Blue Blood (Series of Blood Book 3)

by Emma Hamm

  Blue Blood

  Series of Blood #3

  Emma Hamm

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Emma Hamm

  Copyright © 2017 by Emma Hamm

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover art by Mirella Santana: http://mirellasantana.deviantart.com/

  Editing by: Sarah Collingwood, Robert Freund Jr.

  Proofreading by: Renee Wood

  ISBN: 1-5448-7048-5

  Created with Vellum

  To all the people who consistently read my books, who have the most wonderful responses, and who remind me every day why I write.

  Thank you for enjoying my world.

  1

  He awoke to the sound of dripping.

  Each plink against the stone floor echoed in his mind until it was all he could concentrate on. Drip. Drip. Drip. The water struck the ground as though it was boring into his skull.

  He pressed his palms firmly against his temples. The action did not help the throbbing headache behind his eyes, instead, only amplified his disorientation. The repetitive sounds only aggravated his headache.

  Jasper groaned as he slowly rolled to his side. Was he hung over? Did he blackout after an attempt to drown in alcohol?

  Surely he had succeeded if the pain in his head was any indication. He couldn’t remember anything from last night. Or even the night before. Once more he groaned, clutching his tangled mane of hair. Never again. He was never going to drink again.

  Water. The dripping made him realize how parched his throat was. Maybe a cool drink would help. Or, better yet, a vial of Wren’s Juice to take care of his symptoms. The thought made him relax slightly. The pain in his head was only temporary. He had to get up.

  He rolled over slowly to place his hand on his mattress. But his palm did not meet soft flannel sheets. Pebbles dug between his fingers and lodged underneath his nails. Hard ground. Not the comfortable bed he had been expecting.

  Jasper finally opened bleary eyes to stare down at the cold stone. Then, memory came rushing back.

  He remembered the battle. The harsh smell of smoke in the air and the screams echoing in his ears. He remembered the great skeletal beast who had used Lyra like a shield. He remembered watching both of them fall.

  His heart had broken. Lyra was everything to him. Sister, friend, love, everything he needed wrapped up in one tiny little package who would never feel the same way about him. She was, in essence, the reason he had kept himself alive for so long.

  Memories assaulted him. He would never escape the guilt that plagued him from arriving to the battle late. If he had been a few minutes earlier, perhaps Lyra would not have lost the love of her life. To see her lose someone so important had been damning enough.

  Her anguish had called to him. He had then watched a miracle happen as Wolfgang came back to life. Jasper had met Lyra’s eyes and smiled when a billow of air unbalanced him. He remembered looking behind him to meet the unnatural gaze of a red eyed man. A tugging sensation had yanked him backwards by the navel and then…nothing.

  There was a gaping hole in his mind where a memory should be. He didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten here, but Jasper did know one thing.

  He had to get out.

  Rolling onto his knees felt like the most difficult thing he had ever done. The broad expanse of his chest rose as he sucked in air. Breathing hard didn’t help him achieve his goal. In fact, it was a hindrance. The pain in his ribs made him want to fold right back onto the ground.

  He grunted and pushed hard at the stone beneath him. Though his biceps shook, he managed to rock back onto his heels. He pressed his palms against his thighs and tilted his gaze towards the ceiling. Never had kneeling been so difficult. And he’d been knocked down by a few impressive opponents.

  Once he caught his breath, he canted his head to look around. He realized with shock that he was in a cell. Iron bars surrounded him on every side, growing down from the ceiling to embed themselves in the ground.

  There was nothing in the cell. No bed. No food. No water. Not even a bucket to relieve himself in. He was caged him like an animal.

  An angry growl vibrated his throat. They would not contain him like this. He lumbered to his feet as rage poured adrenaline through his veins. His balance was off. He listed to the side and he landed hard against the iron.

  Immediately, his flesh sizzled.

  He hissed through his teeth and stumbled away from the bars. Jasper clutched onto the burning flesh of his arm. True iron was hard to come by these days and it had effectively trapped him in this tiny square.

  His train of thought scattered as panic set in. He tried to teleport out of the cell but was unsuccessful. Pinpricks arced up his spine and exploded in the base of his skull.

  His shout of anger and pain echoed around him as he attempted to use his power once more. Jasper fell to his knees as he pushed himself to teleport past the iron. He ground his teeth until the muscles in his jaw bounced. His hands curled into fists that shook with the need to strike something. Anything.

  He would not be caged. He would not remain here and wait for whomever had captured him.

  Panic made him little more than a beast as he lunged towards the iron bars. His large hands wrapped around them with no consideration for the agony. Tendrils of smoke drifted in the air as his arms bulged and shook. He pulled. He twisted. He threw his entire body weight against the earthen prison.

  The bars did not move.

  Exhausted, he fell to his knees. Tiny stones dug into his tender flesh. Great, gasping breaths rocked his body. He was no beast. He was a man. It was too easy to forget that.

