Black Blood (Series of Blood Book 4)

by Emma Hamm

  “Father?” The ragged whisper was stained with the lingering taste of his own magic. “All Father?”

  “No one has called me that for a very long time.”

  “You all died.”

  “Not all.”

  She skittered forward, moving on all fours like an animal. “We watched you die.”

  “You watched four gods and goddesses die. I survived.”

  “Creator?” She reached forward and touched her fingertips to his arm. “Is it really you?”

  He hated hearing that tone. The reverence was something he did not miss from the ancient past. Too many creatures of Light had called their creators gods. The Dark Five had not cared for such terms. They had made life from nothing, yes, but they could take it away just as easily.

  They were not gods.

  Her eyes were watering and through the tenuous connection with his skin, Pitch could feel her emotions. Legion was so happy that it was no longer alone in this world. It was relieved that it had finally found someone who understood it. Not just someone, but the one who had given it breath.

  For a creature who had thousands of souls, it was incredibly alone.

  He sighed and opened his arms. Though Legion was not a child, it curled into his lap as though it could finally come home.

  Tiny hands fisted in the lapels of his jacket. “You were dead, and we were alone for so long. Where did you go, All Father?”

  “I’ve always been here,” Pitch ran his hands down her spine. “I never promised to watch over you. In fact, I believe I did the exact opposite of that.”

  “You wanted us to live our own lives.”

  “And did you?”

  “Thousands of them.”

  He hummed. “Good, that is the choice I would have made for you. I am proud.”

  The words made Legion shudder. The little girl it possessed was no longer at the forefront, and Pitch doubted she even knew what was happening. Her mind couldn’t take such stress. He was thankful for it. Explaining to an eight-year-old what connection he had to Legion was not a conversation he wanted to have.

  He shifted them, moving the weight of her body completely into his lap before his legs fell asleep. “And now you possess a human child? I wouldn’t have thought their minds capable of it.”

  “She’s strong.”

  “She must be to house all your souls. How have you not broken her?”

  “I have kept the souls from her. We have gotten very good at releasing only one at a time.”

  “Ah,” Pitch nodded. “That’s highly innovative. And it’s working?”

  “So far.”

  He hadn’t thought that possible, and he had made Legion. They never ceased to amaze him. His creations always took on a mind of their own, changing and adapting in ways he had never expected them to.

  It was the first reason why he thought his siblings might be wrong. These creatures weren’t just objects they had placed on a shelf. They could change, in most cases for the better, with no one telling them to do so.

  They were both strange and lovely.

  Pitch squinted his eyes, looking beneath the flesh of the little girl and at the soul trapped beneath her skin. There it was. The mass of wispy darkness he had created thousands of years ago.

  “You were one of my first creations, you know.” He flexed his hands. “I was always told that you were a mistake, a fanciful delusion that such a creature would ever survive. Feasting upon the souls of others was supposed to be evil, but you were never inclined to be bad. Even in the beginning.”

  “I don’t eat souls,” the words were strange coming out of a little girl’s mouth. “I save them.”

  He had known that, but listening to someone say it sparked a memory. Saving souls had been his intention all along. He had seen how many creatures had died, how many creations they were losing to the senseless war between Light and Dark. So he created a creature which would save them all, even if it was all housed within one mind.

  Perhaps he hadn’t always been evil after all.

  “You have returned after all these years?” Legion asked. “Why?”

  “I have been preparing us for an even larger battle than before.”

  “You will save the world?”

  He leaned back, peering down at its milky white eyes. “Why would you say that?”

  “We’ve known since you created us, since we absorbed our first Oracle, that you would save us all. We thought long ago that it would be our original dimension, but we were wrong. That one is gone, but the vision remains the same. You were meant to save us.”

  “Huh,” Pitch shrugged. “You’ve always surprised me, Legion.”

  He couldn’t leave the little girl here. She and her creature, although he had never recognized it before, were now his children. Legion did not deserve to be alone anymore. It didn’t deserve to wander the streets in the body of a little girl, wondering who would feed it next.

  Even for an ancient creature that kind of stress would wear upon its sanity. Legions were closer to insane then most. They walked the fine line of madness with the precision of a Tightrope performer, but even the talented could falter. Pitch couldn’t see that happen.

  “I’m growing soft in my old age,” he muttered. “I’m going to bring you somewhere safe.”

  “Where?”

  He didn’t answer. Lydia would approve of this choice. She was the reason why Pitch had any bit of kindness left in him. Strange as it was, he didn’t resent her for that new addition to his life.

  The little girl was limp in his arms as he stood. Legion released control over her body, but she did not complain. Perhaps the creature had explained who he was, perhaps she recognized him as part of herself. It didn’t matter. Trust was not required to keep her safe.

  His shadows pulled them into the darkness, melting their bodies into nothing and propelling them forward. The winds of night were easy to control. They bent to his will with few complaints and formed a shield to protect the girl.

  Her hand was so small. It almost made him uncomfortable. She snuggled against his shoulder, holding on to the back of his neck without hesitation.

