Red Blood (Series of Blood Book 2)

by Emma Hamm

  “I am paying attention.”

  “Shouldn’t you listen to me? I did find Wren all on my own. Maybe you need my help,” Burke said while waggling his eyebrows at Lyra.

  “No, you’re the last person I need help from.” She stacked her hands in the air one by one until she reached as far as her arm could. “Everyone else on the planet is up here.” She shifted the hand that was on the table. “This is you.”

  He smirked. “Does that make you by the floor? Considering you have had...” he pinched his fingers together, “this much luck.”

  “Oh no, I’m not on this scale. There’s a special way to measure how important I am.”

  The feral grin on her face warned him not to push her. Lyra was not only unpredictable, but she was also known for having a short fuse and a nasty bite. Even towards those she loved. Both of these qualities were strange for a woman with a Siren inside of her.

  Considering that Lyra was part of this elite group and could hold her own against any creature they had found so far, the others were rather baffled by her. Her own family had been baffled. She wasn’t surprised by their stunned silences as they knew she wasn’t a “normal” woman.

  No one should ever dare to call her that.

  Lyra flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Who even remembers the prophecy part we’re supposed to be looking for anyway?”

  “There are three more parts. And you should know all of them; it’s your job,” Gaia, the first of the Five who was considered the embodiment of Mother Earth, responded.

  “God, you expect me to do all the work,” she muttered. “Someone give me a piece of the prophecy to figure out, or I’m going to go insane.”

  Wren stirred from her corner of the table. They all watched as her eyes flipped back in her head, and a milky white gaze stared back at them. Lyra would never get used to that. E seriously creeped her out.

  The voice that came out of the tiny Bohemian woman was not quite human. “Beneath the ground is the creature who protects. Carved and scarred by all it detests.”

  “Wow. So clear,” Lyra muttered.

  “Prophecies rarely are. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be difficult to complete,” Aether murmured.

  “Well isn’t that just lovely. And here I was thinking saving the world would be easy.”

  A hand on her knee stilled her from speaking her mind further. The palm of the hand was nearly as large as her head. Jasper. It was always Jasper.

  “Easy there, small fry.” He nodded his head. “There’s a few people in these parts that meet that description. None of them are good as far as I know.”

  “Speak, Jasper.” Gaia nodded for him to continue.

  “We have always considered that there may be a chance for someone in this prophecy to be inside the Black Market.” His eyes lingered upon everyone seated at the table. “There are more captives there than we can imagine. Rare creatures that would be worth looking into.”

  “Rare, yes. But not worthy of a prophecy. Those creatures are lost to this world. If they fit the description they wouldn’t be capable of handling the job,” Lyra clarified. “It’s a wasted cause.”

  “We don’t know that for certain.”

  “Yes, we do.” A haunted expression crossed her face before she shook her head firmly. “It’s a waste. If there’s anyone strong enough to take on Malachi in that place then you need to look to the Lords.”

  Jasper winced.

  “The Lords?” Wren asked.

  “They’re the people who run the Black Market. They’re all extremely powerful, either in magic or influence. They make the deals. They hold the contracts.”

  She didn’t like the calculating look Burke was giving her. Lyra knew that expression all too well, and it made a burst of anger chill her blood. She lifted a hand to point at him. “You stay out of it. You know damn well I’m not going to answer that question.”

  One of his brows arched, but he nodded.

  Gaia cleared her throat. “Then where shall we look if we are to cast our nets into the Black Market?”

  “Nowhere.”

  “There is always somewhere.”

  “Not in that place. You want answers? You have to make a deal. And you don’t want to be making any deals with the Lords.”

  “Why not?”

  Lyra’s throat closed. She shook her head firmly and tried to look as though she was fierce but was terrified that they would know. The words wouldn’t come out of her mouth to explain. They couldn’t.

  “Fine. Then we stay out of the Black Market,” Aether conceded.

  “There were rumors that a creature might fit that description.” Wren whispered. Her eyes had returned to their usual turbulent gray. “They call him the Graverobber.”

  “One of the Lords.” Lyra nodded.

  “He is supposedly a creature that has been destroyed by something. No one knows why, but he is rumored to be so incredibly disfigured that he cannot show his face in public. I do know that he is powerful and capable of great things.”

  “Or terrible things.” She slowly stood. “Am I to be the person going back into the Black Market then?”

  “No,” Jasper growled.

  “Your opinion is unnecessary. You’re always going to say no. Am I going?”

  “Yes.” Aether was the one to speak. She nodded even as her eyes stared into the blank void ahead of her. “It has to be you.”

  “A vision?”

  “An inclination.” Aether met Lyra’s gaze. “Go to the Market and see what you can find there.”

  “Understood.”

  “I don’t like it.” Jasper grabbed her arm. “They don’t know what they are asking you to do.”

  “No one does.” She smiled down at him and patted the big hand attached to her. “You know the drill. Drop me off at the entrance and don’t look back.”

  He slowly nodded. His hand shifted, so he had a better hold on her arm, and they disappeared.

