Red Blood (Series of Blood Book 2) Emma Hamm (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📖

He shook his head and moved to stand up. He wasn’t going anywhere, and she didn’t want whoever was coming to attack them to realize they did not have the advantage of surprise. Despite his declarations that he did not enjoy being touched, she frantically leaned forward to slam her hand down on his wrist.

Her hand went straight through his and slapped loudly against the table. Once more she was the annoying woman at the corner table making noise, but this time she did not mind. Instead, her jaw fell open as she stared down at her hand, which was now inside his.

“You’re not real,” she whispered. Her eyes traveled up to meet his horrified expression. “You’re not real.”

“I’m real.”

“You’re not a Red Blood.”

“I am a Red Blood.”

“Then what are you.” The words were a statement, not a question. He was impossible if he were none of those things. A Red Blood did not have magic, yet magic had made his form corporeal.

She could hear the door rattle. There were men at the door; she could see them from the corner of her eyes. She didn’t recognize them, and therefore they weren’t something she needed to worry about right now. Wolfgang’s eyes pulled away from hers to stare at the door.

“We don’t have time to talk right now, Lyra,” he murmured.

“We have plenty of time. Don’t look at them, look at me.”

He didn’t.

Jasper was shouting into her ear to wait for them, that there were seven men and that things were about to get dodgy. That was the way that Lyra preferred life. She was fully capable of fighting seven men and enjoying herself.

She wasn’t capable of understanding this man in front of her who wasn’t real.

The door burst open and slammed hard against the wall. Three of the men sprinted into the room. They didn’t bother covering their faces, which made her think that they were over confident that no one was leaving here alive. She had seen this tactic before.

Two of the men began to take care of the others in the cafe, and the waitress started screaming. One, a larger man dressed entirely in army fatigues, continued to sprint directly towards her.

“God, I hate men,” she growled.

Lyra had a few seconds to catch the confused expression on Wolfgang’s face before the man was within range. Her purse was quickly tossed over her shoulder in preparation for the fight. She grabbed an orb from inside her bag and chucked the delicate glass towards the big man.

It struck him directly in the forehead and burst in a beautiful cloud of grey glitter. He slowed as his vision disappeared for the few moments that Lyra needed.

Her chair was kicked out from under her as she leapt into motion. She swung her leather clad leg over the table and used it to propel her body into the air. Her long ponytail swung in a graceful arc that spun around her body like a ribbon as her toes pointed. The sturdy leather of her boot connected with the man’s head in a solid crack before he dropped to the ground.

She followed him, landing lightly in a crouch as she whipped her ponytail back. All in all, it was an impressive showcase of fighting abilities that was supposed to make a very clear point. Men should not fuck with her.

Somehow they always did though. She wanted the other two men out of this cafe. It was easier fighting in the streets than with tables and innocents in the way.

“Give me that knife!” she shouted at Wolfgang.

“Oh so you don’t think I’m real, but I can pick up knives now?”

“Just do it!”

A knife was slid across the floor towards her. She picked it up to throw but paused when she saw it wasn’t the knife that was on the table. This blade was well balanced and had a wicked serrated edge.

“Yours?” she asked.

“A personal favorite.”

“Huh, too bad.” She threw the knife towards one of the men and smiled as it sunk deep into his thigh.

He was close enough that she could reach him before he yanked the blade out of his leg. “That knife is resting against your femoral artery. If you pull it out, you will die.”

She treasured the shocked expression the man gave her. Patting him lightly on the thigh, she plucked another orb from her purse and cracked it over his head. “Sleep now.”

There was no time to wait to ensure that the second man was truly drifting off to sleep. He was already sliding to the ground as she stood to survey the damage in the cafe. It was worse than she expected, but the third man was already disappearing through the front door.

Some of the patrons were crowded into a corner of the room. Fear made people do foolish things, so she pointed at them just in case. “Stay where you are, and do not come out until someone comes and gets you.”

A few tables were cracked in half. Food splattered the floor, and cracked tea cups were shattered in sharp piles. It was a shame that such expensive things had to be broken because there were men looking for her.

Lyra didn’t think for a moment that this wasn’t her fault. If they weren’t her men, and they weren’t Wolfgang’s, then these men were coming to bring her to a Lord. She was overwhelmed that so many people were paying for her mistakes. A trickle of water ran down her neck.

“Lyra.” Wolfgang’s voice made her flinch. She never flinched.

Time to get her shit together.

“We have to go out in the street, so they don’t hurt anyone else,” she said unsteadily.

He seemed to understand there was nothing else he could say. “Lead the way.”

The words worked magic. Lyra was so startled that she glanced over her shoulder to arch a brow. “You don’t want to be the hero who goes in first?”

He shrugged. “Why would I? You clearly have this situation handled without me. I’m just here