  Trust. It was a notion he had forgotten in his long life.

  Shadows melted away, sticky strands oozing from their skin and disappearing. Pitch stared at the warm lights of the white farmhouse and smiled. This was the perfect place to bring a little girl for at least a few months of safety.

  She had fallen asleep. Her breathing was deep and even, her hands curled under her chin. Pitch was surprised she didn’t wake as he walked up the stairs and knocked on the red door.

  It opened to reveal a face he hated to see lined with age. Leo’s tufted ears twitched and his flat nose sniffed at the girl.

  “This is a sight I never thought I’d see. You father a child while I’ve been retired?”

  Pitch snorted. “Not recently. The little one isn’t mine, but the creature inside her is.”

  “Ah. Well, I suppose you’re here for a reason.”

  “She’s homeless, or so it seems. Might be one of the orphanage rats, but either way I found her in an alley, cold and afraid. I need you to look after her until I can find a place for her.”

  “When did you become such a softie?” Leo reached out claw-tipped hands. “I’ve never said no to helping a child. Give her here.”

  They transferred the child from father to new grandfather, and Pitch felt as though he were letting a part of himself go.

  “The creature inside her-”

  Leo interrupted him. “I know. If it’s one of yours, then I need to tread carefully.”

  “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Legion is precious to me.”

  Pitch reached out, smoothed the hair from her forehead, and smiled at her bleary eyes. She was barely awake and didn’t recognize him. That was how he needed to keep it.

  A strand of darkness slid from between his fingers. It hovered in the air before sinking into her temple. “You will not remember me,”
he murmured. “You will only remember a shadow, and all memories of Leo will take my place. I will watch out for you, but you never met me before.”

  Her eyes rolled back, and she fell into a deep sleep, tucked into the warmth of Leo’s arms.

  The Cat Shifter stared at Pitch with an unreadable expression. “You took her memories?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t want her to remember you at all?”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  Pitch turned to leave.

  “Pitch,” Leo called out. “You’ve never wanted to be the hero, have you?”

  “No.”

  But he would be the hero if the world needed him to be.

  Chapter 12

  Pitch materialized on the front lawn, his hands shaking. He had left the girl in trusted hands. She would be fine with Leo as so many others had been. But he couldn’t wash away the lingering feeling of responsibility. She was his just as much as Legion was.

  He had never been a father, but perhaps he should have been.

  These were thoughts for another time. Saving the world was first, then dealing with his confusing emotions for Lydia, and then he could deal with the numerous creations he had never interacted with.

  The front door was open. His brows furrowed in confusion. He had left that locked; he was certain of it. Now that the house lacked its usual magic, Louis had been doing much of the work the house had once done.

  “If that Cat left the front door wide open, I’m going to fire him.” Pitch grumbled as he rushed up the stairs.

  He crossed the threshold, breaking through the silencing spell which hovered in a bubble around his abode. His senses were at once assaulted with the cloying weight of magic, the clattering of footsteps running down the stairs, and screaming.

  Lydia was screaming.

  His stomach dropped and his palms slicked with sweat. Louis tumbled down the last few steps.

  “Pitch!” he shouted. “The lady, she’s-”

  He didn’t wait to hear what the Cat Shifter would say. He took the stairs two at a time, his shadows boiling around him. Every breath she took between screams made him run faster. He ignored Louis’s frantic shouts and busted through the door to her bedroom.

  The hinges groaned and shattered. Wood splintered beneath his shoulder, the door falling to the floor with a resounding bang.

  Lydia huddled against the headboard. Her hands pressed against her eyes so forcefully he feared she might tear out her eyes. The blankets had been ripped from the mattress and tossed all around the room.

  Clattering footsteps echoed behind him and Louis was breathless as he spoke. “Pitch. I was trying to tell you.”

  Her hands flew away from her face. Tangled blonde strands stuck to the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Pitch?”

  His name on her lips was the sound of angels singing. He dissolved into shadows and materialized at her side. “What is wrong?”

  She reached for him, her hands patting the sides of the bed until she made contact. She turned her head, and he saw them. Her eyes.

  Dark threads of magic weaved underneath her skin. The infection had spread from her eyes to her temples, the strands undulating. The blown out pupil had returned to normal size but all colored had leached from her irises.

  Her eyes were now an unnerving shade of pink. They moved restlessly in her head as though searching for something. He recognized this magic.

  “Lydia, darling, what did they do to you?”

  She clenched his fingers. “I can’t see anything. Why can’t I see anything?”

  “How did this happen?”

  “I was traveling. I saw a strand of your past, and it reached out to me.”

  Pitch tensed. He tried to keep his hands relaxed so she wouldn’t know, but he saw the furrows of her brows. She was becoming more perceptive to his moods. “My past is dangerous.”

  “Sil was there.”

  “What?”

  “I spoke with her. Not in messages she had left, but really spoke with her. She said it was important that I know what happened so that I understand you. But then she was gone, and I had no protection. Your siblings-”

  She was choking on the words. They stuck in her throat and the dark infection bracketing her eyes pulsed with power.