  Their bodies reappeared on a dingy street far from Haven. The cobblestone around them had once been carefully laid, but now it was cracked. Weeds grew from the ground to take back the land that had been stolen long ago.

  Looking down the street that disappeared into darkness made her heart clench. She hated going into that place. And yet, there was a part of her that would always long for it.

  “Why do you always do this?” Jasper slowly dropped his hand from the soft rise of her bicep.

  Lyra shrugged. “Who else would do it?”

  “Anyone. Anyone else could put their own lives on the line.”

  “My life isn’t on the line.” She couldn’t explain to him why it wasn’t. She couldn’t explain that to anyone.

  “It is when you walk into that place. Whether you want to believe it or not.”

  “Maybe so. But it has to be me.”

  “One day you’ll tell me why,” he said quietly.

  “Probably not, big guy.” She patted his shoulder. “Go on with you. I’m sure they’ve got a piece of the puzzle for you too.”

  “You’ll let me know when to come get you?”

  “Of course.”

  He gave her one more lingering glance before he disappeared. She let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. It was so much easier being here when he wasn’t. She could be the person they were waiting for.

  Movement in the pool of water at her feet made her glance down. Her reflection shuddered and morphed. The nose wasn’t right. Her nose wasn’t that long. Nor were her eyes slanted and black as night. That wasn’t her face. It was close, but it wasn’t hers.

  A chill went down her spine, and she remembered a time that mirrored this moment. She had been fourteen. Children shouldn’t play with fire or dark magic. But she had.

  Long ago she had stood on this very road in the hopes that she might find something there. Her eyes had lingered upon the pools of water that never seemed to disappear. The younger version of herself had thought herself to be the most beautiful woman to ever live
.

  After all, that was what most Sirens thought of themselves.

  But she had been beaten down by the words of her parents. Sirens were unnatural, horrid creatures. She was a disgrace to the family name.

  The Black Market had been a sanctuary. No one had thought her unusual. No one had thought that her species was disgusting. There were far more dangerous and ugly things here.

  For the first few weeks, she had been allowed to wander. She had spent her money on frivolous things that held no power at all. Until someone had offered her a place in the Black Market. She was offered a home, food, a reliable job, and everyone had wanted her. Until the unthinkable had happened.

  The contract that had come from that encounter weighed upon her shoulders. Her foot stomped hard into the puddle of water to clear her reflection. Lyra had always known what was coming. There was no other end for her.

  She turned a corner and walked into the Black Market. Every fiber of her being wished she had forgotten this place. But she remembered every tiny detail as though it had been etched onto her soul.

  The candles that lined the path flickered to life as she walked past them. Unlike its name, the Black Market wasn’t dark. It was one of the most vibrant places she had ever seen. Bright streamers of colors billowed from the windows, and all manner of creatures wandered freely.

  This was the home for the freaks and the evil creatures that could not be allowed anywhere else. Not to mention that it was also where magic was practiced freely. The crumbling buildings on either side of her fairly reeked with the scent of it.

  No one was on the streets, not this close to the main road. It gave her the time she needed to become the person that the Black Market had turned her into.

  Lyra hated this person. She hated stepping back into the shoes of this woman she no longer knew. But she also couldn’t deny that letting go of all her restraints had a certain charm. The freedom was enthralling, tantalizing, and so deliciously sexy. At first.

  Her walk grew loose as her hips swiveled. In this place she wasn’t any regular woman; she was a Siren. Every inch of her perfect flesh was soft. Every curve and valley begged for the warm touch of a man whom she deemed worthy.

  She reached up to untangle her hair from the long ponytail she usually wore on her missions. The long tresses fell down her spine in a waterfall of dark color. Giving her head one perfect shake, she let the Siren out to play. By the time she turned the corner into the dank recesses of the Market, she was ready to take on any foe.

  Woe be the man who tried to stop her lest he be eaten whole.

  “Lyra!” The shouts began.

  Oh, they knew her here. They knew her well. But the creature they knew was one of loose lips and even looser hips. She was the woman that was bound by a contract and only continued to sink herself even further into trouble.

  All the while she could care less. A Siren didn’t care about a debt. She only cared about the moment she was living in and cared little for the consequences. Lyra had lost herself in that manner of thinking for a lot longer than she wanted to admit.

  “There’s my girl.” A large woman walked around a stall covered in brightly colored furs. The woman was a lost species of Troll, easily realized by the leathery skin that stretched across her bulbous frame.

  “Giselle.” Lyra gritted as she was yanked into an unwelcome hug.

  “It’s been a long time since our girl returned to this place.”

  “I was here just a little while ago for the Harpies.”

  “And still too long.” The Troll’s voice was extremely deep. It grated on Lyra’s nerves, but she had an appearance to keep up.

  “Giselle. I’m looking for a man.”

  “Ah.” The woman stepped back to look her up and down. “You never usually have a hard time finding those.”

  “I’m looking for a man known as the Graverobber.”

  Giselle flinched backwards. Her large frame was pressed against the tiny stall as her jowls shuddered. “You aren’t looking for a man.”

