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

as she wanted him to be. She had never been known to be a particularly patient woman.

“Okay, look. I came all the way here to talk. Malachi needs to be stopped, and we think that you are supposed to help us.”

“We?”

She stuttered, “Y-You may be part of a prophecy that could save our world. Malachi wants to cleanse the earth of all humans, which means that magical creatures would also die. If we don’t-”

“We.”

There was nothing more infuriating in this world than being interrupted. Lyra huffed out a breath and rushed to finish the speech. “If we don’t stop him then the entire world will suffer. There, I said what I had to say. Now you’re supposed to come with me.”

“To meet ‘we’,” he repeated in a tone which suggested he was unimpressed.

“What?”

“You keep referring to yourself as multiples. I am certain that there are not many ‘Lyras’, which leads me to believe that you are not speaking for yourself.”

“Well.” She blinked. “Of course I’m not. Did Wolfgang not tell you that I work for the Five?”

“Oh, I know who you are employed with. I want to hear your words. Not theirs.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that. She didn’t know how to respond to any of the things that were happening to her right now. The man had still not managed to turn around and actually look at her.

“I don’t understand.”

“You didn’t come here to tell me what the Five wish me to hear.”

Again, that deep voice made a small shudder travel through her body. “Another asked me to relay a message to you,” she said.

“Pitch has no right to speak to those who are under my protection.”

“What?” She was stunned he knew that Pitch had visited her. But then there was another glaring issue. “I’m under your protection?”

He remained silent.

“Why?” she asked.

Again, he said nothing.

“I need you to turn around.”

“No.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” she sternly replied. “Turn around.”

He didn’t have an option in her opinion. He would turn around, or she would walk over and force him to turn around. She would not speak to someone’s back. Rudeness would not be tolerated, no matter how powerful the man was.

He hesitated just long enough to make her blood boil before he slowly turned towards her.

“And the hood,” she snapped.

The bones in his hands were so prominent that she almost winced. Surely hands that fragile would break if he touched anything. Or perhaps it was the bone white skin tone darkened with lines of blue veins that made her uncomfortable.

Ghostly hands pulled back the hood to reveal a face that made her swallow hard. The hollows of his cheeks were so deep she could see the outline of his teeth. His brow jutted forward nearly as far as the prominent jaw and square chin. The strength the face might have held was diminished by his gaunt form. But even that painful thinness she could have handled in stride.

She was most bothered by the scars.

His skin was pocked with long and thin scars. Some were curved in jagged edges along the high angle of his forehead. A few deepened the cleft in his chin. One traveled down his cheek in a deep gouge. They laced his skin like a patchwork quilt of pain.

The underside of his jaw was entirely black. A tattoo, she realized. A tattoo that covered every inch of his throat in shadows. Even his ears had been blackened. Tendrils of black had been painfully inked into the shell of each ear.

Now she was the one being rude. Lyra was gaping at him as though she had never seen a strange looking man before. He was not shocking compared to the darker creatures whose human bodies were twisted by magic.

Perhaps it was the electric shock that came along with the sight of him. That and the emaciated shoulders that dipped downwards to those hands tipped by ragged nails. Whichever it was, Lyra was made infinitely uncomfortable by the sight of him.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Finally, he raised his gaze to meet hers. Mismatched eyes stared back at her. One black as night and cold as the grave. The other so blue it could rival the sky.

“It’s you. But, there can’t be two of you,” she said in shock.

“I can assure you, there are not two of me.”

Her breath whooshed out of her as her lips parted. “But there are. I know those eyes. I’ve seen those eyes in a very different face.”

Once more, he said nothing. The Graverobber bowed his head until all she could see were the network of scars that prevented hair from growing across one half of his skull.

“No,” she growled. “No you don’t get to brush me aside. You’ve been lying to me.”

“I have not uttered any lies. Not to you.”

“But you have! You are not Wolfgang.”

“I am.”

“You are lying again!”

She couldn’t control her words or her hands from shaking. This was a betrayal she had not expected. Wolfgang had told her he was the Graverobber, but he wasn’t. This man was not the strong, tall, good looking ghost that had kept her attention. This was a monster who lived underneath the ground.

“I needed to get you here,” he argued.

“No, you needed to play your games. Just like every other Lord.”

“It was for you.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” she snorted. “I will not listen to you. I am not interested in any more of your lies. This was a waste of my time and a waste of yours.”

“It is not. We have both come here because fate dictated it.”

She snorted. “Right, fate. Tell me exactly what fate has in store for us, Graverobber. Or is it you who wanted me here?”

“I-I—” he stuttered.

“You what?”

“I had thought-—”

“You thought, of course. That’s all you have to tell me? Spit it out!”

“No one ever speaks to me like this.” His voice grew deeper as something dark shaded his eyes.

“Then you’ve never met anyone like me before. I am not afraid of you. I am