  Jasper took stock of his body. Cuts, scrapes, bruises, aching muscles. They could all be healed and ignored. He was not wearing a shirt. This would be a problem, considering how cold it was in the cell. There was little light to see by, other than a few sconces burning at the corners of his vision. His pants were appropriate for the lack of heat, but he wasn’t wearing shoes.

  He was likely to freeze in this dungeon long before he died of starvation. However, he refused to dwell on such thoughts. Lingering in this cursed place was not in the plan. He would find a way out if it killed him in the process.

  “Are you done yet?” a tiny and high pitched voice asked from within his head.

  Of course. Of course she would awaken now of all times. Jasper raised a hand to rub his forehead. He spoke aloud to his creature, although he rarely did so. “Yes. Yes, I am done, Bluebell.”

  “Oh good. You were quite frightening.”

  “I am sorry to frighten you,” he grumbled.

  “That’s quite all right. I understand sometimes you need to release a little anger. It’s not an emotion I’m particularly fond of, but I have seen many humans express such feelings. Perhaps, if you would like, we can talk about it. I have heard that such assistance is appreciated in times like these—”

  “Bluebell. Please,” Jasper interrupted the incessantly annoying Fairy. “Let me think.”

  “Now?
”

  “Yes, now.”

  He heard an exasperated sigh, and thankfully the Fairy shut up. They made a pact long ago; if he asked for the space to think, she needed to respect that request. Otherwise, she would never stop talking, and he would slowly descend into an abyss of insanity.

  Not that he didn’t appreciate her. He did. She was a sweet little soul who had somehow managed to stay as innocent as the day she was born. Perhaps it was simply a Fairy trait; Jasper didn’t rightly know.

  But at times like these, he wanted to reach into his own head and wring her neck. Bluebell didn’t understand human emotions. Fairies were always on one extreme end of the spectrum; infinitely happy or infinitely sad. They were consistent in feeling the wrong emotion at the wrong time, such as being happy about waking up in a cage. It wasn’t her fault.

  He wanted to blame her for it though.

  Jasper expelled a long, slow breath and tried to calm his raging thoughts by grounding himself with the information he had. They were in a cage. He was sore, likely from the battle and gods knew what else. He was alive. That was something good to think about.

  Memories were returning quickly now. He remembered the darkness and flames. But more than anything, he remembered dark eyes and red irises. Malachi. Jasper let out another long breath.

  Of course it had been Malachi. What better way to get to the Five than to take one of their best soldiers out of the picture? The battle may have been targeting Wolfgang, but he and the Five had underestimated the Void’s intelligence. Malachi had a back up plan in case the Magician had been powerful enough to beat back his forces.

  The Five should have known. Jasper should have known. Going headlong into battle without considering all the possible variables was unnecessarily dangerous. How many times had he drilled that into his head? Into Lyra’s?

  “It’s not something you could have controlled, Jaspy,” Bluebell whispered.

  “I thought I told you to be quiet,” Jasper said, amused. He had never truly been angry with her. She was like a child. Though she might argue and do things he disagreed with, Bluebell always had good intentions.

  She sighed. “Being quiet is very difficult when you’re forgetting the important stuff.”

  “What important stuff am I forgetting?”

  “That you aren’t alone.”

  In theory, the words were encouraging. He was never alone because he had a sparkly, little voice in his head cheering him on at all times. But, realistically, Jasper knew that he was going to have to battle through Malachi and all his men alone. It was a heavy weight upon his shoulders.

  He sighed and ran his fingers through the mess of his hair, which was so snarled he nearly trapped himself in it. “Thank you, Bluebell.”

  Those were the only words he could give her. He appreciated her support, but in the end there was little she could do for him.

  “No, Jasper,” Bluebell said with another long, drawn out sigh. “Are you blind? Did Malachi take your eyes when he dropped us here?”

  “Well, it is dark—”

  “Jasper, there’s a person in the cell next to you.”

  For once, Bluebell sounded like an adult. The words registered slowly in Jasper’s brain. Another person? Instantly, a chill danced down his spine. Doubtless, it was due to the eyes of prisoners upon him. There was always the chance it was one of Malachi’s goons, however, and he didn’t want to be lulled into feeling secure.

  He tried to force himself to look. He really did. But turning to see who was watching him seemed eerily close to finding a monster underneath his bed. He was reminded of the many times he had searched the shadows of Lyra’s room, certain something was going to jump out at him. Inch by inch, he pivoted to glance over his shoulder.

  He had failed to notice the multiple cages in the cave. They were lined up side by side, each the same size as his cell — a meager five paces across. The line of cages glowed in the darkness like jagged teeth, disappearing into the shadows far beyond his vision. There were too many to count, but most were full. He could hear the moaning of prisoners far down the line.

  A small figure huddled in the corner of the cage next to his. There was a single empty cage between them, but he could still see her in the shadows. Her long legs were pressed against her chest, and a waterfall of blonde hair fell across her shoulders to touch the floor.

