. Malcolm needs help. Get in. Would you hurry if I let the mice touch you?”

  She scrambled while Caream started the car. Insane woman, demonic protector of little creatures, enchantress, and many squirmy passengers were on the road again. At least the mice wouldn’t want to drive.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  No one commented on the siren blaring while they exited a crime scene through an alley. They zigzagged through the streets, motorists and pedestrians a blur. Jaylynn leaned into the front seat, listening to Caream.

  “I’m sorry you expected we were saving little people.” Caream hesitated and then blurted, “We left a man in there.”

  “Couldn’t you help him?”

  “Even in clean air he wouldn’t breathe,” Caream said. “He smelled bad, drunk like I was. Should we go back and get him?”

  “No reason to bring him out if he was already dead.” Jaylynn smiled at Caream. The usually cheerful girl seemed worried. “You want to rest, and I’ll drive?”

  “Caream won’t drive much longer. Find this tree.” Damon smacked his boot on the floor. “Even if he lived, it wouldn’t make sense to save a nasty drunk but not little mice. That’s almost as unreasonable as being afraid of them.”

  Jaylynn avoided looking at the frustrated man beside her with his squirming bundle. A blurred billboard informed her they exited St Louis, Missouri, its population now minus a few rodents. They sped east on interstate 70, weaving around afternoon traffic on the straight four-lane, only five hundred or so miles from the holy grail of Cleveland. Tree after tree stood between the fields of tall corn and summer wheat. Any of the farms would be a perfect home for city mice.

  She rested her arms against the front seat. Her colors were not happy. Caream chewed her lip and sighed. The light poured in, despite the towel blocking the side window, and that low rumbling growl could no longer be ignored. Jaylynn turned.

  Jesus! Sunglasses were off and the air crackled. Damon’s eyes weren’t the bright vermilion when he was calm, nor were they the darkened shade heightened by his desire. Demonic red glared—at her.

  “What?” Jaylynn drew a shuddering breath, lessening the tight ache in her chest. Damn, it hurt having a heart attack. Hopefully she’d not have another without a half second kiss to make it worthwhile.

  Damon jerked his head to stare out the window. “If I’d listened to all the fighting, frightened, sad, dying, big and little creatures, my head would explode. I don’t understand who I can help. Sorry. Hard to bypass beautiful flames and the tiniest cries.” He turned to rake his gaze, an electrical storm of reds, over her. “I can’t solve a problem. If I make you more afraid, you’ll break. But I told these little ones I’d help.”

  Not a good sign, his aggressive voice had softened. “Do I hold mice you fear until Cleveland? To make you happy I don’t drive? I won’t allow them to cry forever. I’d like to throw them—and Caream—out th
e window.”

  “I don’t hear them.” Jaylynn’s fatigue swirled around her. She felt the tears welling. “You look at me like you hate me.”

  “You’re crying. Again. I should throw myself out the window.” Damon scowled at the bundle in his arms. “They want to go home—like I do. So far, one thousand, two hundred and forty-six trees have been within twenty feet of this road.”

  Home? Where I’d never see you again?

  Damon abruptly stiffened. Caream whipped around to stare at him.

  Panic flooded his eyes. “Jaylynn? Can I push air in the one who stopped breathing?”

  How strange could life get? Would he go berserk if a mouse died? She had to forget rodents were low on the evolutionary plane. Jaylynn leaned to see. The mice were all jumbled together. “They look alive and fine.” Now, she could hear the frantic squeaks. Their tiny black eyes shone terrified, their gaze darting from her face looming over them. She jerked back. “Maybe they need to hide. Caream, we can stop at any tree.”

  Damon snorted. “Too late.” He turned and opened his shirt into the trunk. Mice scurried over each other in frantic haste, except for one. It curled limp in the bottom of his shirt.

  “Want me to stop?” Caream twisted in her seat.

  “No.” Like he lifted a molecule of air, Damon picked up the wilted body. He placed the mouse in his palm, flipped it onto its back, and drew his little finger along the furry, tiny thing. A large red tear splattered on his arm.

