Read Online Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1) by Arlene Webb - Free Book Online Page B

Jaylynn said, Demon.” The stranger wearing shades spoke in a growly voice that flowed with authority. He gestured at the green light. “Go.”
    Kevin began driving. “Okay, um…where you headed? You know your door’s open?”
    The stranger grasped the door handle, and Tim wasn’t the only one hallucinating. It looked like the man smashed the door back into its frame. The strange dude began drumming on the dashboard.
    “Like the tunes?” Kevin asked.
    The man lit with sparkles of vermillion joy and nodded.
    “Yeah, it’s old but good,” Tim said. “What’s with the truck you were in?”
    “Truck music hurt head.”
    “What? Don’t like redneck? You’d think being red and all.” Kevin laughed, pounding the steering wheel. “Why are you all red? You in a movie or something?”
    “Don’t know. Drive faster.”
    The vibrant man crackled with energy. The muscles in his arms flowed with coiled strength like a…did red panthers exist? Wild. Kevin pulled his stare away to concentrate on driving. Jesus —weed laced with what? Mushrooms could send crimson dots dancing through your vision. My every breath feels, yeah, like electric . The air in the car now smelled, tasted as he imagined a radical current would. Intoxicating, powerful, and it pulsated—Kevin was sure—from the red dude, not the stuff in the ashtray.
    “Your name’s Demon?” Tim seemed unable to stop giggling. “What kinda name’s that? Some sort of evil cult here from hell to kill? You foreign or somethin’? You mean to say Da Mon, right? I’d hate to share a ride with a satanic dude.”
    To Kevin’s fascination, a sigh like a huge weight had been lifted, escaped the man. His grin sharp, he seemed pleased with Tim’s switch of his name. “Damon? No kill. Thank you.”
    “We’re going to Phoenix. Where you headin’?” Tim asked.
    “Home.”
    Tim snickered. “Seriously, where do you live, Mars?”
    No answer. The man began to hum, low and eerily beautiful. Had to be the weed. Kevin grinned. “Okay, Damon, you’re the man. Phoenix, here we come.” The twisted mountain road took them south, leaving Payson, rednecks, and reality in the dust.
    Ten minutes later, Kevin and Tim sang while Damon drummed a perfect beat. Kevin decided to see if the dude, who refused to answer why he looked like he did, wanted to groove before they reached the city. Wheel in one hand, he took the joint from the ashtray. When Tim flicked his black lighter, the man’s smile widened. “Damon like fire.”
    “That’s sweet. A pyro. You’ll like this stuff even better.” Kevin took a drag and started to hand the joint over.
    The agitated guy sniffed, and then the air detonated with hot anger around him. Brow furrowed, Damon vibrated with violence. Crap! Postal over a freakin’ joint? The smoke came out of Kevin’s mouth in a coughed gasp.
    “Too much bad air,” Damon barked. “Make go away.”
    “Sorry? Doesn’t smell right to you?” Kevin swallowed hard. Damon had been acting so cool, glowing with exhilarating energy. Kevin was positive anyone that into it would appreciate the addition of smoke to the music, but Damon…Demon changed. Instantly.
    The snarling stranger tapped the passenger window. Shatterproof glass shattered and hit the pavement. He leaned over a terrified Tim, ripped the joint from Kevin, and flung it into the night.
    “What’s your problem?” Tim slammed against Kevin.
    Kevin hit the brakes. For the first time in years he—he wanted his mom to tell him what to do.
     
    * * *
     
    What was their problem? Damon hadn’t smashed ugly faces, only the window. He’d ignored the wrong scents when he first got in the car, but that much bad smell was intolerable.
    He didn’t care when the large one in the red-neck-truck—which didn’t make sense because it was an ugly-green truck—had been afraid. He didn’t understand many of the words it yelled.
    Damon wanted to rip its head off, like the fragile thing wanted to do to Damon.