Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1) (31 page)

“Stop. Being. Afraid.” Damon’s eyes burned into her. “It’s stupid to hide in bushes. Unless they’re blind, they’ll find you. Try to understand. If police look at you like that creep in Show Low, I’ll listen to me, not you.” His sweet breath caressed her ear. “Only two. They’ve left the front, sneaking around the house. For you, I won’t kill. Decide. Drink air when I tell you, or let me do what seems right. Please pick me having fun.”

Why argue? It wasn’t like insane colors or the police would listen. There’d just be a couple more to add to the unconscious body count when they reached to cuff her. Yet, she had to try. “You can’t confront them. How—”

Damon’s grip tightened, his threat clear as his lips brushed her ear. “Drink air; then shut your mouth.”

She gulped and closed her eyes as they went down. Long legs wrapped around hers, and Damon soothed her head under his chin while Caream eased in to cling to her back. Pressed between the pair, they floated in place under ten feet of dark water.

Not a good swimmer, Jaylynn preferred to admire water from afar. If she ever had a past life, her phobia suggested she died a miserable death under a bridge somewhere. As air bubbled from her lips, she became distracted from the pressure to suck in fluid. Large hands clamped her face and angled her head. A slender naked body squeezed between her and Damon, and small hands formed a funnel between Caream’s lips and hers.

Air flamed into Jaylynn’s mouth, and her face lit on fire. Damon shifted his hands to her arms, and water rushed in to pacify the blistering sensation devouring her cheeks. He held her until her empty lungs wanted to scream again, and then he cupped her face.

Anticipation shot through her. Every care about police, drowning, thought in general went poof except for one electrifying insight. She no longer had to decide. Her fear over initiating more than a timid peck on his closed mouth had ended.

Aggressive and confident lips took hers. A wondrous taste, clean and euphoric flooded her—
more, I want more
—heat raced down her throat, scorching into her chest. The sharp tingle on her cheeks crossed from irritating into screaming agony. She convulsed and lost all the delicious air he’d given her in a gasping burst, while her heartbeat blasted toward detonation.

Damon’s lips fled, cool water calmed her face, and her head pressed into his chest. A powerful hand stroked downward on her back. Current fought against pounding blood, the constricting angina pain in her chest decreased, and Jaylynn collapsed into him.

Her heart settled. The electric burn on her face dulled to a sharp tingle, and it seemed an eternity had passed since the wondrous taste of red filled her mouth. The heavy, darkness of water oppressed her past the point of reason, and her lips parted. Damon shot his hand over her mouth and nose. Despite the futility, she struggled. Police or no, she wanted to surface.

She had no choice.

To her immense relief, finally, their intertwined bodies rose. Her lungs screamed. Damon freed her mouth, and thrust her head from the water. She coughed, spat, gulped the night, and opened her eyes. Damon’s eyes were the familiar shade of angry. His misery shone bright, and her frustration over almost being drowned evaporated. “Gone?” She gasped and inhaled another sharp gulp of yummy life.

“Yes. Went to get coffee and doughnuts. Plan to return for this stakeout. Why are they coming back?”

“I should have known they’d figure out I used to live here.” Unable to bear the brightness of his frustration, Jaylynn lowered her face into his neck. “They’ll have many weapons, and plan to watch this house hoping to catch us. We have to leave. I’m sorry.”

She lifted her gaze. His face blank, Damon swam and lifted her out to sit on the edge.

Caream surfaced by his side. “We want to stay. Why can’t we get rid of them? I can do it, and I won’t kill them.”

“You don’t understand. Many more will come if those two don’t radio in. They’ll keep coming until they capture or kill us. We have to get somewhere they can’t find us and get those bullets out of you, Damon.”

Damon grabbed Caream. “You ruined what time we had.” He smashed her under the water.

“Stop that,” Jaylynn snapped. “She didn’t cause this mess. You wanted to know what makes me happy. It’d make me ecstatic if you’d cooperate before it’s too late. We can find another pool.”

His eyebrows slotted into furious angles. “Yes, you’re right about that. Sorry, Caream, it’s not your fault the one who made these problems is too fragile to shake reason into.”

Me? My fault?
“Damon? I don’t understand.”

