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

him to be in her shop. He didn’t visit her, and sometimes she thought he didn’t even like her. Pitch didn’t like anyone.

And yet somehow Burke had managed to get into Pitch’s party just by flashing a badge. Pitch didn’t work for M.O.M. He certainly didn’t follow their laws. It didn’t make sense that Burke could get in on that alone.

She flushed with anger as pieces began to click together in her mind. Burke’s disappearance. Pitch admitting to know who Burke was. Pitch showing up out of nowhere and suddenly sitting in the exact same seat Burke used to sit in.

Her feet were moving. Wren didn’t know when she had moved away from her counter and started stomping towards Pitch. She didn’t recollect making the decision to yell at him, but that was how her life had been going lately. Decisions were being made without her, so it only made sense that her body had jumped on that train.

“Who do you work for?”

His grim expression did not change as her finger pointed in his face. “Watch what you say, little bird.”

“I’m not scared of you, Pitch! Who do you work for?”

The shout seemed to echo in the room as her startled patrons stared. One by one, they stood to leave. Though they would normally be entertained by a fight, no one wanted to see what happened when Pitch got angry.

“Take your finger out of my face,” he growled at her.

“You don’t tell me what to do! Do you or do you not work for the same people as Burke?”

“I don’t.”

“You’re lying to me.” She leaned down to press her palms against the table and leaned over him until their noses nearly touched. “Because that’s what you do. You lie.”

He exhaled, and she could feel the hot breath dance across her face. “You don’t want to make me angry, Wren. I don’t work for anyone that Burke works for.”

Wren stared into his eyes. She hoped that she might be able to see something in those black depths. A flicker of emotion or truth or something that would have helped her understand the man that was glaring back at her.

But there was nothing in his gaze. There never was.

“If you don’t work for them then you need to leave.”

“I have to talk to you, Wren. We have to talk about that night.”

“You mean the night you threw me to the wolves and watched?” She leaned back then, her fists planted onto her hips as she tossed her head back. The laugh that burst forth from her mouth was sarcastic and cruel. “Or perhaps you’re interested to know more about the bodies I left behind? Is that it? You want to peek into my head and figure out the Curiosity?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Of course you do.” Her lip curled into a sneer. “That’s not your place, Demon. Now get out of my shop before I make you.”

The silent creature within her stirred.

“You can’t follow through on that threat.”

“You did it once, E.” She didn’t bother to hide her conversation. She knew that Pitch was listening and wanted him to hear her. “You can do it again.”

Though the creature inside of her remained silent, she understood that it was unhappy. She had never demanded anything from E. Only that it remain a faithful companion and that she would return the favor. Now that she knew what it was capable of, E worried she would attempt to use it to her advantage.

But she didn’t know what it was capable of. She didn’t know what she was capable of with this creature inside of her.

Pitch stood slowly, smoothed his hands down his chest, and nodded. “Fine then. I’ll leave. But remember this moment and remember that I tried to warn you.”

The sharp thwacks of his boots against her floor slowly faded until she heard the jingling bell of her front door. Only then did the tension ease out of her shoulders, which instantly slumped. Her customers were gone. Her life was falling apart. The man she had considered to be at least a vague sort of friend was gone.

Both of them.

She sighed and locked the door. She wasn’t going to be getting any work done tonight, and she doubted anyone would return. Why would they? They probably thought her shop had already been razed to the ground after the explosion of Pitch’s anger.

The harsh click of the lock on her door sounded like the end of an era. She was going to have to figure out something else to do with her life. There were too many changes; too many oddities were happening around her too recently for her to stay the same.

“You’re feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Of course I am,” she murmured as she turned to look at the shop, which was falling apart. She loved this shop. Even though the ceiling was crumbling and the floor was warped, it had been her home for so long. Every nook and cranny had been patched with her own hands at least once. Her life blood had been poured into keeping this place open.

“Change isn’t always bad.” Today, E’s voice was the one Wren was most familiar with. The voice was that of an older woman. It was a motherly tone that always made Wren compare it to being wrapped in a warm wool blanket with a cup of tea in her hands.

She shook her head. “No it’s not.” As she moved towards her apartment, her fingers danced upon the edge of the counter. Long fingers with blunt nails trailed along the dark wood edge as she walked passed in a graceful movement.

“But you are frightened of it?”

“I’d have to be crazy if I wasn’t.” The bottles and vials glinted for a few moments in her eyes as she paused at the stairwell to her apartment. Everything in this place was a reassurance to Wren. It was her home, yes, but it was also her safety blanket. To change these things was to change herself.

“You have never