Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1)

by Arlene Webb

  Malcolm forced the tremble from his fingers. “Thank you for finding us. I’m Malcolm. Jade, Evan, Aaron, and David are behind me.”

  Damon took in the dark, colorless room and his grim face smoothed. “Malcolm, how’d you get that police weapon? I can take it from you.” His hand shot out to clamp onto Caream’s shoulder. “I will take the bullet gun. Soon.”

  Bullet gun clutched tightly, Aaron’s sharp inhale rang audible to beings of color. But a ray of hope existed. Mesmerized by Orange, frightened of Red, determined to please Blue, Evan remained silent. The youth had a tendency to blurt multiple questions, and this reunion between confused colors was problematic enough.

  “Stop being afraid,” Damon grumbled. “I won’t kill anyone. I will break bones if the man raises that gun. Be careful of Jaylynn. She’s fragile. Malcolm, touch the one named Evan, and I’ll put a blue tongue in that freezer. Why isn’t he allowed to speak? First, toss me that police weapon and explain how it works.”

  Unbelievable. Damon had hearing ability far surpassing Malcolm’s. They’d been at least thirty miles away when he’d threatened Evan. That type of auditory concentration would tie up a considerable amount—fifty to sixty percent of brain function—leaving a dismal few neurons for rational thought.

  The fear within Malcolm coiled as tight as the testosterone-laden muscles readying in front of him. If he held the taser for another second, he’d lose it. Red would hear the tiniest of bones crumbling while he pulverized everyone in this room.

  “Please.” Malcolm threw the weapon on the couch. “A taser is more breakable in your hands, Damon, than a cell phone or a woman with a fresh bruise upon her face. Also, if used incorrectly—it’s deadly. Continue to threaten us, I will stop you.”

  “Please. Try. It’ll be fun.” Damon’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie again, Malcolm. No weapon, no color can stop me. I said I wouldn’t kill, so it doesn’t make sense to be afraid. Your heart’s broken. I can’t hear any beat. How’s that possible? Who hurt you?”

  “No one in this room. I command my impulses and request you do the same.”

  Damon’s fists balled, his frown deepened.

  “Don’t.” Caream slapped Damon’s arm. “Try to be nice. He’s just saying, in a dumb way, that he’s learned how to not breathe.”

  Oh my. Now Malcolm’s heart refrained from thumping with joy, instead of panic. If Damon could detect the fear in his tones, could Caream sense the emotion she stirred within Malcolm? Fine. Challenge on. He’d prove the ultimate controller of emotion could out bluff the predator with astonishing senses, and the most enchanting of colors. The stakes were high—hearts pounded erratically behind him.

  “Malcolm, stop not-breathing like you’re the boss of invincible.” Damon pivoted to kick the door closed. Malcolm fought his flinch as cracks splintered through the frame. “Jaylynn fears you. She’ll yell at me if you hurt police to get that taser. Did you?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Jaylynn placed a possessive hand on Damon’s arm. “I’m Jaylynn, as you know. This is Caream, and the surly one is Damon.” She released Damon and stepped forward.

  One handed, Damon lifted her off her feet and back, his lip curled at her groan. “Stay here,” he commanded both women.

  The sight of Mister Invincible, Jaylynn’s weight as negligible as a butterfly, had the males behind Malcolm struggling for air. Then Caream smirked at Damon and strode forward, seductive light in motion, and the hard swallowing from the humans bothered Malcolm’s ears.

  Caream scooped up the taser from the couch. “I won’t let him touch this. Damon does break everything.” She examined the weapon and tucked it into her pocket.

  “Right. I should start with an orange neck.” Nostrils flared, Damon drew in the air, and Malcolm’s hope they could peacefully integrate evaporated. Damon, uncontrollable violence in motion, lurched out to grab Caream. “Do what I tell you,” he barked and shoved her forward.

  Malcolm bit off his impulse to insist Jade come forward to his side. The acronym, WIMP, began looping in his thoughts; Watch Idly, Malcolm Pulverized. He couldn’t erase his jaw twitch, the slight jerk as Red and Orange loomed in front of him.

  Bitterness flashed across Damon’s face as he took a step back, and Malcolm stifled his gulp of relief. That retreat, combined with Red’s irritation, showed he had compassion, limited but there, for Malcolm’s fear of him.

  “Watch him,” Damon barked at Caream and sprang toward Aaron and the damned revolver.

  I’ll protect–I’m a useless liar.

  Caream grasped Malcolm’s arm.

