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

The sound of moving water grew louder until she saw the sparkling river. The others were right. It was slow. Eddies swirled with bright white foam, suggesting some kind of movement. Otherwise, she would have sworn the water was motionless.

The moss trailed right into the water, making the river seem as though it were flooding onto the land. It could very well be, for all she knew. However, Mercy hoped that it was always like this. Land meeting water seamlessly.

Splashing caught her attention. Slowly, she turned her head to look upstream. And immediately froze.

Jasper. Shirtless. Or probably more than just shirtless, considering he was bathing.

Mercy should have guessed Priscilla and Tiny had something up their sleeves. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and leaned against the nearest tree.

He really was quite the specimen. He could have been a poster child for what a man should look like. His shoulders were wide, nearly too wide for his tapered waist. Despite his ribs showing — likely due to his time in Malachi’s dungeon — powerful muscles rippled beneath his skin as he scrubbed his shoulders.

She couldn’t tell if there were scars decorating the pale flesh from this distance, but she would bet money that there were. He was built like a fighter. It was the first thing she had admired about him.

Wet hair slicked back from his face to trail below his shoulders. She hadn’t noticed his hair was quite that long. Wavy hair had a way of seeming shorter than it actually was. Even his beard was longer while wet.

She snorted. Leave it to Jasper to appear even larger while wet. He obviously was not related to any kind of dog species.

Mercy started picking her way across fallen branches. His back was towards her, wings spread wide and held high above the water. She wondered if he wasn’t able to get them wet. A dragonfly wouldn’t like getting wet either. And they certainly looked as though they should belong to some kind of iridescent insect.

Once she was close enough to make out individual strands of hair plastered along the long line of his back, she leaned against another tree. Ignes pushed up from her chest. Instead of allowing him a peek, Mercy shook her head, placed a single finger against his forehead, and pushed him back down into his fireproof pouch.

This one was for her.

He was holding sand, she realized. He kept ducking down into the water and coming back up with handfuls of white grit. Then, he would scrub it over his flesh until his pale skin turned pink.

He even had freckles. She ran her tongue over her teeth as they were revealed underneath the dirt and grime. Freckles. Of all things, the man had to be covered in tiny starlike dots.

And he still hadn’t noticed her. She ran a hand down her mouth. She could gawk at him all day, but it would take until nightfall for him to see her.

“Could be anyone sneaking up on you,” she called out.

He jumped, tripped on a stone, and fell deep into the water. He came up spluttering, his fists raised.

He looked like some kind of Sea God when he stood like that. Streams of water traveled down his chest and dripped from the impressive length of his beard. He radiated power and anger. Too bad the pink, sodden wings on his back ruined the sight.

She covered her mouth with her hand but was certain her smile showed in the crinkles at her eyes.

Jasper lowered his fists with a splash.

“Mercy, damn it!” he scolded. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Or what? You’ll splash me?”

“I’ll have you know, most people are afraid of me.”

“Most people underestimate me.” She smirked. “But you don’t see me day dreaming in a river while suspiciously naked.”

“You bathe fully clothed?”

He was teasing her. She was certain of it. Two could play at that game, she thought, as she pushed herself from the tree and walked towards the pile of his clothing. With one finger, she delicately lifted his shirt into the air.

“I do believe most people refrain from being caught in compromising positions while being hunted.”

Jasper’s hands had traveled to cover strategic parts of his body while she spoke. “Most people grow weary after weeks of dirt and sweat.”

“Most people, I’m certain of it.”

She sat on top of his clothing. Cocking her head to the side, she looked him over with one sweeping glance. He was obviously expecting her to say something. She could see it in his eyes and the untrusting way he hesitated. So she said nothing.

Mercy wanted to see how long it would take for him to come to her. Like a wild animal, perhaps he needed to make the first step.

It didn’t take long.

He blew out an exasperated breath. “Are you just going to sit there?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes you uncomfortable.”

“And you enjoy making me uncomfortable.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

Ignes wiggled against Mercy’s stomach. He was likely feeling cooped up, and she supposed she couldn’t really blame him. She reached between her breasts and scooped him out of his pouch. The tiny lizard harrumphed as she placed him on the ground.

He lifted one foot to shake the cool water off, then the other that were now sizzling. He muttered about ungrateful hosts as he skittered towards the woods.

Only once she was certain he was safe did she look back towards Jasper. Now he was the one watching her. He had tracked every bit of her interaction with the Phoenix.

“What?” she asked. “You look as though you want to ask me a question.”

“You’re different here.”

“Am I?” She hadn’t really thought about it. Mercy was as volatile as a forest fire. She was frequently changing.

He gestured with his free hand in the direction Ignes had traveled. “Even with him. In the prison you were more reliant on his powers. Now you seem content to allow him to wander as he sees fit.”

“He’s not a human child, and he’s