Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1) (16 page)

They left the water running and gave the beautiful fire everything they could find.

The circle of light in the sky shone halfway down when they ran out of fire-food. What wasn’t food had been thrown outside or lay crumbled in the living room. Damon stared at the damn door. They’d already burned the water-room door. He ignored his constant shoulder ache, yanked the door from the wall, and began pulverizing the wood.

After the fire gobbled it, Caream pouted. “Want more. Damon? Why fire in small room?”

“Don’t know.” He scanned the wood structure all around them.

They went outside through the opening where the water-room damn door had been, to avoid the mess where the other damn door used to be.

Chapter Fifteen

Time to close the bookstore. Bad enough she had to work a Saturday, but Jaylynn found herself more irritated than usual by an excess of customers. Why didn’t they order online? An excellent business plan, if she didn’t mind living on tea and rice. She couldn’t tolerate one more raised eyebrow at the sight of the fist shaped bruise on her face, the result of hitting the ditch and kissing the steering wheel.

Her sprained arm remained untreated. She had no motivation for a hospital trip. All she wanted was to get on the net in the privacy of the house. Maybe there’d be something about demons infiltrating this isolated area, where pines reigned over concrete. A Google search on lunatics who’d give a Feng shui designer a serious migraine? A search for super-strong pyromaniacs who didn’t speak English? Surely she’d get some hits.

She jumped and yanked her vibrating cell from her pocket. “Hi, Mary.”

“I heard on the police scanner, a cabin’s on fire close to where you went off the road. They’re freakin’ out. Payson might be evacuated. Talking arson. If the wind changes, it’ll engulf Pine. Got insurance on that store of yours?”

Jaylynn hurried her friend off the phone, wondering. If not for her car and arm, she might be able to convince herself last night had been a dream. Could the fire be connected? Surely the red man had gone back to hell in a puff of—
oh damn
. Not even Dante could dream up a tenth layer suitable for her kidnapping demon to work in, and Jaylynn’s adventure seemed so surreal. She had to conclude she’d suffered some sort of reality break.

Maybe she should admit, at least to herself, that her fiery hallucination had kindled the beginnings of an obsession. When he’d carried her through the forest, returned her to her car, she’d been unafraid for the first time. He’d held her cradled in a powerful cocoon of warmth. Her attraction made no sense, because if it hadn’t been for the red-eyed maniac, she wouldn’t have needed to find her car to begin with.

She flipped the “open” sign to “closed.” Why feed her fixation? Forget imaginary layers of hell, or surfing the net for now, and think about actual food. Groceries were still on her to-do list.

She hustled through the bookstore and into her connecting home, while punching numbers into her cell. If her car was done, she’d truck into Payson and see if more than a cabin burned. Not as if she’d be in the way. Fire trucks or cops would come the other direction from Phoenix.

Frank answered on the third ring. “Yep, car’s drivable, but I had to order some parts for the dashboard. Never seen a steering wheel snapped like that. What the hell happened to you?”

Crap, even the mechanic suspected she’d fallen into Satan’s arms. “You don’t want to know. See you shortly.”

On the way to her bedroom, she unbuttoned her white blouse. She should be going to a shrink, not looking for trouble with a red capital T, and using shopping as an excuse. Better yet, she’d brushed with a demon. Her agenda ought to be joining a church. Still, for evil, he’d been very—oh yes, back to the shrink. Was this what it was to be schizophrenic? The memory of his touch almost made an incurable disease worth it. Electric magic hands—
shut up, girl
.

Painkillers dulled the throbbing in her arm, and Jaylynn managed to pull the black tee over her head, then down. She patted her black pants’ pocket, compulsively rechecking for her cell.

It was only a few blocks to the garage in the afternoon heat, Frank’s flirting didn’t take too long, and he said he’d finish the repairs next week. Small cities had their merits. Not like Albuquerque, her prior home. She’d never have gotten next day service there.

The charming town of Pine faded in the dust behind her, and she reached for—the power button for the stereo no longer existed? Every knob seemed to have disintegrated, including the one for the air conditioner. Jaylynn sighed. With insanity to worry about, who cared about a hundred degrees Fahrenheit in the shade? She debated whether the dry air blasting in the open passenger window cooled or simply annoyed her.