  One hand on the wheel, Caream held out her other. “Let me try.” Orange tears slid beneath her sunglasses. In the midst of high drama, who dared ask the driver to watch the road?

  Damon repeated the finger stroke, paused, and let out a childish gasp. He lifted his hands over the seat, and thrust his caressing finger and the limp mouse so Caream could see. The tiny creature shuddered and rolled to its feet on Damon’s flat hand. Bright mouse eyes flew open and focused on their staring faces. The petrified rodent froze.

  Caream didn’t slow the speeding BMW, and her ecstatic smile lit the world. “You fixed him.”

  Damon drew a harsh breath. “Jaylynn, you’re trying to kill him again. Go away.”

  So not a problem. She cringed back, and the mouse leapt to land on Caream’s arm causing her to shiver with delight. Caream’s eyes filled with that exotic sparkle. If her face were the last thing Jaylynn saw before they slammed into a fiery car wreck, at least she’d die within the light of such unearthly beauty. The little mouse scurried, soon camouflaged in Caream’s bright hair.

  Damon stopped grinning at Caream. He turned…to face the firing squad? He expected Jaylynn would chastise him because he’d let loose a large family of mice?

  “You saved its life. You’re amazing.” Jaylynn smiled into his relief and turned to Caream. “I don’t think you should drive with a mouse in your hair. You could sit back here. You and Damon play with them while I get us to Cleveland.”

  She swallowed. As soon as she said the d-word, the low growl started. “Stop being mad at me,” she told Damon. “Rescue all the mice you want, but no driving—”

  Cut off again, enclosed in those arms.

  “Why play with mice when I can hold you?” Damon’s lips brushed her forehead. “When you laugh without ugly crackers, it’s a beautiful noise. Silly without stupid ginger ale makes me want to drink you.” He glanced wistfully into the trunk. “Hiding from the light with you to distract me from needing to kill you and Caream would be a good plan, if your heart were reasonable.” He grinned. “Stupid mice don’t like you, but I do. Jaylynn, twice I breathed for you. In the pool and this trunk. Why’s your heart so fragile? Why do you never answer?” He paused. “Oh yeah.” He moved his hand from her mouth.

  “Damn you.” She smiled and leaned against him. “You want to torture me in the trunk with all those little beady eyes watching. If I say yes, it’d cost you—a lot.”

  “Cost?”

  “Oh yes. Here’s my terms. Not another word from you about driving. Before I crawl in, without you dragging me, you’ll promise you’ll hide with Caream in that trunk, while I get fuel at the next station.” Not a grunt, sigh, snort, or foot stomp, yet. She might as well go for broke. “You can’t get out, no matter what, until I drive away. It’d be nice to make one stop without a fight. And no more yelling and arguing. You’ll behave, and never growl—”

  Damon tightened his grip on her arm, and turned the threat into a caress. “The price isn’t fair. If you promise five long minutes without being afraid of something, I’ll agree to this cost.” He sighed. “Caream, drive faster to a station. I don’t understand why he hides from Jaylynn under ugly hair. Let me hold him. My big head has more hair than yours.”

  “Caream, don’t listen to him. What are you going to name your little friend?”

  Damon barked a laugh. “His name’s Little Stupid. He must have ruined his brain in the smoke to like Caaaream.”

  Caream grinned at Jaylynn. “Can I call him St. Louis? How do I take care of him?”

  “Louis is a perfect name. Don’t worry. All he needs is water now and then.” Jaylynn giggled. “And crackers to eat with his mouth open.”

  “That’s easy.” Damon scowled. “There’s over a hundred crumbs from the mess you made.”

  A glimpse of a billboard while Caream spun off the interstate placed them in Vandalia, Illinois. She exited onto the side road, the gas station visible. “We’ll wait in the trunk.” Caream stopped, shifted into park, and scrambled over the seat. “Damon agreed to your cost, but I didn’t. I think I can hit now without breaking bones.”