  “Oh my, please. Don’t touch me.” The shockwave of her bruising grip made his knees weak. “I won’t move.” Another falsehood. He’d soon crash to the floor. She released him, and he turned from her puzzled stare. “Damon, leave them alone. I’m begging you.”

  Jade shivered behind Aaron and Evan. She clutched the wide-eyed David, a child who shouldn’t be anywhere near neurotic color. Aaron didn’t have time to flinch before Red struck. Evan gasped as Damon clamped onto his shoulder. Damon’s other hand encircling Aaron’s arm would have a grip that threatened every bone in the human body.

  “I won’t kill her or touch the little one. Stop hurting your hearts.” Damon’s arrogant growl made it difficult to comprehend. His childish words were meant to reassure?

  Damon’s abrupt shake forced Aaron to drop the revolver. Damon released both men, caught the gun, and reached for Jade.

  No-no-no…

  Jade sobbed. Damon clenched his fingers into a fist, and dropped his hand to smack his thigh.

  Malcolm allowed his heartbeat a skip of hope. Red showed extraordinary impulse control, along with intense curiosity. Damon dropped his chin. He stared at the revolver that lay across his palm, held carefully as if it were made of crystal, before the mercurial color’s attention swung back on Jade.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Damon barked. “Hiding behind men doesn’t make sense. Stop hurting the little one.”

  Stop hurting the little one. Malcolm lost control of respiration. His hard swallow of relief brought the smile back to Caream, making his head swim with tangerine delight.

  “Jade?” Damon grunted. “Can’t talk? If Malcolm took your tongue, I’ll shove his down to his toes. Open your mouth. Let me see.” His boot tapped, sending cracks through the oak floor. “I said, let go of that tiny man. Did you make him that small?”

  “Sweetheart, I asked you to stand by me,” Malcolm said. “Damon, Jade’s just frightened, and David’s but a child. Please don’t touch her or our friends again.”

  “But I didn’t touch her.” Damon scowled. “She doesn’t explain this fear soon, I’ll do a lot of touching.” An arrogant flick of Damon’s hand, and Jade abandoned the humans.

  Malcolm opened his arm. Pathetic little neurotic Jade cringed at Caream, and flung her face into Malcolm’s stomach. This integration of personalities was taking longer than he’d anticipated. On the upside, Damon seemed to have some handle on his strength, and Caream appeared willing to back off. The downside, was Red a total idiot?

  Damon stuck his finger through the trigger slot and lifted the revolver to peer down the barrel. Aaron drew a deep breath, and Malcolm kept his mouth closed. Perhaps Damon would listen to a parental voice before Mister Invincible blew a hole into his damn face.

  “Lower that,” Aaron snapped. “Don’t point it at yourself. Your shoulder, you’ve already been shot, surely you understand. Know what a gun is.”

  Damon glowered at Aaron. “You think I’m stupid? Maybe I am. I can’t understand hidden fire, fragility, where stored, how many. If I point this at you, will you explain?”

  A hint of a smile played at Aaron’s mouth. “No to both questions. Please. Put it down before you kill yourself.”

  Damon sighed. His lower lip trembled. “No lies. You’re the first man who carried a gun that hasn’t wanted me dead. Try not to change your mind. Try not to yell at me worse than Jaylynn does. Can you help? I n
eed metal cylinders. Bullets. A hundred would be a good start. How do they fit in?”

  “Er…the six bullet chamber’s full. None fired, and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want you to harm anyone, including yourself. Can I have that back before you do?”

  “Why are you starting a fight?” Jaylynn inched into the room. “He’s right. You’re gonna break it, or kill—”

  “Want to sleep in the ex-husband-trunk, Jaylynn?” Damon’s free hand flew to rub his temple. “I said, stay there.” He twisted to stare at her. For the first time, a flash of fear crossed his face. “Okay, sorry, I’m cooperating.” Damon flicked his palm out, and the revolver flew upward toward Caream.

  A calculated risk, Malcolm reached to intercept the weapon over her head, and Damon smacked Aaron in the chest. All three humans behind Damon now, his hand clamping onto Aaron’s elbow steadied the stumbling man. If Malcolm moved this weapon a fraction of an inch toward Jaylynn in the doorway, Aaron was the chosen hostage to be harmed.

  Carefully aiming at his foot, Malcolm lowered his arm. He took Jade with him, a step back from Caream, and nodded his gratitude at the scowling redhead. He could grow to care for this outer arc of a fractured photon whose first impulse was to protect, not rip Malcolm’s head off.

