Silver Blood (Series of Blood Book 1)

by Emma Hamm

  She tripped. Her feet tried to catch her, but she fell to the side.

  This time, he wasn’t letting her fall. Burke lurched forward and caught her falling body. He held her to his chest and sank to his knees. Finally. Finally, he had her in his arms.

  Trying to catch his breath, he held her against him and pressed his forehead against her neck. His hand rose to shakily brush her hair away from her face. It was so tangled that he didn’t notice the mottled color of her skin instantly. Her eyes were closed, and her chest was barely moving, but he knew she was alive. She had to be.

  “Red,” he whispered. “You’re hair should be red, sweetie.”

  Her eyelids fluttered.

  “That’s it, Wren. Come back to me, honey. You’re alright. You’re going to be alright.” He whispered the words against her skin as he pressed his mouth to her forehead, her cheeks, her chin.

  “Burke?”

  A great expulsion of breath heaved from his chest. She was alive. She was talking. He could not describe the flood of relief that took all of his strength. He drifted to the side with her in his arms before he pulled her closer to him. His strong arms held her safe.

  “Jiminy, my name is Jiminy. I came for you.”

  “I knew you would.”

  He couldn’t stop himself. Carefully, oh so carefully, he pressed his lips to hers. He had to reassure himself that she was alive. This strange creature whom he had only just discovered but found was necessary to breathe. She was alive. She was safe. She was finally in his arms.

  His arms tightened around her. He didn’t want to hurt her, but God, it felt so good to have her alive.

  Pounding feet finally caught up to them. He broke away from her to see Lyra bend down and brace her hands against her knees.

  “Damn, Burke. You can really run,” she huffed out.

  “We have to get her home.”

  “She’s injured,” Jasper growled as he stooped down next to them. The giant was hardly out of breath. Burke again wondered just how strong he really was. His hands reached out to touch the knife that was still sticking out of her side. “Djinn bound.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Poisonous.”

  “Wren,” he whispered as he looked down at her pale features. “We’ve got to go.”

  “Burke, wait,” Wren muttered.

  “We’re going now.”

  “What about Malachi?” Lyra asked.

  “Leave him. We’ve got her.”

  “Burke.” This time, Wren’s voice was strong enough that the three of them looked down at her in surprise. “It’s not Wren.”

  “What?”

  “Thanks for the kiss, sweetie, but it’s not Wren.”

  “E?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Where’s Wren?”

  “I don’t know.” Her features shifted into an expression of profound grief. “I don’t know, Burke. I can’t find her.”

  He looked up to meet Jasper’s eyes. The other man was remaining stoic, but he could see how badly he wanted to move.

  “Let’s go.”

  Jasper nodded and reached out to touch all of them. With each hand resting upon his broad forearm, he exhaled. Instantly, the four of them disappeared from the snow covered fields.

  “C ongratulations is in order. You three have managed to bring her back home safe.”

  The three in question were standing before Gaia covered in blood, gore, sweat, and other unmentionable things she wished not to dwell upon. But they had managed to bring back possibly one of the most important people in the world. She was suitably impressed.

  Burke stood in the back of the room, itching to leave and see Wren. She was hurt. She was in pain.

  She wasn’t there.

  His heart constricted as the thought passed through his mind. They hadn’t had much time to speak since they returned to Haven. They had all been swept into separate rooms. She to the healers in hopes they might be able to stop the poison. He and his team to report to the Five.

  He wanted to see her. Even if it was just her physical form, it was something. He could see that if she was still inside that great darkness that was E, that he might be able to get her back.

  “Burke,” Gaia said his name with a gentle quality he had yet to hear from her.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  She appeared surprised. “Ma’am? Since when do you call me ‘ma’am’?”

  “I have other things on my mind.”

  “I can see that.” She tapped her nails against the table she was seated at before waving her hand. “Lyra, Jasper, please leave.”

  They hesitated for the barest moment, and Burke was grateful for it. Though he wasn’t as close to them as he should be with his team, he appreciated their worry for him. He was worried for himself.

  The door clicked shut behind them, and Gaia continued to watch him. Her eyes danced over the bruises that were starting to form on his cheekbones and the cuts that decorated his knuckles.

  “So,” she began, “she’s gone.”

  “Not gone,” he answered gruffly. “Lost.”

  “Lost.” A slow nod accompanied the word. “Burke, I hope you understand that you are a trusted member of this team. Your happiness is… considered in moments like this.”

  “Considered?”

  She scrubbed a hand over her face and suddenly appeared to be exhausted. “I am not capable of kindness like my sisters are. I was not made to be a soft woman. The Earth is not gentle, it is cruel.”

  “I have seen the earth be gentle.”

  “Not the kind I came from.” She attempted a smile then. Perhaps it was more of a grimace, but Burke appreciated her trying. “I want to make sure you are alright.”

  “I will be once she awakens.”

  “Burke, her body is already awake.”

  “But not her mind.”

  “I would have you aware that her mind may never heal from this.”

  Burke flinched backwards. “It has to.”

  “But it might not.”

  “I will make it.”

  “You don’t have a choice in this.” Gaia pointed to the chair in front of her. “Please.”

