Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1) (36 page)

Chapter One

Cleveland, Ohio

6 PM Sunday, July 10th

Red-Orange-Yellow-Green-Blue-Missing-Missing
.

The collage of hues on the monitor no longer mattered to Malcolm, while the hourglass image terrified him. Time haunted every breath he chose not to take as he scoured the net. Five humans dead and five colors accounted for. Yet the panic within him—the certainty he wasn’t strong enough—raised odds to 99.999 percent conclusive the numbers were off by two.
How had his supports managed not to leave a trace, a single footprint of Indigo or Violet, anywhere?

Human error, originating from a covert lunar base, seemed the most plausible cause of seven deaths, and leaving grieving families to conclude loved ones had abandoned them.

A tremendous power source, such as a solar flare, could have been the catalyst causing 631 terahertz—himself—to kill a man and take over his body, surging through flesh, blood, and skin, allowing the epidermal layer to shine a pastel shade of blue.

The buzz of an incoming text from the mobile beside his elbow drew his attention from the screen. At dawn this past Friday, five minutes before Malcolm James lost his life and his name, he’d received a text:
this is Lana can I see you again? No charge. Call me. Please.

Two further messages from the woman, and Malcolm had to rethink how reclusive the man had been. The content of the texts, along with consistent cash withdrawals, led him to conclude the banker had solicited upscale companionship. Apparently, an escort he’d been with on the last night of his life worried about his lack of response.

Three days old and counting each evaporating minute, Malcolm didn’t feel human enough to even contemplate interfering in his dead host’s past. One changed digit gave him a different mobile number, and he exited out of the phone records.

The ripples made by splintered energy continued their escalation toward catastrophe. Charges for numerous crimes were pending against Red, a.k.a. Damon, and Orange. But it was Jane Doe, renamed Narcissus or Narci, who’d left a tidal wave in her wake. The policeman who’d tasered her on Friday had driven two hundred and fifty-eight miles yesterday, determined to understand why she’d died from an electrical current, and why her corpse had disappeared from the morgue. The man had not been happy when Malcolm closed the door in his face.

The body in question lay under ice in the spare bedroom. Malcolm planned for five colors to be long gone before any authority returned with a search warrant, but he feared what the fiery side of the spectrum would make of the yellow part of their trio. At least the emerald sweetheart found on a beach across the country from Malcolm should be tolerable to any shade. Jade, their center, ought to bring out the protective side in alien as well as human.

Malcolm glanced at the digital countdown in the corner of the screen. Worry hummed within him, ear to ear. Reunite color, return to bigoted enlightenment, spare mankind—why was such a simple goal so damn difficult? He had to maneuver the father, child, and a teenager in love with lethal living-color miles from this house before humans were outnumbered by mutated superbeings capable of hearing the sound of a man soaping his skin in the furthest bedroom.

Finally, the splatter of the running shower ceased.

Finally, the snap of a jean buckle.

Finally, Aaron’s footsteps trod down the hall.

Two colors missing. Two expected to arrive within the hour. Malcolm would give the tall man standing at the end of the hall two seconds to take in the remodeling of the living room, before Malcolm kicked the humans out the door.

Aaron glanced from the black throw covering the couch, the black paint slapped over the prior muted blue of the walls, to the closed black drapes. In the final purge of objects, the blue vase, mouse pad, and teapot had disappeared. A non-pulsating, hundred watt halogen lamp—1850 lumens—sat on the end table. Three humans, along with Malcolm and Jade dressed in black, completed the illusion of safety.

Her skin that smooth shade of pastel green, Jade headed for Aaron’s opening arms, while Malcolm faced the child hovering beside the teen at the kitchen counter.

“David, take your dad and vacate these premises.” Malcolm hardened his voice. “Evan, drive them. Bye.”

“But I could help you,” Evan whined. “I should hold that taser. What if Red and Orange have abilities other than being so strong? What if Red is fascinated by, you know, bright blue blood?”

Malcolm unclenched his jaw. “Must I freeze your tongue to cease this constant arguing? Get out. Now.” The young man fixated with “helping” Malcolm would be the death of them both.