  “I believe I said I was.”

  “You’re looking for a monster.”

  Lyra heard crickets. A monster? Her head swiveled to stare at the man holding a cage of bugs next to her. “Shut them up or say goodbye.”

  His adam’s apple bobbed as he rushed away from them.

  “Giselle,” Lyra growled as she advanced upon the Troll.

  “No. Never.”

  “I think you’re going to change your mind in five seconds.” Her fingers stroked the blade at her hip.

  Giselle’s eyes watched the movement, but even that didn’t change her mind. She shook her head firmly while her hands scrabbled to find something to defend herself with. “Never. I will not speak to you about that creature.”

  “I need the Graverobber, Giselle.”

  Both of the women froze as a deep voice voice interrupted them. “Now what would you want with a man like that?”

  She recognized that voice even though she shouldn’t. A small smile crossed her mouth before she slowly turned on her heel. The graceful movement caused her hair to swish against her spine in a lovely way as she locked her gaze with mismatched eyes.

  “Couldn’t stand being away from me for long, handsome?” Her eyes looked him up and down. A happy sigh escaped her lips. “Shame that you didn’t get in touch with me sooner.”

  “You’re in my part of town. Why?”

  “Oh honey, you gotta give a girl a little foreplay.” Lyra licked her lips. Perhaps it was a good thing she had come here after all. She could let loose, enjoy the man in front of her a little more than she might usually. And then she could go back home without feeling any guilt because what happened here, she left here.

  Including this impressive hunk of man meat that was quickly going to be another notch on her bedpost.

  “What is it that you want with the Graverobber?” he asked her.

  “That’s between me and him. But there could be a little between me and you, too.”

  Giselle tried to scoot past Lyra. She couldn’t have that. She had more to say to the Troll woman who had been a pest long ago. Giselle had never known when to let sleeping dogs lie. Or, as it was, letting dead sailors remain at the bottom of the sea..

  She whipped the blade from her hip and buried it deep into the post behind her. Silver metal gleamed and quivered just in front of the Troll’s nose as she let out a small whimper.

  “Be nice to the weeds,” the man growled.

  “Weeds?”

  He leaned forward to place a hand on the knife’s twin at her hip. “They are weeds compared to your beauty.”

  Did he really think compliments would distract her that easily? Usually they might, but he was touching her favorite knife. She jerked in the opposite direction before he could take her weapon. “Didn’t your mother tell you not to play with toys that weren’t yours?”

  “I believe she always said to share.”

  “Well she lied.” Lyra gritted through her teeth as she turned to gather the knife she had thrown at the Troll. Jerking her chin, she let Giselle rush past her and disappear into the crowd that was staring at them.

  “I’m not going to ask again.” His tone was firm.

  “You’re so much more forceful here than the first time I met you, darling. I like this side of you.”

  “You’re in my domain now.”

  “This place?” She laughed. “This isn’t anyone but the Lords’ domain. Now if you want to tell me that you’re one of those, frankly I’d have to say you’re lying.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Because I know them.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Intimately.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” He stepped away from her and made a disgusted noise. “If you know the Graverobber so well, why don’t you know how to find him?”

  “He’s the only one I haven’t had the pleasure of…well. The pleasure.” Lyra didn’t know why she was giving this man such a hard time. She didn’t know why
she had started their relationship this way at all.

  But there was a part of her that wanted to be the bad girl around him. She wanted him to look at her with interest because she was an uncontrollable Siren woman. It was shooting herself in the foot. Sirens weren’t particularly well liked creatures.

  His eyes heated for a moment. She wouldn’t have even caught the shift if she hadn’t been looking directly into his gaze. There were hidden depths in those eyes that she wanted to pull apart until she knew what every little piece of him meant.

  There was heat there. There was blistering heat that made her want to blush and growl at the same time. She didn’t growl; she let the men do that. Yet it was her who wanted to lean into him and see if he tasted as good as she thought.

  “Lyra.”

  Her name snapped her out of the trance that had her body swaying towards him. She would always battle against the Siren part of her, but she hadn’t fallen under its spell so completely in a while. She blinked a few times as the fog cleared from her mind.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you want to get that coffee?”

  Once more, she blinked. That wasn’t the way she had thought this conversation was going to go. “Coffee?”

  “In a cafe.”

  “There are cafes here?”

  He arched a brow. “And here I was thinking you were familiar with the Black Market.”

  She followed him as he turned away from her to make his way down the street. “I thought I was too,” she murmured.

  The Black Market hadn’t changed much since she had lived in its shadows. There were still dark corners that always lingered at the corner of her vision. The creatures were still the evil, the dangerous, and the rejected ones that society would not welcome into their arms.

  She blinked a few times to try and see what he saw. There were stores certainly, but they were where people could buy dark magic and enchanted objects. This wasn’t a place for shops to pop up and families to take their children. It was the Black Market.

  Wolfgang lightly stepped up a few stone stairs and placed his hand against a worn black door.

  “And here I was thinking you were familiar with the Black Market,” she repeated his words. “That’s a potion shop.”