  “That’s why you promised.” Jaylynn fought the urge to smack the man facing her with resigned stoicism. “Neither of you ever listen. There won’t be any trouble if you both just stay hidden.”

  With the precision of an experienced teen, Damon rolled his eyes. He lunged into the trunk to join Caream, Louis, and company. Jaylynn hopped out to slide behind the wheel, and proceeded to the gas station. From the pump, it looked like one male attendant and two women were inside. She might as well take the gamble and go inside to pay cash, instead of swiping her credit card. Wanted felons would appreciate some water, and she should eat more. Only crackers had stayed down in the past two days, but the dilemma of what wouldn’t gross out the tornado twins, especially if Jaylynn vomited again, left her exhausted just thinking about it.

  A record five minutes, and she carried three waters to the quiet car. Why contemplate the mouse-infested trunk, when one could fixate on reclining in there with the sexist male on the planet. Another lick of her lips confirmed his wonderful taste had gone. Face facts, girl. She had a death wish. Damon had given her a heart attack, a seizure or something, and the moment she had a bit of energy back, she yearned for his kiss again.

  Que sera sera. Maybe Malcolm had answers. Jaylynn clung to the memory of his calm, confident voice. If he shone as bright as the seductive beings she’d found, she was in deep trouble.

  “You guys okay? Louis still back there with all his pals?” Jaylynn started up the car. “I got more water. Wait another minute, while I get onto the interstate.”

  By now she should expect it, but again she jumped when electricity teased through her hair.

  “Shh, careful of that heart,” Damon muttered. “No one watches us. Caream, get up here, or my payment for not driving will include strangling you. Bring Stupid Louis.”

  Jaylynn swallowed her sigh and pulled over.

  Louis on her lap, Caream soon had the engine pushed to its limits as they hurled through the farmlands and small towns of Illinois. Damon polished off the water. The plastic bottle fell neatly onto the floor with its top bitten off.

  “I guess I should get in first?” Jaylynn faced the gaping hole. Did mice have anything to do with the black plague? Damon might care if she called it the white plague.

  His hand shot out, stopping her. “Forget it. I’ll pay your price. Caream drives even though I should.”

  It was so sweet how Damon wor
ried about her, as the daylight poured around his tense face. What was the deal? Like a starved vampire, blood excited him. But Caream also hated daylight. Besides, vamps that fried in the sun weren’t real. This gorgeous guy next to her couldn’t get more alive.

  “No, its okay. You’d like to get out of the light. But the mice will stay away, right?”

  The amusement on his face was worth a billion rodents. He even waited for her to crawl into the trunk. While her eyes adjusted, he dropped beside her. His breath had to be worth never seeing a sunbeam again.

  “There’s a surprise.” Damon pointed to a spot of light entering through a small mouse hole in the corner. “They wanted to leave, except Stupid Louis. Eleven mice have to find a new home at that station. There weren’t mean men, drunks, or police. A tree lives twenty-six feet away. Think they’re safe?”

  “Yes. They’ll be very happy. Thank you for the lovely surprise. What’s one tiny hole in a stolen car?”

  “Are you safe in this dark with me, the killer of cabins and hearts?”

  “Stop that. You aren’t a killer. It isn’t so bad in here.” She shifted, giving him more room. “Lie on your back and stay still for two minutes.” A deep inhale of his intoxicating scent, and she dared to continue. “We must remove those bullets when we get to Cleveland. I saw fresh bleeding. I’d like to lift your shirt and check.”

  “Your cost was I couldn’t argue. That’s difficult when you worry about pretty leakage. If you won’t explain why ex-Wesley, police, mice, me, dark, air, everything frightens you, you shouldn’t talk.” He reached for her, and settled her into his side, her head on his chest. “I like being your pillow. Do whatever you want with my shirt. My price—I lift yours all the way up. Then explain why that worries you.”

  She giggled against him. “You’re impossible.” Might as well dive in. “Wesley isn’t that bad. Things just got strange. Especially when he drank too much, had problems at work, and decided he needed a girlfriend.” She fell silent, and Damon’s hand slipped under her shirt.