* * *

Damon heard the sirens long before the vehicles on the ground arrived. Caream by his side, they watched in wonder as a whirling machine in the oppressive sky flew closer and closer. From forty feet high, it hovered and dumped some sort of liquid that smelled like water. The drops landed, a spot hit on top of the cabin feeding the fire. The front wall of the cabin collapsed and smashed down the bike.

As the second machine dropped its load, Damon realized he’d made a terrible mistake. They’d destroyed their shelter from the light, and in four minutes he’d be outnumbered. For some reason, twenty-three approached from within the trees. The labored breathing sounded like men, and they dragged something.

Fluid cascaded from the air-machines, the beautiful flames rose to meet the liquid, and their union made Damon clench his fists. Fire and liquid disappeared into dead wisps.

The light, trees, sky, metal in his shoulder, it all added to a frustration that a confrontation would ease. His problem? The girl beside him. Thoughts of metal hitting Caream worried him. Thoughts of not fighting infuriated him. Thoughts that twenty-three men wouldn’t want to kill him were stupid. So many conflicting ideas hurt his head.

Damon started toward the flames to save the motorcycle. To his aggravation, Caream grabbed his arm. Tiny feet dug into the dirt, and she burst into howling tears. One smack knocked her to the ground.

He yanked her up and shook her. When she shut her mouth, guilt bothered him, like when he’d broken Jaylynn’s arm. He hadn’t meant to be the mean man. His whack upside his head tugged a smile from Caream, and a brush of his fingers through her hair calmed her.

Hand in hand, they turned. He shook free as they fled for the shelter of the trees. When they reached the road, Caream looked up at him. Damon stood still and listened until his head screamed. Many noises, too many to count, and all wrong. Forget listening. He drew a deep breath. Finally. Very faint, far away, he found the scent he wanted.

His feet exploded in happiness. His arms and hands joined in. He danced and ran at the same time.

* * *

Oh, oh, oh, it can’t be
. A couple raced toward Jaylynn, a blur of speed not even Olympic runners could maintain.

Impossible. Red couldn’t be real. A petite, very orange woman, also dressed in black, ran by his side. Stopping for hallucinations wasn’t—did she have a choice? Red shot across the road. One powerful leap, he crouched on the hood, demon eyes hidden by broken glasses.

Jaylynn slammed the brakes and came to a squealing halt. Before she’d stopped on the shoulder, black boots entered the passenger window, and that ninja body poured onto the seat. Her mouth fell open in disbelief.

His smile vanished. Knees toward her, long legs crunched, he drew his shoulders into the closed door. “Stay, Caream. Wait.” He flung his hair back, and that scowl filled his face. “Jaylynn afraid. Confused. Caream won’t hurt Jaylynn. Want Damon gone?”

Caream? The woman with orange hair and skin?
Oh my God, another color?
But where’d she go? Jaylynn glanced at the empty road behind her, and then her gaze snapped to the visible fantasy only an arm’s length away.

Her demon bit his lower lip—like a little kid, to keep from crying? Because he’d frightened her to death. He shifted to pull himself out the window.

“Don’t go yet.” She threw the car in park—
oh Jesus
. He shone more vibrant than ever as the afternoon sun glittered on his grim face. He’d stopped chewing his lower lip, but he drew a bitter sigh. Waves of charged energy rolled off him, sparking red. His bright hair flowed like a cloud of fire and looked so beautiful against the black shirt. He curled in the passenger seat, pressed against the dash and the crack of the door.

“What um…are you? Who’s Caream? Your name’s Damon?”

“Don’t know what um…are.” He took his hand from the dented window frame. “Tim said not Deeemon, but Daaamon. Want Tim not afraid, so no more Demon. Kevin said help at psych hospital. Damon went. Won’t go back.” He grunted and loosened his fists. “Damon learn not to break Jaylynn. Okay? Damon not mean-cruel-Demon?”

I can’t answer him
. Her throat closed up. Simple things like talking and breathing were impossible, while she fell further down the acid trip. How could she dream up such an exotic creature as the one who peered into the window at…Damon?

Good God—tangerine delight.

Demon or not, Red snarled at the orange creature dressed in an oversized, silk chemise. The lovely little thing leaned through the window and pushed against his shoulder, obviously wanting him to sit on the seat, not skulk against the dashboard.

“Damon found Caream in psych-unit.” Damon swatted the woman from his arm.

Awesome. Even my hallucinations are nuts
.