“Evan—no debate.” Aaron gestured for the door. “Don’t make me force you.”

“Yeah? Try it. You’re not my father, and I’m not a kid.” The impossible teenager turned to the color clutching Aaron. “What about you, Jade? Shouldn’t you abandon Malcolm, too?”

“Malcolm,” Jade whispered, “you think they’ll be like
her
?”

“How do I know?” he snapped. “I only managed to say this address before the cell phone cut out.” He’d tracked Jaylynn Kramer through the police network, finally making contact after her phone had power only to have it abruptly die, as if it’d been crushed in a red hand. That sound of metal being smashed would be similar…
oh my no—do I really hear that? Grinding gears?

And with that, Malcolm lost control. He slapped his forehead so hard, the echo rattled in the discord of his foolish brain. There wasn’t a swearword in Malcolm’s new vocabulary to express what the scrape of wheel against asphalt meant, other than he’d screwed up again. The approaching vehicle sped at an angle no human driver could handle.

All trace of his fear hidden, he stared at the innocents who may soon lay dead because of him. “I miscalculated. They’re here.”
Along with whatever residual personality problems they’ve inherited.
“Forget the back door, I don’t want to be separated if one chooses to follow. Stand with me, Jade. The rest of you against the far wall. Aaron, remain empty-handed.”
In other words, you idiot, don’t pull out that gun.

As expected, the humans rushed to obey. Jade did not. She retreated with David and stood with the child hiding behind Aaron’s back, while Evan halted by Aaron’s side. Worry radiated from the four beings Malcolm swore to protect as if he could possibly overpower the two colors coming to a crunching stop in the driveway. But surely, no shade was as ruthless as the monster hidden in the spare bedroom. He hadn’t found any deaths attributed to Red or Orange, only wanton destruction and a trail of chaos.

That could change in about ten seconds. Aaron had his revolver out of his pocket, pressed against his thigh. Apparently, the fool didn’t think superior senses included sight, or that a show of hostility would aggravate belligerent colors.

Malcolm threw up his hands, and then strode to open the door. What to say? Oh my, oh my, oh my—welcome to this house of liabilities? Thanks for joining us, don’t kill anyone?

“Please come in. We’re glad you’re here.” Malcolm stepped backward. He stopped in the middle of the room, taser in hand. He could hear the weakened breathing of the being in the lead, but not the stealthy footsteps.

Red materialized in the doorway.

Power—absolute and raw—slammed Malcolm in the face. Red’s explosive aura generated outward into the room, crackling with high-voltage energy. Damon’s height and physique compared to Malcolm’s own. Skin color that muted strawberry red, bright crimson hair, long and unruly, brushed his shoulders. Black shirt ripped, right shoulder injured, lean face drawn and tight. His eyes, hidden by sunglasses, scanned everyone gawking at him. The persona this color inherited—predator without tolerance? Red radiated aggression with every breath he drew.

The most powerful being on the planet stumbled, one step, into the room. Damon’s face flooded with snarling, hot anger, and his harsh voice barked, “Caream.”

And with her name, came a face.

Oh my-my-my—stop it—concentrate
. How could he? Orange would bedazzle the most fanatical of autistics.

Caream took her place at Damon’s side. She was petite, a few inches shorter than Jade. Loose black pants covered alluring hips, full breasts filled the black shirt with delicious proportion, and her seductive smile lit her waif-like face. Not a trace of fear, timidity, or incompetence marred those huge tangerine eyes glancing at everyone, before resting on Malcolm. A magnetic moment and bursts of interest pulsated along his stimulated nerves. He hadn’t realized she’d be so, well, intriguing. Caream reached behind Damon, their hostile outer whom Malcolm shouldn’t take his sight from, but the fiery young woman enchanted him.

A taller, exhausted human—Jaylynn Kramer—with shoulder-length black hair stepped between the blazing sides of the spectrum. Her expression apprehensive, Jaylynn’s face carried a wicked bruise. Drawn toward the intensity of Malcolm’s gaze, she clearly tumbled into his sapphire light, leaving him to accept the inevitable. With one look, another human had just joined the crowd leaning on him, a charismatic leader destined to disappoint.

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.