  He sat down when she asked. Not because he wanted to hear anymore of what she had to say. He sat because his knees had suddenly gone weak at the idea that he might lose her.

  “Legion is an incredibly powerful creature. It’s limits are… Well they aren’t really known to us.”

  “It has no powers of its own.”

  “Not entirely true,” Gaia said quietly. “Legion is not a result of our power. It is neither dark nor light. Which is precisely why Wren happens to not follow the generic qualities that our kind managed to take in human form. Her blood is not what ours is. Her mind also does not work in the same way. Legion is truly an untapped source of power.”

  “For Malachi. He can use her.”

  “Legion can use itself. It simply has to be trained.”

  Burke looked at her then as the gears in his head turned. “You’re saying that Wren might be able to use E’s powers?”

  Gaia slowly nodded. “In a sense. Magic has to come from somewhere. In the same way that Malachi used her, she will have to burn through the soul that is inside her.”

  “She won’t kill something to use it’s magic.”

  “She may have to before the end of this war. I have a feeling there are some powers that are innate to Legion, however.”

  “How so?” he asked.

  “Well, everything starts somewhere.” Gaia smiled. “Haven’t you wondered why Legion has always created Juice so easily?”

  “Prior knowledge?” Burke shrugged.

  “I believe Legion came to be from the first inhalation of a Djinn’s dark soul. A combination of darkness and light if you will. It would certainly explain why Wren has been able to create Juice without any prior knowledge of magic. Or any magic really.”

  “So you’re saying that E has been creating Juice without having to use its
memories? I saw the dreams turning black and white in Wren’s head.”

  “A dream is easy to control.” Gaia steepled her fingers. “Legion is certainly powerful. But not entirely able to save itself. Some souls aren’t made to exist for very long.”

  “Hers is.”

  They knew of whom he spoke. Wren was close to his mind and ever close to his heart.

  “If anyone might be able to save her, it’s you two,” Gaia said as she leaned back into her chair. “Go and speak with Legion. The healers should be done with her body by now.”

  “Thank you,” he muttered.

  Everything had become overwhelming. He stood slowly, as though his body had aged far beyond its years.

  The hallways didn’t register in his mind. His feet trod down the well lit structure that was Haven but his mind was already in the room where he had left her. This place wasn’t meant to be a hospital. Every room that was in use was meant to be a living room. A bedroom. Hell, even the bathrooms had Red Bloods situated in them to keep them comfortable and safe.

  Now Wren was also in one of those rooms. She had been laid on top of a table that would be her makeshift bed. A glass chandelier above her had once deemed the room a formal dining area. But now it was the place where she would fight to heal herself.

  He opened the door slowly. They had piled pillows underneath her and propped her up high enough for her to be looking at him when he walked in. But it wasn’t Wren looking at him. It was E and all it’s thousands of souls staring out of white marble eyes.

  “E.”

  “Burke.”

  There were no healers in the room, but she appeared to no longer be in pain. Burke wasn’t certain if they had managed to completely heal her body or if E was simply used to being uncomfortable. He would bet on the latter.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Physically, this form will heal.” E gestured at its body. “The poison was weak.”

  “You mean it didn’t affect you.” Burke took a wild guess. Gaia was rarely wrong when she finally discovered what creatures were.

  Wren’s head slowly nodded. “So the gold one told you.”

  “She spoke with you as well?” Burke’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “While I was having surgery, yes. Her theory is unusual but perhaps correct.”

  “So you think you can use powers as well?”

  “I have not tried in a long time.”

  Burke reached out to take Wren’s hand. He knew it wasn’t her that he was holding onto, but it was still comforting to have her squeeze his hand back. E was kind to comfort him in a time like this.

  “Have you found her?”

  She shook her head sadly.

  “How do we get her back?”

  E appeared to think for a few moments before reluctantly beginning to speak. “When Wren was forced to come forward so many times by Malachi, he was tearing at her soul. The easiest way to describe what I am made of is fine bits of tissue. Together, we are incredibly strong. Like a sheet of fabric that cannot be ripped by being pulled in one direction or the other.

  “Malachi forces the souls inside of me to be alone. Each time he did that, Wren’s soul was no longer protected by me. It wore thin in certain places until holes were formed. She wasn’t just losing her mind, Burke. She was losing parts of herself.”

  He rubbed his chest as the ache in his heart grew. He didn’t want to know what that had felt like to her. “And the bruises?”

  “The physical form is no less capable of handling such treatment,” E grumbled. “These forms are far too sensitive. It is much easier to not have a form at all.”

  “We are not in the past.”

  “No we aren’t.” E sighed. “I filled in the holes that I could. Some of my souls pulled themselves apart to replace what she had lost. But she was still weak and dangerously close to no longer being a soul at all. We gathered her into the deepest part of our form that we could. But when we took her into those shadows we… lost her.”

  “You lost her?”

  “It is easy to do. I am not just souls. But also the substance that souls are made of. Smoke, fog, thin streams of light and color. It is easy for souls to want to go back to what their original form was.”

  “Is she gone then?” The devastation in his voice made it hard to speak. His throat closed up before he could say more.

