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

Slowly, Wren shook her head, and Burke’s borrowed body burst. He was the smoke once more and stared down in shock as the creature looked away from him again. One of her delicate hands was raised, and he found himself tossed out of her dream like a ragdoll.

Whatever that creature was, it was far more powerful than him. Shaken and worried, he traveled back towards his body. Burke was incredibly weak after that meeting, but he was certain he would be able to get home.

That thing had wanted nothing to do with him, but regardless, he had received the information he needed. Her name was Wren, she made Juice, and she lived in a city. There were plenty around the Five, and it shouldn’t take too long for him to find a producer of Juice with such an odd name.

The journey home took much less time than he expected. He settled into his skin with a sigh and breathed in deeply. His spine cracked so loud that the sound echoed in the underground room. He couldn’t feel his legs but knew that the pins and needles would start very soon.

The pain would be worth it. He had found the information that he needed, and soon he would track her down. Little, mad Wren who used dreams to make Juice would be found sooner than the creature inside her wished.

Thankfully, he hadn’t let either of them know what he looked like.

CHAPTER 2

T  he bells to her shop jangled early for the usual crowd. Wren was trying to restock the Juice she had made the night before but found that her mind was wandering. She hadn’t slept very well, though she could only slightly remember her dreams.

There had been pain. She was certain of that. Her ankle had hurt when she had rolled out of bed, and her mind had felt foggy. A lingering feeling of discomfort or perhaps anger made her strive to remember what she had seen, but the dream remained out of her reach no matter how hard she tried to remember the details. Whatever had happened, she brushed it aside like the rest of her adventures in the Dream World. She didn’t need to remember dreams when her real life was falling to pieces.

Literally. She glanced at the hole in the ceiling above her head with a sour expression. She was going to have to tack a rug up there so no one noticed. Or maybe another curtain. There were already a few hanging in sheer fabrics to give the room some “atmosphere”. No one would notice if she put up another one. Right?

“I’ll be right over!” she shouted as she got up on her tiptoes to try and reach a bottle that needed to be moved to the lower shelves. She was perched precariously on top of an old library ladder that had seen better days. One of her feet popped off of the rung as if she might be able to reach a little farther if she stretched onto her tiptoe.

Only then did she realize the silence in her shop. Usually, the people that came into her store were talking loudly or would at least make conversation with her. Everyone in this area knew who she was, and though they found her slightly odd, they would always make small talk.

She blinked at the vials and tried to catch a glimpse of whomever had walked into her store by their reflection. Unfortunately, they were so dusty that she couldn’t see anything. Wren spat onto her thumb to rub one of the bottles with a loud squeak. She could only see a dark shadow behind her once the glass was clean.

“Pitch, if you’ve ruined my night…” she muttered as she slowly turned.

Wren dangled from the ladder one handed as she turned around to look. Her hair slid over her shoulder like dark silk. She was nearly falling off of the ladder, but she didn’t worry. If she fell, it was only bruises that waited for her. The ground wasn’t all that far away after all.

The man standing at the counter was not someone she recognized. Wren didn’t like that. People around here were regulars, and those who weren’t were going to cause trouble. Wren didn’t have time for trouble.

He wore a long leather jacket that fit snug across his broad shoulders. Gold buttons nearly blinded her when the light caught on the rows that followed the broad expanse of his chest. Military jacket, if she remembered correctly.

Black pants covered his legs, but it was his eyes that she couldn’t look away from. A ring of vivid green circled his pupils and complimented the aristocratic arch of his nose and the jut of his strong jaw. Blonde curls were cropped close to his skull which was far higher in the air than any head had a right to be.

He was a handsome devil that was for certain. But Wren had found that “devil” was a word to look out for when meeting someone like him.

“Can I help you?” she asked. Breathless, she tried to convince herself that the lack of air was due to hard work. Not him.

“Not me, no.”

Wren wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re in a store you know. People usually come in when they need to buy something.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but the doors behind him jangled open as a group of young men came in. They were already laughing, and Wren knew exactly what they were here for. She had to lean to the side drastically to grin at them, because the other man was in the way.

As she leaned, the unknown man lurched forward. The bar stopped him, and Wren gave him a confused look as his hands clenched on the wooden edge. Did he really think she was going to fall? He didn’t know her well enough to think he could catch her if she slipped. And if she did,