Silver Blood (Series of Blood Book 1)

by Emma Hamm

  Wren paused for a moment to take in the sights of the people who stood before her. A woman with a magnificent hat passed her by, and the bird on top of it craned its neck to stare down at her. A man wearing the skin of a massive snake like a cape was talking to another woman whose skin seemed to glow with a green light.

  There were so many people here, all with different capabilities and backgrounds. Wren thought it likely that everyone was going to let their magical creatures out to roam for a while as well. This was the perfect space for it. There wasn’t much that the magical creatures could do contained within this warehouse.

  Even they knew that if a fight broke out, their hosts would be tossed from the party in seconds flat. Gargoyles stood as sentries around the ground. A few cat eyed men were mingling with people as well. Wren recognized them as Pitch’s personal bodyguards. They were as ruthless in their abilities as assassins.

  She blended into the crowd easily. As she pushed her way past a woman whose snake tongue flickered out to taste the air, the spider legs around her ribs shifted. Apparently it wasn’t very comfortable near a snake. Wren wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

  A wall of people rose before her as she reached the center of the crowd. No one was looking at her. They were all engrossed in their own conversations and couldn’t be bothered to notice the woman in black. Wren enjoyed every second of this rarity. She wasn’t a Curiosity in this moment. She wasn’t even a Juice maker. She was simply a shadow that could soak in the little details of the crowd.

  “Finding everything to your liking?” a voice murmured from over her shoulder.

  “Not my type of party.” Wren was quick to reply.

  She turned to look Pitch up and down. Somehow he always managed to find her, even in a mass of people such as this. Tonight he was dressed in black slacks and a silken red shirt that split wide to bare his pale chest. A long silver chain hung nearly to his belly button where a black claw swung with his movements.

  “We’ll make it your type of party with a drink.” He offered his arm, and Wren took it with a soft smile.

  “You’re going out of your way to make this enjoyable for me, Pitch. The dress is really quite incredible.” And his actions were certainly suspicious.

  “Considering you’re my biggest competitor, I suppose I should.”

  “Please.” She wasn’t his biggest competitor, and she wasn’t particularly pleased that he was calling her that. The last thing she needed was people thinking she had more power and money than she did. But at least he was trying.

  Pitch guided her through the crowd as though she was a prize to be had. Women stared at her with disdain, and the gaze of the men suddenly became heated. Wren had to try very hard not to roll her eyes as she passed through the line of people that suddenly parted for her in a wave.

  “Really, Pitch. Are you trying to embarrass me?”

  “I’m trying to make sure you enjoy yourself,” he murmured in her ear. He was far too close for comfort. She could feel the heat of his body against her spine.

  “I don’t think that’s why you invited me.”

  “Also to make you uncomfortable.” Pitch grinned.

  Finally, they had made it to the bar. Wren’s face was flushed, and her knees were slightly shaking. She didn’t know why precisely. It wasn’t because she was attracted to Pitch, she had never been attracted to him. But perhaps it was the attention that the crowd was giving someone like her when his hand lingered on her waist.

  This was foolish. This was the last thing she should be doing when all she wanted to do was disappear into a crowd for a little while.

  “Pitch, what’s the angle for this.”

  “No angle, love.” He propped his hip against the nearest bar stool and stared down at her. “Why would I have to have an angle to pay attention to a lovely thing like you?”

  His hand reached as though to touch a curl that had fallen in front of her face. Wren slapped his hand away from her with a loud crack.

  “Quit it, Pitch. What’s going on?”

  “Really, why can’t you ever have a little fun?” He sighed, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright look, I have an important client who’s interested in commissioning you.”

  “Right.” She turned towards the bartender. “Can I have a Flying Monkey please?”

  “Get her a Seeing Eye.”

  “Excuse you, I can order my own drinks.”

  Pitch gave the bartender a severe look, and Wren knew that she was most likely going to get the Seeing Eye.

  “Wren, this is an important client. I would owe you.”

  The thought was tempting. Pitch didn’t ever say that he would owe someone, but everyone knew that he was good for his word. Pitch would do absolutely anything she wanted when she pulled in that favor.

  “That’s tempting, Pitch. It’s really tempting.” She took the drink offered to her and scowled at the vile pink liquid. Of course it was the drink Pitch had ordered for her. “But I don’t work for people I don’t know.”

  “He’d like to speak with you directly.”

  “No.”

  “No?” Pitch seemed surprised that she dared to deny him anything.

  “No! I like the way my life is, and I’m not getting involved with whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into. Look at you, Pitch, you’re sweating! Who is this person?”

  She watched as a droplet of liquid slid down his chest and disappeared underneath the silken folds. There was a sheen of glisten to his forehead that she had never seen before. When she pointed it out, a flash of fear made his eyes widen just for a moment.

  “Wren.”

  “What have you gotten yourself into now?” She murmured as she stepped closer. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

  “I need you to do this for me.”

  “You know my rules. I don’t get involved.”

  He put a hand on her waist as they leaned closer to each other. Anyone watching them would have assumed that they were two lovers enjoying the taste of each other’s breath. But upon closer scrutiny, there was a tension between the two of them that could have been cut by a knife.