He snorted. “Me either. I hardly ever understand you. If you’d yell what’s important, I could.” His growl pulsated soft, deadly. “While I drive, you’ll explain where weapons are stored.
Many
weapons?
Many
will come? Teach me like you understand how to count. Explain like I’m not stupid. It makes me want to smash
many
down your throat. If you’re out of the way, I can knock out sixty to seventy men or women per minute. Less than sixty, if I take the bullets aimed at you, and the numbers improve, over two hundred—if I kill.”

Jesus Christ. From hard-on, drown, and then strangle the simplistic teacher in less than ten minutes
.

Damon yanked Caream up by her hair. “I said sorry. Get dressed.” He flung her out of the pool, avoided Jaylynn’s dumbfounded gaze, and disappeared.

She took a deep breath and pushed to her feet.

“Let him run.” Caream dressed in a blink. “Maybe he’ll stop being mean to you then. Big dummy is sad you want to leave.” Caream gestured Jaylynn into the house, boots and sunglasses in her hands. “Think we can find another pool with lights? It’d be easy to make them pretty. Best hurry. Damon’s right. Men act like that Creep-man; I’ll want to pop their heads off, too.”

Jaylynn forced herself into high gear. She bolted to grab essentials. So much for the computer. She clicked it off and grabbed her cell phone. While the garage door opened, she shoved three black towels and bottled water at Caream. “Let’s take the car. You can follow me on that bike. We’ll ditch it outside of the city, so the police don’t involve my ex.”

She rushed to scribble Wesley a note, saying she’d taken his car and to call her. The key dangled from the hook as always. She turned and lost all momentum. Gorgeously male, Damon strode toward her. Wet shirt and jeans hugged fluid muscle. Her face still felt charred, and she could feel the blush of heat grow across her cheeks.

She must have imagined the bolt of lightning inside her. Caream had barely touched her lips, but he’d actually kissed her. Those wild hands had touched her almost everywhere before he drowned her, and turned into a raging maniac about numbers. His lips snaked into a grin. Darkened red eyes caressed her. Without a word, Damon trailed his finger down her arm, clasped her elbow, and propelled her through the doorway.

Her scowl bright, Caream wheeled the bike out while Damon curled into the driver seat. His blistery glare focused on the key in Jaylynn’s hand.

She threw her arms around his neck and resisted the urge to collapse over him. She felt feverish. Not with desire, but like she couldn’t hold her own weight. “Please, I’m begging you. I don’t want to argue. Just get in back.”

His breath caught, a frustrated sigh blew from his lips.

“They’re almost to this street,” Caream called.

Damon pulled free and flung himself over the seat. He tossed the towels in a neat corner on the floor, and threw himself down. Wet clothes clung. Lounged against the leather seat—red and black—a wild form of beauty, ready to explode into bloodcurdling—

“We have thirty seconds before those two police are here. Don’t hurry.” Demonic eyes caressed Jaylynn. Damon sounded amused. “I hope to talk numbers.” That feral smile lit his face. “
Many
will come. Fun.
Many
arms will break. More fun. I’ll learn
many
details you think I’m—shut up yourself, Caaaream.”

Fear jumpstarted Jaylynn’s heart. Her hands shook the keys into the ignition. She slammed her palm on the remote clipped to the driver visor, and the garage door closed behind them. For the love of—damn mailbox. She almost clipped it. Debatable who’d bellow the loudest, her ex or the male snorting behind her. An urge to speed forward, ram it proper, brought a curve to her lips.

Jaylynn checked for flashing lights in the rearview mirror and jumped. She’d forgotten Caream on the motorcycle, could have backed right into her. How the hell was Caream not hitting the bumper of the BMW? Jaylynn sighed and took the hint to get a move on for the nearest side street. She curved down the lane and accelerated onto the main road.

The rush of escape, stealing Wesley’s car, kicking Damon out of the driver seat, wore off. Cold panic settled. The slightest thing would set Damon off, and she couldn’t keep dancing around explaining a deadly sin to him. Her desire interfered with her ability to think, but no matter how hard she fought to deny it, lust dropped low on her list of worries as nausea churned.

Wet, cold, almost paralyzed with doubt, she chewed her lip. Should she head down I-40 through Tijeras canyon, or maybe the less traveled Route 66, but then what?

