Blue Blood (Series of Blood Book 3) Emma Hamm (digital e reader txt) 📖

“You will not get away with this!”

“I already have.” Malachi’s grin widened, and he turned on his heel to walk away.

“And Lyra?” Jasper shouted. “Will you at least let her go?”

Bluebell stirred in his mind. “Oh, Jasper.”

Malachi’s shoulders shook. They rocked up and down until a booming laugh burst forth. It was a dark and ugly sound.

“Of course. I had forgotten I told you that.” Malachi wiped a false tear from his eye. “No, Jasper. I never had any of your friends locked away. The circumstances in which I captured you would be too difficult to repeat. But you certainly fell into my trap very easily.”

“And the woman?”

“What woman?”

Jasper pointed. Her hair fanned out from her head like blood flowing over the stone floor.

“Oh.” Malachi shook his head. “One day, she will become very useful to me. Until then, she’ll remain here. Alive, at the very least.”

He left. Malachi walked away from Jasper as though he had not just pulled the rug out from under him.

Jasper peeled his raw, bleeding hands from the iron bars and stumbled backwards. His friends were safe. He waffled between intense relief and self-deprecating anger. He had been foolish. Idiotic. A complete and total dumbass who should have listened to the voice in his head the first time.

He had trusted the world’s greatest enemy. He had condemned an innocent to suffer the same fate as him.

“Jasper?” Ella’s voice was quiet and gentle.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I’ll be fine.” He tried not to growl. It wasn’t Ella’s fault that he had been a fool.

“You brought her here,” Ella softly told him. “And it is likely she will be angry. But she is no longer in the World Tree. That has to count for something.”

“You know I didn’t do her any favors. I brought her to her death.”

“And you don’t know how long she had been locked away. Wherever she was, it was not a place she willingly chose to be.”

Jasper shook his head. “There is no way to know that for certain.”

“When was the last time you heard of a creature who willingly went to prison? I heard them talking. That is a prison unlike any other, I cannot believe she was there by her own choice.”

“Is it better to be locked away and blissfully ignorant, or to be aware of your own impending demise?”

“That’s not your decision to make for her. You can’t carry the burden of her choices. You freed her. It’s up to her to decide whether that is a gift or a curse.”

Theoretically, she was right. But the heavy weight bearing down upon his chest made it hard to breathe.

Jasper didn’t respond. Instead, he turned away and dropped to the ground. It offered little comfort.

Not that he deserved any comfort.

“You can’t blame yourself for everything,” Bluebell told him.

“This was my fault. I should have left her.”

“I don’t want to hear you complain anymore. It is done. You feel guilty because you are powerless to stop whatever is coming. Not because you did anything wrong.”

How long had he been surrounded by so many intelligent women? First Lyra told Jasper he was wrong, then Ella, and now Bluebell? He should be paying more attention.

He remained silent for a while. Rolling onto his back, he closed his eyes, hoping that a dream might calm him. Instead, his mind churned with memories of green plants and tall trees.

All around him, the sound of prisoners settling down to sleep echoed. It was the only thing they could do in the cages. There was barely enough room to pace.

The others quieted and, as always, the silence was damning. Stillness not unlike death fell over the rows of cells.

Then he heard the sound — the barest hint of movement. Nothing unusual. People moved in their sleep. But the crackle that followed made him turn his head.

She had moved. His mystery woman lay flat on her back with her arms at her sides. Strong, lean arms currently covered in flames.

The fire licked up her sides as though dancing. Arcs of light in yellows, reds, and oranges, so bright that she glowed like the sun. He wanted to devour the sight of her, but it hurt his eyes.

The strangest things danced upon her skin. Birds — made out of heat and air — lifted into flight, disappearing as they flew too far from her. Fish swam up her arms and through the curling waves of her hair. A fiery stallion galloped down the bridge of her nose, leaping from the tip to vanish in her cleavage.

He pulled himself toward her, drawn like a moth to a flame. He had never seen someone control their powers so completely in their sleep.

She stirred, and he froze. Her odd eyes opened. She exhaled long and loud, as though she hadn’t breathed in centuries.

“Darkness?” Her voice was not what he expected. He had thought she would sound as musical and graceful as her fire appeared. But her voice was nearly destroyed, little more than a croak with a raspy undertone. She did not speak with the smooth, oil slick fire of her magic. She spoke with the ashen remains left in the wake of a wildfire.

“You’re safe,” he told her after a few beats of silence. “You’re with us.”

“Who speaks?”

“My name is Jasper.”

“You sound familiar,” she murmured. “Like a voice from a dream.”

“I woke you.”

She stopped breathing. The dancing flames died down until all that remained was a lizard attached to her shoulder. “You?”

He didn’t think she wanted an answer, but he felt compelled to respond. “Me.”

“I cannot see you.”

“It is dark here. I’m to your right.”

She turned her head, and he was nearly struck dumb when her ombre eyes stared into his soul. “Fae.”

Jasper had forgotten his wings were exposed. They should have been flattened to his spine, but that was uncomfortable. He had grown too comfortable with them. The blush heating his cheeks nearly burned as hot as her flames. “Yes.”

She shook her head and turned away, muttering to