  “Wren, if you don’t do this, they’ll take it out of my flesh.”

  “I don’t owe you anything. You got yourself into this.”

  He glanced around them. His eyes scanned the room and all the people that had gathered around them. Wren couldn’t imagine that he would be harmed in a place like this. There were too many people around who would keep him safe.

  But Pitch wasn’t ever nervous without reason. She imagined that this feeling was likely unusual for him. He was never in a situation he didn’t control. But, this time, it was his own fault.

  Wren had her own rules, which she followed. Don’t get involved. Don’t put yourself in a situation where you will get hurt. Those were easy to follow, and they meant she wasn’t going to help him now.

  His hand flexed against the skin of her back.

  “Dance with me,” he murmured as he leaned down to press his forehead against the long line of her neck.

  “Excuse me? Your dancing skills aren’t that amazing that you’ll convince me just by moving your hips.”

  “I could convince you with my hips, just not in a public place.”

  She rolled her eyes at the nervous smile he flashed at her. “Fine.”

  Wren knew what he wanted. As he guided her into the crowd, she was all too aware that he was giving them privacy. It seemed backwards really. Walk further into the masses of people so that they could talk without people interrupting them.

  In their world, sometimes it was easier to be quiet in a room full of people than somewhere private.

  Pitch guided his hand along the line of her arm to gently hold her hand in his. He was a perfect partner in all essence of the words. His hand was gentle upon hers, his arm was strong against her spine, and he was of the perfect height for her to speak with.

  She would have enjoyed this moment if the taste of danger wasn�
�t still lingering upon her tongue.

  “I’m asking for your help.”

  “I’m well aware of that. And I’m not helping without knowing what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  “I don’t know.” His eyes glanced over her head for a few moments before looking down at her. “I honestly don’t know.”

  They spun in a whirl of dark fabric. Her pale legs were revealed briefly along with the boots which made dancing gracefully difficult. Still, she thought she was managing just fine as Pitch held her in his arms.

  As the other couples gracefully moved around them, she caught a glint of something familiar. It wasn’t much. The flash of gold buttons that caught a small bit of the light. Yet that small glint was enough to blind her.

  “What are they asking for?”

  “You.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “Just you.” His brow furrowed in troubled worry.

  “You’re a better Juice maker than me.”

  “You have more exotic Juices.”

  “Of course,” she muttered, “it’s always the ones who want to go a little deeper into the dark side. But why ask specifically for me?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know,” Pitch replied. “I have a feeling it’s less about the Juice and more about you.”

  As he guided her around a large woman with a swan draped around her shoulders, Wren stumbled. Her? Why was everyone so interested in her all of a sudden?

  “I don’t like that,” she whispered. The shadows around them seemed all the more dangerous as the reality of her situation sunk in. Was Burke working for these people? Would they go so far as to try to get to her through Pitch?

  “I wouldn’t either. But I’m going to need you to talk to them, Wren.”

  She shivered at his tone. “I can’t. There’s enough people trying to force me to do something I don’t want to do. Not you too.”

  “Wren.” He dragged his nails down her spine. “I was being nice and asking. If I have to force you, I will.”

  “You could try,” she whispered. Her eyes flipped backwards in her head so that E could peer out for a few moments before her eyes returned to normal. “But I’m not sure you’d like the results.”

  Wren could feel the muscles in Pitch’s shoulders tense. “You cannot threaten me with that Curiosity.”

  “I believe I can.”

  She could not believe that he was trying to manhandle her into doing what he wanted. Pitch had always 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.

&n
bsp; “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 me is that we are currently surrounded by supporters.”

  “Yes.”

  “And they know about me.”

  “Yes.”

  “What do they know about me?”

  He frowned down at her. “I do not know. Enough to make you interesting.”

  “What does Malachi do with people he finds interesting?”

  “Keeps them.”

  His answer sent a shudder down her spine. Of course that was the only answer that could be provided. Wren didn’t know who this Malachi was or why he was interested in her of all people. But she would not be “kept” by anyone. It simply wasn’t in the fiber of her being to allow such a thing.

  She clenched her fingers on his biceps and stopped them from moving once more. The long velvet of her dress split along the length of her leg. Smooth, pale flesh drew Burke’s gaze downwards, and he smirked when he saw the shitkickers on her feet.

  “So what do we do?” she asked him.

  “Run.”

  “How? Through the crowds of people until someone manages to catch up with us?”

  “You underestimate me.” He winked at her. “We’re going to have to create a diversion.”

  “We can’t create a diversion. We’re the ones that they’re looking for.”

  She watched Burke raise a hand to his mouth and breathe into his palm. He didn’t say any words that she could see. He simply let a hot breath warm the skin of his palm. She hadn’t noticed the cut on his hand until it opened. A small blue bead fell from his body and dropped onto the floor. It rolled a few steps before it was shattered underneath the heel of a woman with a long elephant trunk replacing her nose.

  Nothing happened for a few moments. Wren stared at him with an arched brow before the lights cut out in the warehouse. Everyone stopped moving instantly. Even the music was silenced as darkness swallowed everyone whole.