The sprawling desert city fell away behind them, and Jaylynn continued east. The cops would follow from the west.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A miracle. Damon hadn’t grumbled since Jaylynn tore out of Wesley’s driveway twenty minutes ago. They neared the town of Edgewood, and she hit the brakes. Might as well get Caream and ditch the bike. Jaylynn swallowed back another lump of nausea and parked on the shoulder.

Sweet breath kissed Jaylynn’s cheek. “What’s wrong?” Damon rested his forearms on the seat. “Ex-husband food bothers you?” His warm, wonderful hand guided her to face him.

“My stomach’s a little off, but I’m okay.” Inches from his lips, Jaylynn struggled between wanting to do something to take away his anxiety, and a horrible, escalating need to vomit. The heave-ho won.

“Don’t worry…just be a sec.” Jaylynn stumbled out her door. She ignored Caream tossing the bag, purse, and atlas in the car and barely made it to the grass.

Sandwich and juice hit the ground, and the weight of sickness left her. Before she could straighten, her colors balanced her. “I feel better, now, thanks. Let’s get going.”

But, no puke and run. Damon gripped her elbow. Why’d he share such wild currents, yet Caream bruised? It’d also be a good thing if she understood her own problem. She hadn’t done the vomit thing since her divorce days.

“I hate when you lie. You’re not okay.” Damon tossed his hair back and rubbed his temple. Worry echoed from his sharp words. “I hurt you in the pool. Your heart wasn’t happy under water.”

“No, no. You didn’t hurt me. In about ten miles, there’ll be motels in Moriatry. Er…you’re starting to—”

He dropped Jaylynn’s arm. Rage filled Damon’s eyes, his glare on his hand. “Sorry.” He shifted his weight from one foot to another, like an anxious little kid. “Hospitals can fix this sick?” No pause, before his low voice softened. “Caream, you’ll hide. Jaylynn, I won’t let them poison you. Let’s go hunt one.”

“Forget the hospital,” Jaylynn said. “People…do get sick…” The relief on their faces was so sweet. Even better, her wave of exhaustion dissolved as Damon lifted her into his arms. Caream opened the door, Jaylynn collapsed into the back seat, and security and warmth deserted her as stress slammed back. Damon stood by the window, glaring at Caream in the driver seat.

“You can be a fool,” Caream hissed at Damon, “and break this car too, but you should try and fix her. She likes your ugly, hot hands.”

“You fix her. I won’t break this car. I will break you. Why do you always get to drive?”

“Why do you always make her cry?” Caream turned the key.

Why do I always feel helpless?
Jaylynn couldn’t stop shivering. And dammit, her empty stomach churned.

Damon threw himself down beside Jaylynn and slammed the door so it bent into its frame. The thought of Wesley’s face, his baby with even one scratch almost made her nausea settle.

Caream accelerated east. The interstate belonged to them in the quiet predawn hours, and the dusty high plains flew by increasing Jaylynn’s dizziness. Except, maybe it wasn’t the scenery, but the guy beside her. A creature of power, deadly ability, and stubbornness to rival Attila the Hun had picked her over the driving obsession. If not for the chills going through her, she’d melt into a puddle of happiness.

Jaylynn fumbled with a towel, and proactive male hands seized her. Damon pushed her across the seat on her stomach and pulled her legs over his lap. Electricity penetrated clothing. The back of her shirt and her jeans became fresh-from-the-dryer toasty with two strokes, and Damon flipped her. She clamped her eyes closed. Bright red spots merged and coupled into lines behind her eyelids.

As supernatural fingers deserted her dried hair and face and lowered, Jaylynn began to sizzle with anticipation. Her breathing quickened as her stomach clenched, and Damon’s gentle caress froze above her breasts. She managed to lift trembling fingers to grasp his arm.
Innocent sweetheart
.

He settled his palm, flat and still, on her stomach. As soon as she relaxed her breathing, Damon pulled her into his arms. He held her in a cradle of warmth, his hands secure on her arms. Patience wasn’t in Damon’s character. Confused, he’d blame himself. She had to talk to him. Jaylynn lifted the ton weighting her eyelids, and stared up into beautiful, worried red.

“I’ll try harder not to make you sick,” Damon whispered. “Why… Caream, what’s that noise?”

The music stopped. Caream held up Jaylynn’s ringing cell.

“Let me answer,” Jaylynn muttered. Stuck dealing with the town gossip, Mary had to be frantic.