  “I do not know. I have never had this happen before.”

  Burke withdrew his hand then. He would have to leave. He could not continue to look at this body that had once been hers without her in it. The empty shell wasn’t Wren. It was someone else entirely.

  His head dropped into his hands. The silhouette his body made was the outline of a man stricken with grief. He had only just found her, and now she was no longer here. No more mad colors streaming from her beautiful face. No more laughter at inappropriate moments. No more sassy responses that she could take care of herself.

  And she had. He had failed her in every way possible, and every time she had managed to save herself.

  “Not to yank my own chain, but why is it that I’m always coming in to save the day?”

  The deep male voice made Burke’s muscles instantly tense. He recognized the voice. The deep timber was the same voice that had been in the shadows and told them how to get the amulets. And now that he had time to process, he recognized the voice from another place as well.

  “Pitch,” he growled as he lifted his head.

  The dark man was standing in the corner of the room with one of his knees bent. Propped against the wall, he was looking decidedly pleased with himself.

  “The one and only,” Pitch replied as he opened his arms wide.

  Burke’s stormy expression grew rabid as he prowled towards the other man. He was going to rip him limb from limb. “None of this would have happened if it weren’t for you.”

  Pitch’s eyes grew wide. “Now hold on there, Burke.” He skirted around the edge of a chair and held it in front of him like a shield. “I’m here to help.”

  “Since when have you helped? You’ve been offering her up on a silver platter to Malachi since day one!”

  The chair was shoved out of the way as Burke tossed it aside. Pitch moved behind the table on the other side of E. Suspiciously, E had not mentioned anything as Burke attempted to grab the other man across the table.

  “I have done no such thing!” Pitch laughed. “I think she’s stubborn and ridiculously attractive, but I haven’t been trying to get her killed.”

  “Stubborn and attractive are both bad in your book?” Burke couldn’t help but ask. He was so confused, he even paused in his attempts to chase Pitch around the table.

  “They both kill.” Pitch shrugged. “Anyways, I happen to know a way to get her back.”

  “How do you know all of these things?”

  “I don’t tell secrets.”

  “I can make you.”

  “Your attempts at seducing me are rather pathetic, Burke.” Pitch faked a shiver and shook his shoulders.

  Burke grimaced. “Just sit down. I can see why Wren doesn’t like you.”

  “Wren likes me.” Wounded, the tall, thin man righted the chair that had been knocked over and plunked it down next to E. “How are you doing, darling?”

  “That’s not Wren,” Burke grumbled as he took his seat as well.

  “Well aware of that, handsome.” Pitch reached out to hold Wren’s hand in his own. “I wasn’t talking to Wren anyways.”

  A smile spread across Wren’s face. “Always a pleasure, Prince Charming.”

  “Hardly. I always thought I was more a Wicked Witch.”

  Burke watched the exchange with a horrified expression. “Do you two?”

  They both turned to look at him, and at the same time, replied with one word. “No.”

  “Oh good.” He relaxed back into his chair. “How do we save her?”

  “Well, first of all. You’re going to need the eyeball of a dragon, the fingernails of a witch,
several eggs of a basilisk, and let me tell you, those aren’t easy to come by -”

  Burke raised his hand to interrupt Pitch. “I work with Lyra. I know bullshit when I smell it.”

  A grin was his answer. “Couldn’t help it. Anyways, you’re a Dream Walker. You can get inside any head.”

  “Yes.”

  “So get inside E’s.”

  Burke blinked a few times. “Is that even possible?”

  “Legion’s mind is a rat’s nest, but if you’re used to fighting through a dreaming world you might be able to get through each level until you get to the deepest part of its collective mind. And if I know Wren well, and I know her better than most, I might even be able to give you a few tips to draw her to meet you halfway.”

  Burke looked at E. “What do you think?”

  Wren’s body shrugged. “It’s worth a try. You’re not a human, so you might be able to travel through my unconscious and bring her to the top with you. I can guide you through my mind and into the darkness without you having to find your way. If you can lure her to you, that is.”

  “I can.”

  “You can’t.” Pitch was leaning back in his chair and staring at his nails.

  “Excuse me?”

  Burke’s angry tone must have struck some kind of chord. He didn’t know what button he had pushed, but when Pitch looked up at him there wasn’t a shred of humanity left in his gaze. The blackness of his eyes were odd. They weren’t right, those eyes that reflected back Burke’s own flaws.

  “Wren has been a dear friend for a very long time, and I don’t have friends.” It wasn’t Pitch that spat the words. “You’ll listen to me and do exactly as I say. Only then will you get her back.”

  Slowly, Burke nodded. Pitch’s eyes cleared back to his own dark eyes.

  “Wren lives in a forest, but that’s not her dream. She can be lured by a few things. The first is the scent of lavender. It reminds her of her mother. Second, flowers. Whatever environment you set up has to have flowers. She’s a fan of roses. And third, now this is the important one, you’re going to need this.”

  Pitch leaned across the two of them and held a long chain in his hand. At the end of it was a vial that held what appeared to be silver smoke. It did not move like Juice should have.