In an agile scramble, Caream crawled through the window, threw slender arms around Damon’s neck, and leaned into him. She stared through sunglasses at Jaylynn and blew away any remnants of the line between reality and delusion. Short delightful hair, creamy skin, tiny hands and fingernails, shades of orange were everywhere.

Crimson detonated and Damon ripped Caream from his neck. He angled her legs to avoid hitting Jaylynn, and thrust the woman into the backseat. He curled backward and his blow snaked, knocking Caream down. “Jaylynn breaks easy. Stay. No talk.” He crouched into the doorframe. “Jaylynn says mean. Hurts Damon’s demon head.”

Jaylynn fought her fear. So what her apparitions multiplied? She must defuse the fiery one too close to her. Damon looked miserable, rubbing his temple. His shirt had a small rip in the right shoulder, and that smear on his arm had to be crusted blood.

“I don’t mean to hurt your head…Damon,” she said. “I shouldn’t have called you a demon. Sorry. Is your shoulder hurt, too? Maybe I should get you to a hospital.”

Her heartbeat stuttered. Rage darkened his eyes. “Hospital no good. Forget shoulder. What is Damon?”

Jaylynn swallowed hard. “I-I don’t know. Does Caream know?”

“No. Caream’s stupid. Like Damon, but not beautiful. Jaylynn not afraid of Caream. Help Caream?”

“No-no-no.” Caream slammed against the seat, lips quivering, and honest to God, orange tears slid down her thin face.

“She’s from the psych ward?” Jaylynn asked, stalling the woman’s howl. No way would this enchantress allow the red man to leave her, at least not quietly. “Can she speak English?”

“Yes. Try to listen. Stupid girl likes Damon to talk. Damon said shut up. Caream bad. Damon angry.” He leaned forward with his hand raised—
Jesus!

He froze. With an exasperated snort, he inched his fingers toward Caream. He understood she feared he’d hit Caream?

Caream slapped his hand from her face. She took her sunglasses off.

Damon grunted, shot backward into the door as far away as he could get, and wiped his hands on his jeans. He looked like he’d bolt any second, as if he couldn’t tolerate either woman much longer. Jaylynn tore her gaze from red.

Beams of light spilled from Caream’s eyes. Her long, exotic lashes looked black on the top and orange underneath. Her delicate, unhappy face radiated beauty. Enthralling, laser eyes enhanced by unshed tears. She smiled, hesitant, as Jaylynn gawked at her. The smile lit her elfin features. Unbelievable.

“Jaylynn afraid of Damon? Caream afraid Damon leave,” the woman grumbled in a soft, lilting voice. “Damon stay with Caream.” Her lip curled, so similar to Damon. “Damon want Jaylynn not afraid? Stop yelling.” She beamed that seductive light at Jaylynn, leaned forward, and grasped Jaylynn’s hair. Black strands curled around her tangerine fingers. Jaylynn reluctantly shifted her examination from the young woman with irresistible orange eyes. That low rumble from the redhead wasn’t good.

“Jaylynn won’t stop water from eyes,” he snapped. “Damon red-eyed Demon. Jaylynn not afraid of ugly Caream?”

Caream giggled. “Caream is beautiful. Damon
is
red-eyed, big, dumb…” Caream choked at the cold look on his face. “Sorry. Caream stay with Damon. Caream stay with Damon. Caream—”

“Shut up,” he barked. “Damon break arms, legs, not wait for Caream.”

Oh Jesus, was he serious? “Calm down,” Jaylynn said. “Please. What do you want me to do?”

“Teach why men mean. Want to fight. Damon wants to kill.
Demon
will. More coming.”

“Not,
Demon
, no. Daaamon needs help. Hurt.” Caream’s luminous eyes pleaded with Jaylynn and yes, that sound would be approaching sirens.

“I don’t know how to help, but I’ll bring you somewhere until we can figure it out.”

Jaylynn started the car. She took an abrupt U turn and sped for Pine. Damon shifted to sit on the seat correctly, still pressed into the door, maximizing the distance between them.

“That looks like a bullet wound. What happened?” she asked.

He sighed. “Man want Caream have clothes. Damon put him in the closet. He found Damon. Gun hurt Damon. Can’t stop Damon. Nothing can. No man takes Caream. No psych center. Will rip mean head off. Damon want kill hospital. Damon want kill Mom. Jaylynn, where’s Mom?”