Damon settled her on his lap and reached. Caream let go of the BMW wheel, traveling a billion miles per hour, to hand the mobile toward Jaylynn.

Jaylynn slapped Damon’s wrist, took the mobile, and flinched as he balled his chastised hand into a fist. She smiled, collapsed against him, and clicked to open the call.

“Please listen carefully, Jaylynn.” A soft, cool, masculine voice flowed in her ear. “My name’s Malcolm. I hear two like me with you. I need their help. Where are you?”

Oh. My. God
.

“How do you know them?” The phone shook in Jaylynn’s hand. “Who are you?”

Adrenalin exploded through her veins. She sat up. This man knew of her colors. He was another one!

“Jaylynn, a beautiful name. Let me clarify. I’m like them, and have accepted the name of Malcolm. I’m in Cleveland, Ohio, a house, 55 Tanglewood, off Bainbrook drive in Chagrin Falls. I’ve traced you through the police network. Where are you, and why do you sound so fatigued?”

“Outside Albuquerque, but the police—” Current flooded into her arm. “Damon!”

“Don’t touch that,” Caream yelled, while Jaylynn’s hand emptied.

“Malcolm…where’d he go?” Damon thrust the phone back. “Sorry. Fix it. Hurry.”

Unreal. Damon’s thumbprint had pressed into the casing. The indentation didn’t go that deep, yet the phone seemed inoperable. No power to get the number out of memory, nor could she remember caller id. Maybe lack of charge had killed the cell, not just from being short-circuited by the redhead shaking with frustration.

“Not your fault, Damon, I think it needs a recharge,” she said. “Wow. Malcolm said he’s like both of you!” Exhaustion crept back over Jaylynn. Blackness edged her vision. “He can’t call me until I get this worthless phone working. One of you remember the address? We could stop and ask information, but I don’t know his full name. Cleveland is east…can’t be that far. Should we drive there?”

“Yes.” Damon bounced in place, his eyes lit with anticipation. “Malcolm. Cleveland. I don’t smell him anywhere. When I drive, will we get there in five minutes?”

“We might reach him in four minutes,” Caream’s happy voice floated from the front, “if you, Stupid-Breaks-Everything, shuts up about driving. I’ll find Cleveland on the atlas. Wish I could talk to him now. Maybe this Malcolm knows why we’re here and how to get back. Give Jaylynn some water, she smells wrong.”

Another color! Er…what?
“I smell bad?”

“Not bad, wrong.” Damon bit the top off a water bottle and enclosed Jaylynn in his arms. He held the jagged plastic to her lips. “Malcolm didn’t lie, but he’s confused. He can’t be like
us
. I hope he’s like me, not ugly Caream. He isn’t confused about wanting help.” Lovely water tipped down her throat. “This takes too long. I’ll listen for him. Swallow again, Jaylynn, and stay quiet. Caream, you shut up all the way to Cleveland.”

Good to know Malcolm spoke the truth. A police trap hadn’t entered her mind, when the thought of another—what color? Hopefully not puke green or something. For some reason, sapphire sparkles played behind Jaylynn’s closed eyes. Wonderful cool tones, Malcolm had a compelling voice. It didn’t seem possible the ultimate lie detector, holding her snug in his arms, could isolate that voice across the continent.

A moment later, Damon groaned and freed his arm to rub his head like he wanted to rip it off. “Millions of men, but I failed. Can’t hear him. I’ll keep trying. Jaylynn, you rest. I won’t have to listen to you yelling when you’re sleeping.” His arm went back around her, and Damon grumbled on. “It’s taking forever to find Cleveland. Malcolm needs help, but I sit here doing nothing.”

He quieted, distracted by Jaylynn’s shaking hand as she took the mangled water bottle from him. She forced another gulp, leaned back, and the bottle slid free. He caught it, and flung the plastic at the driver.

“Damon, it’s many…sorry, around a thousand miles to Cleveland.”

“Sleep. We’ll locate this Malcolm.” Damon soothed her eyes closed. His seductive breath filled her lungs. “I made you stay under that water too long. Have to be more careful, keep you safe from me…”

A masculine lullaby whispered in her ear, while feathery current played against her stomach. Damon’s hand slid under her shirt to lie flat. Warmth flowed over her skin, his arm tight around her.