  He knew what they had done. This wasn’t the first time they had laughed at his misfortune. They had taken his first bride, and though they could not kill Lydia, they could maim her.

  “I am so sorry,” he said. “I should have been there.”

  “You were.” She gulped. “I saw you and what you did to them. Pitch, you should have destroyed them when you had the chance.”

  “How could I destroy them? They are as much a part of me as you are now.”

  He had never voiced his emotions to her. He had never admitted how important she had become.

  It wasn’t the right time. He should be delicate and romantic for her. But he had never been that kind of man. Pitch didn’t know how to be gentle or sweet. He knew how to take until there was nothing left to give.

  “Pitch, now is not the time to tell me that.”

  “I know, it is selfish to do so. I’m sorry, love, let me try to help.”

  She caught his hands when he pressed them against her temples. “No, listen to me. I wanted to see your face the moment you admitted your love. I wanted to know it was true by the look in your eyes.”

  “Do you need to see me to know the truth?” His tone was too harsh, but he could not soften it. “Can you not taste it in the air? Can you not hear my heart in every word? Do you not feel it?”

  He tangled his fists in her hair. Pulling too hard, turning his words bitter with the harsh bite of pain.

  Darkness was not soft. It turned the world dim and emptied all colors into vague shapes. Monsters roamed in the darkness, and Pitch was their king.

  He jerked her forward, hungrily devouring her mouth. He sipped brightness from her tongue, nipped pieces of her happiness from her lips, tried to crawl inside the haven of her body and mind.

  And with each gasping breath, he drew out the effects of his siblings. He accepted their blasphemous stains upon his own soul to keep her pure. Anything to preserve the hymns he heard in her voice, the chapel bells of her smile, the salvation of her embrace.

  He was losing form. Every bit of poison he drew from her skin sank talons into his control. His psyche shredded under the weight of anger and madness she had controlled with little more than lost eyesight.

  “Pitch,” she whispered against his lips, “you’re taking too much.”

  “Never enough.”

  She wasn’t having it. His shadows swelled around them, and she sank her hands deep into the murky darkness of his power. She glowed. Her peace and serenity overpowered the madness of his siblings, of their power, of his own magic which desired to maim and hurt. She eased the wounds of the past and pieced together the tattered edges of his pride.

  “Enough!” she cried out. The angry sizzle of her magic burned the edges of his shadows. “You will hurt yourself.”

  “Losing you would hurt more than darkness.”

  “You’ll turn yourself into something you're not.” She pressed her palms against his cheeks, forcing his gaze toward her. “I can see colors again, that is enough.”

  “I won’t let them break you.”

  “Losing my sight wouldn’t break me. Have a little more faith than that.”

  He stared into her odd eyes, discomfited by the effect he had on her life. He smoothed his thumb along her jaw. “I have done so much to you. How have you not broken?”

  “I see why you have done it all, Pitch. I understand why you had to do what you did.”

  “But my siblings -”

  “Everything is falling into place. To see the future, I needed her power. To desire to stay here, I needed you. And to see the world as it truly is, I had to lose my sight.” She leaned forward, ghosting her lips over his. “I do not regret your choices, although the pain and
fear will sometimes crumble my resolve.”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “You are far too good for this world.”

  “I was screaming only moments ago. I am not yet strong enough to save everyone.”

  “We will do it together.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Pitch released his tight grip on her hair. He was afraid of his desperate emotions. Just the mere thought of losing her, that her pain had been his fault, sent him into a blinding rage so dangerous he wasn’t certain they would survive it. But Lydia had calmed him. Effortlessly, so it seemed.

  His hands stroked the graceful curves of her horns. He smoothed his fingers down the silken strands of hair, across the beloved curves of her cheeks, the graceful lines of her collarbones.

  “I am sorry it took this long to help.”

  “You saved me countless times over, Pitch.” Lydia said. “You gave me back even the smallest bit of my sight. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  Louis cleared his throat.

  Pitch chuckled, shaking his head against hers with a rueful grin. “I thought we still lived alone.”

  “No. You hired a maid.”

  “I forgot I called him that.”

  “He hasn’t.”

  Pitch leaned back with a sigh. “Yes, Louis?”

  “I just wanted to make sure everything was all right now. The lady was screaming awfully loud.”

  Lydia tucked herself into the curve of Pitch’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for frightening you, Louis. I was in pain and wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “You aren’t in pain anymore?”

  He caught her wince before she answered. “Not nearly as bad as I was. Pitch helped.”

  “Well all right,” Louis hovered by the door, hesitating. “Will you be needing anything else?”

  “Go on, Louis. I’ll take care of her.”

  Pitch was almost insulted that Louis didn’t leave immediately. One might think the Cat Shifter didn’t trust him. Why was it that no one ever trusted him?

  Other than his own creations that was. Legion hadn’t hesitated to give over its body to his care. That was far more trust than just keeping a single person company.

  Maybe he was just keeping company with the wrong people.