  “She’s like a princess,” Bluebell murmured.

  “You know the rules.”

  “No fixating on people. Right.”

  Jasper knew how that road ended. Bluebell wanted to like everyone, but even more than that, she wanted to fall in love with everyone. The emotion was tempting for her kind. Like ambrosia, the Fae lived on romance and heartbreak.

  The last time Bluebell had found a person who caught her eye, the two of them ended up on a wild goose chase for a month. It took nearly as long for Jasper to come to his senses and realize he was chasing a terrified girl who didn’t even know who he was. The dashing blow to his ego snapped him out of the Fae spell that had made him googly eyed. When a Fae became obsessed, he had learned to wait it out. They would either grow weary or obtain their goal.

  Never again. He had told Bluebell that many years ago, but reminded her at every opportunity. Falling in love like that was dangerous. He’d stick to the love he felt for Lyra. Safe, unrequited, and easy to move on from.

  His heart stuttered when he thought of her. Lyra. His perfect little Siren. Never once had she looked at him with anything other than sisterly adoration. He buried the truth rather than admit she did not feel the same way. She was in his life. That had to be enough.

  Except, now it could never be enough. Now he was stuck in a cell, and she was living happily with her nightmare of a boyfriend…fiance…husband. Whatever the man was now.

  Jasper needed to distract himself.

  He settled down on the ground so his great bulk would not frighten the woman in the cage. He leaned as close as he could to the iron bars and made a soft sound.

  “Are you awake?” he asked.

  She shifted. It was the slightest of movements as her toes curled.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry if I frightened you before. I did not know where I was.”

  Slowly, ever so slowly, she lifted her head to stare at him with big blue eyes.

  She was a delicate thing. Her face was a perfect moon with high cheekbones beneath silvery pale skin. A small spiraled horn grew from her forehead and sparkled in the dim light. She was covered in dirt and god knew what other kind of grime, but still radiated beauty.

  Jasper had never been so close to a Unicorn. They were a rare species in the old dimension and even moreso now. The rumors of their beauty were not exaggerated.

  She blinked a few times, as though she were having trouble focusing upon him. “None of us know where we are. Not when we first arrive.”

  “Us?” he repeated.

  Movement suddenly fluttered from all around him. As he stood, others walked forward from the shadows of their own cages. They were each separated by an empty cage. He counted at least a dozen within his sight, each one a very different creature.

  To his right, a Firedrake stared with burning eyes. It crawled forward so he could see it, laboring as the bruise darkened scales rasped upon the stone floor. A Mermaid was in the cage beyond the Firedrake, her soaking wet hair and scaled legs barely visible through the murky darkness.

  “There are many of us,” the Unicorn murmured. “All here for his greater purpose.”

  Gooseflesh rose along his arms. “Which is?”

  “We’re his back up plan.”

  “Back up plan?” He turned and arched a brow. “None of us are fighting for him.”

  “We don’t have to. He keeps us here like a repository of potential magic. When he needs something else, he comes down to the zoo,” the Unicorn spat. “Or siphons it off of us until we waste away.”

  “I didn’t know he could steal magic without killing th
e soul.”

  “No one did,” she bitterly said.

  The others remained silent, and Jasper wondered why. They were all still alive, at the very least. Some were gravely wounded, perhaps, but he couldn’t see many of the prisoners.

  He gestured towards the rest. “And they can speak I take it?”

  “Some can.” She shifted onto her knees, wincing at the slight movement. “Others can’t. They are unlikely to speak to you, however.”

  His brows furrowed. “Why?”

  She struggled to her feet with no small amount of pain. His heart ached with her every flinch and shudder. Perhaps that was the natural response to a Unicorn’s suffering. Or perhaps he was getting soft.

  She looked up from the long curtain of her hair, a wry grin curling her lips. “The same reason they don’t usually talk to me.”

  He wished he didn’t understand what she meant. He wished he didn’t feel the stares zeroing in on the drooping wings attached to his shoulder blades. How could he not? She and Jasper were anomalies — strange creatures that were usually not seen in these parts.

  Fairy and Unicorn. Both were not supposed to exist. And if they did, they certainly weren’t supposed to still have their wings and horns.

  He grunted in response.

  “My name is Ella,” the Unicorn murmured. She walked towards the edge of the empty cage between them and gingerly lowered herself once more to the ground. Cross-legged now, she boldly made eye contact with him.

  Jasper wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. He was overloaded with fear, embarrassment, and, more than anything, the desire to hide. He was good at hiding.

  “Jasper. Talk to her,” the Fairy in his head whispered.

  For once, she was right. He had no way of knowing how long this Unicorn, Ella, had been locked away in this godforsaken place. Now more than ever was a good time to find out what Malachi wanted.

  He mirrored Ella’s movements and settled himself onto the ground. His ribs ached as he moved and the throbbing in his head jumped into overdrive. Pressing his hand against his temple didn’t ease the pain.