  He could not only care, but also grow in other ways for the color anxiously eyeing him. “For use it should be cocked, like this,” Malcolm told Caream, “and then a slight touch on the trigger will fire it. Be careful.” He uncocked the weapon, handed it to her, and curved his arm back around Jade. Interesting. All this touching and nary a thought about suicide.

  Caream glanced at the revolver and added it to the arsenal weighting her pockets.

  “I didn’t hurt you,” Damon grumbled at Aaron. “Why are you afraid? Call me a freak if it helps. Yell too much, I’ll whack you unconscious.” Damon released Aaron and turned on Evan. “Did Malcolm freeze your tongue? Or Jade’s? Talk.”

  Hundred percent odds, I’ll regret this. Malcolm nodded at Evan.

  “Of course not.” Fear and curiosity filled Evan’s sweet brown eyes. “Malcolm’s the coolest guy in the universe. Jade’s just…well, she took a while to talk to me too, and I was nice to her, not like…um…what are you? A fire god? Your hand felt really good, hot, but like you’d split me in two with a little squeeze. Ungodly strong. More than…um…never mind. Do you know how long we’ve been trying to find you? Did you kill a bunch of cops? Why—”

  “Jaylynn,” Damon barked, “I want to knock Evan out. Don’t yell. I’ll choke the um-never-mind problem from Malcolm. I think it’s down that hallway.”

  Evan blanched. “Malcolm? He serious?”

  “I’ve no doubt that he is. Quiet now,” Malcolm said. “Damon, try to relax. There’s no one here, unstunned, who’d harm a…darling woman who brought you and Caream to us. And I’d appreciate if you’d not threaten the young man who’s been hindering me since day one of this existence. The problem you scent, know that it’s intolerable in that room. Evan or Aaron could bring—her—out here.”

  “No lies this time from you, Malcolm, and I promise to harm the men and that Jade, but only kill you. I won’t touch the littlest man. So, relax yourself.” Hostile Red glanced around the dark room. “You can’t distract me by hiding colors. I want every weapon. Aaron…” Damon stiffened, his attention swinging past Aaron and Evan.

  Aaron’s heartbeat stuttered as David placed his hand against his father’s back, and Malcolm fought to maintain his composure. Taser confiscated, he had nothing but reason to use against the paired Red and Orange. The absence of any support, the weight of four colors relying on Malcolm kept his stomach churning as the strongest raked his gaze over the most vulnerable.

  “You’re David. Who damaged you?” Damon sighed and rammed his fingers along his temple.

  “No one. Why?” David squeaked.

  “You look too fragile. Even Caream, a girl, is bigger than you. Sorry I let that crying Jade crush your hand. I won’t kill the ones protecting you. I have said this already. What’s your problem?”

  “I’m not fragile,” David’s voice cracked, “I’m just twelve. My dad doesn’t have any more guns. What’s your problem? Why are you so mad?”

  “A too little problem is you.” Damon snarled. “I haven’t touched you, but even your words break, afraid of me. You don’t lie about dad and guns, but maybe just-twelve—whatever that means—doesn’t understand hidden weapons like knives. Wait. I’ll get another problem.”

  Damon glared at Caream. “Watch them.” He bolted down the hall. The sounds of crumbling metal reached Malcolm’s ears.

  “How many times do I need to show you doorknobs?” Caream’s gaze rolled to the ceiling and back.

  “Shut up, Caaaream,” Damon bellowed. “Malcolm, how could you? This room is awful.”

  “I repeat,” Malcolm said. “Evan would carry her out here.” He smiled at Caream. “You understand the language he’s swearing?”

  Caream’s grin sent his hormones surging. She shook her head—and lost her sparkle.

  Damon stomped back into the living room to toss Narci on the couch, ice cubes on her soaked, tee-shirted chest. With a sharp tug, he yanked the blue rope off. He flung it behind the couch, lifted her head by her hair, and then dropped her. The last of the ice fell with a pleasant clacking onto the floor. Damon shuddered, rubbed his hands on his jeans, and didn’t hesitate.

  One red hand encircled Jade’s arm, and the other took Malcolm.

  The jolt of power burned into him. Horror of contact sent Malcolm’s nausea spiraling, and he surged within his body in a frozen attempt for control.

  Hopeless. Malcolm couldn’t speak. Damon’s wavelength sizzled through any numbing burst Malcolm radiated. If that searing grip round his neck tightened a fraction, his head would pop off.

  “Interesting color, that rope.” Damon lifted Malcolm, one-two-three feet, into the air. He snarled. “She’s dead.”

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005MYADOW