Silver Blood (Series of Blood Book 1) by Emma Hamm (android e book reader .txt) 📗

creature to consider themselves something so dreary as monotone. But humans wanted to tell whether a creature was good or evil. Demons or Angels seemed to fit these unknown possessions.

That was two hundred years ago, which leads us now to this moment in time: Rupert, an overweight man with a constant sheen of sweat on his brow, asking Wren, a tiny and currently purpled-haired woman, for something they both referred to as “Juice”.

When Wren was born, she discovered that she possessed an unusual talent for creating emotions. This talent turned into a passion for creating a drug known as Juice, which is sold to the general public. When magic entered this world, it brought with it the most incredible substances.

Wren sold these drugs under a license provided by the Magically Ordained Magistrates, or M.O.M. as they were affectionately known. They were the current government and had recently enforced a mandate stating that emotions must be carefully sold to the right people at the right time.

Emotions can be dangerous things after all.

The tiny woman in question had a talent for creating emotions she had never felt before. The Juice Bar was not the only place in town that sold Juice, but it was the only place where one could buy strange and exotic emotions.

Which was precisely what led Rupert to her door to begin with.

He was categorized into the bulk name of Demon. If one dug deeper into his genealogy, he was in fact a Satyr in a human host.

Many unfortunate humans found that the effects of the magical community could show on the human bodies they possessed. Some would find themselves with horns or scales. The lucky might even find themselves with wings.

Rupert was never going to be an attractive human, possessed or not. He was greasy and didn’t take care of himself. This could be seen in the pot belly that hung over the edge of his too tight pants. The Satyr had gifted him with large ram horns that sprouted out of his forehead and tucked back underneath his skull.

These were never meant to be grown on a human body, and Wren frequently flinched away from him in disgust. The skin at the base of the horns was red with veins running away from it. Infected, as it was, Rupert was usually caught scratching at the worn skin. Thankfully, the Satyr inhabiting his body was also a decent healer.

Satyrs were classified as Demons as they were not the kindest of creatures. They tended to use magic to sway people into their beds and were usually successful at doing so. This was precisely why Wren tried to avoid him at all costs, and why unpredictable was not something she wanted to add to his list of faults.

“You can’t afford Euphoria,” she said as she flicked hair out of her face.

“Tonight I can.” He placed a few coins onto her counter and sat down. His elbows, braced against the counter, left smudges when he moved.

Wren snagged the coins with a sigh. There were so many things in the shop that needed to be fixed, she couldn’t say no to any money. However, Euphoria was not something she wanted to give to him.

“I have to know why.”

“Can’t a man buy a gift for a friend?”

“Not a Satyr.” She flicked the towel in her hand at him. It caught on one of his horns and hung comically across his surprised expression before he tore it off.

“I have a lady friend who wants it.”

“I’m not helping you to steal a lady with a little Euphoria, Rupert.”

“She’s already in love with me!”

Wren snorted.

“I wouldn’t lie about love.” He appeared genuinely insulted. “I’m a Satyr not a Incubus.”

Wren assumed that he was telling the truth. Sadly, Satyrs didn’t usually lie to the opposite sex.

She turned on her heel to look at the wall of vials, flasks, and goblets that were stacked in no particular order on the shelves. One of these days she was going to organize them so she knew what was where and what she had to replace.

Until now, it had never been a concern. There were hundreds of emotions laid out in front of her. Wren always knew what was where and what was what. Emotions were a language she spoke better than any other language she had attempted.

Juice came in two kinds of forms. One was a mist or smoke and the other a swirling colored liquid. Depending on the weight of the emotion, Wren made it in one medium or the other. Emotions were usually either light or heavy. They sunk into the bloodstream easier if they were already the form they wanted to be.

Euphoria was always an easy one to find.

White mist that seemed to glitter in the light could be seen in a bottle at the very top shelf. It was sitting between an angry looking flask of red rage and an innocent pink smoke that seemed to move on its own. Wren was careful not to touch the pink smoke when she stood on the small ladder to reach for Euphoria.

Obsession was never a good emotion, and she rarely made it. Technically, it was on the list of illegal emotions to sell. But Wren had always been a fan of toeing the line. Besides, she made certain that her Obsession only lasted a total of fifteen minutes. It wasn’t breaking the law if it lasted for less than twenty minutes, in her opinion.

Hopping down to the ground, the long black skirt she wore split over her thigh and revealed a long leg that ended in delicately arched bare feet.

“Euphoria. And that’ll be double the usual cost.”

“What?” Rupert’s incredulous tone was so loud that a few other customers looked their way. “Why are you trying to cheat me?”

“Because I don’t trust you, and I don’t think you’re going to be using this the way it’s intended to be used,” she said firmly as she pressed the bottle against her sternum. “You can always go ask Pitch.”

“You know I’d