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

been in the corner of her mind. He controlled more of these streets than he wanted to let on. But he had always left her alone, and she had assumed there was some kind of mutual understanding between the two of them.

Obviously, she had been wrong. He would use her just like he used everyone else. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t just getting himself out of trouble. It wasn’t her job to save him. Hell, it wasn’t anyone’s job to save him.

But here he was, no longer begging but telling her she was going to do as he ordered. As if! She didn’t do anything that anyone ordered her. He knew that well enough.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to argue further with him, a hand tapped on her shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Whomever was asking didn’t wait for Pitch’s response. She was whirled out of his arms and into much stronger hands. She thumped against a hard chest and breathlessly tried to gain her bearings on the room.

Wren didn’t know it was possible to move so fast. Her new partner had managed to dance them nearly to the other side of the warehouse all while twirling her fast enough that her head was still spinning.

Colors and people melded together as she tried to focus. The only thing she could manage to focus on was the neat row of gold buttons that trailed down the man’s jacket. Each one shimmered as candlelight passed them by.

“You,” she whispered.

“Heated conversation there, Red.”

“I don’t have red hair.”

“You should.”

She looked up at Burke and held back the ridiculous need to brush a blonde curl off of his forehead. “How did you get in here?”

A bright grin flashed white on his chiseled face. “The gargoyle is an old friend from my days with M.O.M. He owed me a favor.”

“That’s not fair. I thought I had gotten away from you tonight.”

“Life’s rarely fair, darling,” he said. His strong hands made her feel uncharacteristically safe. His arms were warm around her as he leaned down to murmur in her ear.

Burke wasn’t as graceful as Pitch. His feet struck the ground too heavy to be a natural dancer, and he was too stiff to be enjoying himself. Still, Wren found that she liked dancing with Burke far more than Pitch.

“And why are you here?”

“You’re in danger.”

The words made her trip. Unlike dancing with Pitch, Burke was not as good at covering up her dancing mistakes. Her trip sent her stumbling towards him. He then stumbled backwards as he curled his arms to hold her against his broad chest.

His shoulder struck a man behind him whose bottom lip jutted out past two large tusks. The growl that erupted from this man made Burke scowl. As Wren was still wrapped in his strong arms, she too was pulled away from the inevitable fight that the ogre wanted.

“Sorry.” Burke was enjoying himself far too much if Wren was reading the grin on his face correctly. His laughter teased her ears as he began to dance with her once more.

“Do you mean I’m in danger from the people you’re angering?” she grumbled as they let the crowd fill the space between them and the ogre.

“Oh no. You’re in danger from much more than that.”

His quiet murmur made her heart pound against the cage of her ribs. The words weren’t what made her heart skip. It was the feeling of his lips against the shell of her ear and his breath that brushed against her skin.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” He broadened his form and cast his glance into the crowd around her. “There are men here tonight who work for Malachi.”

“Right, your fictional supervillain that I need to stop,” she snorted.

He yanked her closer to him, and the two of them stopped moving entirely. The crowd spiraled around them until all Wren could see was splashes of colors against a dark background.

And him. Always him. She felt in that moment that she would see his face even if she closed her eyes.

“Not fictional, Wren.” Burke’s eyes stared intensely into hers. “Very real and with every intent to harm you. There are people here that you should not be speaking with.”

“He doesn’t know who I am. I would have remembered if I met someone like that.” She meant her words to be sarcastic. But instead they sounded worried and unusually shy.

“He knows that I’m interested in you. Or did you not wonder who your friend was trying to get you in touch with?”

“Pitch wouldn’t do that,” she replied, though she was uncertain.

“Are you sure of that?”

He spun her until the long line of her spine was pressed against his chest. His hands held firm to her hips as he leaned down until his chin was resting nearly against her shoulder. The warmth of his body was reassuring, but the sight before her was not.

Pitch had returned to the bar. His thin frame was hunched as he spoke to a woman in a blood red gown. For a few moments, Wren thought she could see liquid drip from it and drop onto the floor. Her hair was long and dark. It wrapped around her body as though it had a life of its own. The long locks curled like snakes that twisted around her.

“Who is she?” Wren whispered as Burke slowly turned her into the cage of his arms.

“Malachi’s right hand. We’ve know about her alliances for a while but have never been able to capture her.”

“Why is that?”

“Whatever creature she houses inside of her makes her a fantastic escape artist.”

“I would expect nothing less from a supervillain,” Wren muttered.

“There is a Fire Elemental on the other side of the room we’ve been watching for a while. As well as three others that are known supporters of Malachi and his dark deeds.”

“Ominous.” Wren spun in his arms to try and pinpoint the people he was speaking of. When she found them, her eyes narrowed upon Burke’s gaze. “What you’re trying to tell