Silver Blood (Series of Blood Book 1) Emma Hamm (mobile ebook reader .TXT) 📖

“Wrennie!”

She winced when she heard the nickname. She hated it when they called her that. “Hello, boys. The usual?”

“Aw, you know us too well.”

Of course she did. They were in here every weekend for the same thing. Everyone loved her Juice, and these boys wanted a little bit of danger without having to worry about getting hurt. She gave them the feeling of Adventure. It was a dangerous blend of Euphoria and Fear. The boys always loved it.

Wren made sure to keep them in a back room every weekend. They could get a little rowdy, and she didn’t need any more things in her front room broken. Like that hole in the ceiling. That was going to bother her for the entire night. She stared up at the offending black space as she found their vials.

“I happen to have a little bit of it waiting for you.” She spun on her heel to grasp the bottle that contained the lime green smoke. It held more than the average amount of smoke and was on the shelf precisely for these men.

“Aw, Wrennie, what would we do without you?” the boy asked as he handed her coins.

“I suspect you’d be fine.” The coins clinked in her hand with a satisfying clack. Though she was loath to admit it, the sound of jangling coins was one of her favorites.

They wandered away from her to the back room they knew was theirs, and she blew a breath at the stray hair that had stuck to the teal lipstick on her mouth.

“What can I do for you then?” She turned towards the unknown man and propped a hip against the counter.

He was giving her a puzzled expression that she didn’t quite like. She wasn’t some kind of enigma for this man to figure out. He didn’t know her, and she didn’t know him. That didn’t mean they needed to know each other. Wren didn’t know that many people. She didn’t want to. Knowing someone led to trouble, and she’d already had her fair share of that.

“Well?” Her tone was a little on the heated side, but she didn’t have time for someone to stand around staring at her all night.

“Your hair should be red.”

She blinked at him. “Red?”

Her hair had not been red for many months. She changed her hair color nearly as often as she changed her clothes. Right now it was black, tomorrow it might be white. All of it came with the added help of magic that could change her hair without any work at all. Drink a little potion and suddenly she was staring at pink hair the next morning. It was lovely.

“The last time I saw you, your hair was red.”

“I haven’t had red hair for a very long time.”

“I could have swore it was only a few nights ago.”

“Mm.” She pursed her lips as she looked him up and down. The sweater she wore started to slip down her shoulder. “You’ve got the wrong woman. And I don’t have time to be standing around all night talking. You buying or not?”

“Not.”

“Then you can leave. I’m sorry, but this store is for patrons only.”

It was a little harsh. She wouldn’t have refused anyone space in her home, and the locals knew that. Wren even let a few people crash in her apartment when they had a particularly bad day. She worked nights. She didn’t care who was in her apartment while she was gone.

But this man? He put her on edge. There was something about the direct gaze of his eyes that made her feel as though he was peeling her open. He wouldn’t find anything underneath her acerbic attitude other than a regular Curiosity.

Maybe that was why he had wandered into her shop. People tended to want to gawk at Curiosities as though they were some kind of zoo animal. Wren didn’t like it one bit when people asked if she put her pants on the same way. She wasn’t a freak, and she didn’t exhibit any oddities that came with hosting a magical creature.

Even Rupert had horns. Wren just looked like a boring human.

“I’ll take a little Calm then.” His voice cut through her thoughts like the sun cut through clouds.

That wasn’t the right analogy at all. She scowled at him before turning to find the bottle. His voice was more like a blade cutting through flesh or a hacksaw wielded by a butcher. At least that made her feel a little bit better about the voice that sounded like whiskey and was a hell of alot easier to swallow.

“Get ahold of yourself, Wren,” she muttered as she wrapped her fingers around the pale blue liquid.

“Don’t like him.”

“Me either.” She was staring at her reflection in the bottle as she spoke under her breath. People got uncomfortable when she talked out loud. Most people spoke to their magical creature in their own heads, but Wren had never managed that. E wanted to speak to her like a normal person, and she wasn’t about to insult it.

“He’s slimey.”

“I wouldn’t say slimey at all.” Mysterious, intriguing, and thought provoking were a few words that came to mind. “But I don’t trust him even for a second.”

“You shouldn’t. Good thinking, girl.” It sounded like E had chosen the disguise of a man at the moment. E didn’t usually lean towards the masculine side, but Wren wasn’t going to complain. The male voice was comforting in a time like this. It made her feel a little more powerful.

“You sound like you know him,” she murmured as she turned back towards the counter.

“I don’t think so. But there’s something about him that is familiar, and I am not impressed. Stay away from him, girl.”

She didn’t remember meeting him either. E, as far as she knew, had never had control over her body when she wasn’t aware of what it was doing. It was a pact they had made a long time ago. They wouldn’t