* * * *

Bright sunlight slapped her face, and Jaylynn wondered why she lay on the backseat of a car. Memories flooded back. It hadn’t been a wonderful, horrible dream. Parked in her ex’s stolen BMW, not a clue where, panic set in and Jaylynn jerked herself up.

Gas station. Damon had his backside to her, less than fifteen feet away. A large, elderly woman held Jaylynn’s purse and stood with him beside a deep green pickup. Damon held the woman’s arm. His vivid hair whipped to the side, he cracked a grin at Jaylynn, and her pulse quickened. He turned back to the woman and said something to make her laugh.

Jaylynn ran her fingers through her tousled hair. No yelling or guns firing, and Damon smiled while the daylight sparkled around him. Maybe something terrible wasn’t happening or about to. Maybe no one screamed because the attendants were already dead.

Maybe she should snap out of the maybes, and open the door before her warrior crushed it.

Damon yanked her out. “Jaylynn, this is Lydia.” He gestured at the elderly lady. “She’s the most pretty woman I’ve ever seen. Did you know there were people this safe?”

Lydia appeared almost blind behind thick black-rimmed glasses. She held a cane and stepped forward to lean on Damon’s arm. Jaylynn’s smile widened. The woman wore a burgundy dress. A red scarf covered her head, not a single wisp of white hair, or any hair, stuck out. Her gnarled face was twisted with age, her smile wide and toothless, and her wrinkled skin was flawless ebony.

“Your strong husband is something else.” Lydia peered at Jaylynn. “He worried you’d get angry if he went inside to find food that you…er…wouldn’t vomit. My grandson brought some stuff to settle your stomach.” She handed Jaylynn her purse. Damon caressed Lydia’s fleshy arm and stared down at the woman through the shades.

“He won’t answer why his skin’s so red. Not that it doesn’t look very fine on him.” Lydia cackled with glee and slapped Damon’s stroking hand. “And what’s with the little orange woman? One look, my grandson’s in love. You’ve a very interesting family for a white girl.”

At the pump, Caream talked with a gangly animated boy, not more than sixteen. The mesmerized teen held a box of crackers and a bottle of ginger ale. His dark eyes were glued to Caream.

“Jaylynn, she’s not mean.” Damon’s gaze roved past Lydia’s dark face, up and down her ample body. “She’s too beautiful to leave. Can we keep her?”

Jaylynn gulped. This delighted old lady didn’t realize he was dead serious. “You can’t have every lovely person you find. Sorry.”

Oh dear. Eyebrows knotted, lower lip pushed out, his foot stomp would come next.

“She has a family who needs her. Will you be okay if I go inside for a minute? Please don’t do anything you shouldn’t.” Like kidnap a two hundred pound octogenarian.

“Sweetie, you’re playing with fire leaving this gorgeous redhead with me.” Lydia laughed, large breasts shaking. “Go, young lady, I’ll keep him company.”

“Playing with fire?” Damon’s two second, toe bouncing dance dropped Lydia’s jaw. “Explain. Then tell me why everyone isn’t like you and the man with Caream.”

Jaylynn knew exactly what his rub on the woman’s arm felt like. The scent coming from him was another reason Lydia smiled. And wow, speaking of enchanted, Damon looked so happy. Not only did he find Lydia attractive, she hadn’t yelled at him or mauled him. Priceless to him, like words, water—suppose Lydia has a lighter?
Hurry, you idiot.

On her way to the restroom, Jaylynn passed an older guy talking to the younger male attendant. Pasty Caucasians, they stared through the large window at Damon and Lydia.

A rack of sunglasses stood on the counter, but it’d be insanity to contemplate sacrificing a minute to buy a few dozen pairs. She shouldn’t be leaving Thing One and Thing Two alone as it is, and no Cat in a Hat could control those two.
Malcolm? You ready for us?

Jaylynn washed her hands and studied herself in the mirror. She looked like crap. The facial bruise from whacking her steering wheel had blackened, but she still couldn’t compete with a black-skinned great-grandmother. Jaylynn shoved her broken comb back in her purse and managed not to hit the roof as the door slammed open.

Damon strode in. Familiar waves of hot anger vibrated from him. “We must leave. Yell later.” He yanked her to him and whirled her out of the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lydia was afraid. She cried.” He propelled her through the station. “I said yes, we’d flee damn police. Again.”