Blue Blood (Series of Blood Book 3) by Emma Hamm (books to read this summer .txt) 📕

but it was more than most creatures managed with their hosts. He would not go back to sleep, for nightmares waited in that dreaming place. Instead, he would lie on the ground and hold her hand.

Because she was scared, and he didn’t want her to be scared.

Jasper could not tell how much time had passed, but eventually he heard the sound he had come to despise. Clanging. Metal against metal and the inevitable cries of the fearful creatures awakened from their slumber.

Ella whimpered in her sleep. Bluebell instantly withdrew her command of his body, and Jasper slowly sat back up. He wanted to protect everyone in this place. He wanted to tear it down, stone by stone.

This time it was only the Troll wandering down the lanes of cages. Ugly, brutal, and putrid green in coloring, the creature stopped before his cage.

The Troll grunted.

Jasper arched a brow. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Get up.” The Troll’s voice was surprisingly high pitched.

“No.”

“Get up, or I will tell Malachi you decided you do not want his deal.”

That was enough to force Jasper to his feet. He wanted to get out of this place nearly more than he valued his own life. There was nothing that was going to stand in his way at this point. Leave, collect the valuable object, and return it to Malachi. Get Lyra, go home, and forget all this happened.

The mission should be simple. He hoped it would also be quick.

With another grunt, the Troll reached forward and unlocked the iron padlock on the gate. Gloves covered his hands, so he did not have to touch the iron. Curious, Jasper thought, that they would use a cage none of them could touch. It was certainly effective, but to all of them. Not just the prisoners.

The Troll stepped forward and grabbed ahold of Jasper’s arm. Its hand was larger than he had expected. There were only three fingers upon its hand digging into his flesh.

“Is that natural?” he asked.

He was guided from his cage without response.

“Oh come on, there’s no need to be so touchy about it. We’ve all got our oddities from being possessed.”

That got a reaction, though not the one Jasper had hoped for. The Troll whipped him around and slammed his face against the bars of a cage. Mashed into the iron, his skin immediately began to burn.

Pain trickled down his spine as the Troll grabbed his wings and viciously twisted. Jasper gritted his teeth, refusing to give the Troll any kind of response.

Ella was in this cage. He knew it as surely as he knew his wings were being crushed within the Troll’s three-fingered grip. He made himself calm and opened one of his eyes.

Of course, she was staring at the scene he was making in the middle of their prison. Still, he didn’t want Ella to be frightened. At least Bluebell had retreated to a safe place deep within their shared mind.

“Easy there, big guy; I was just trying to be friendly,” he grumbled.

The Troll slowly eased his grip, and Jasper winked at Ella. She watched him with wide eyes as he was led away.

Jasper wasn’t foolish enough to speak while they walked through the darkest pits of the prison. He didn’t want to get another rise out of the Troll now that he had the information he wanted.

This creature was very similar to its companions. Anger made it thoughtless. It would lash out at a big-mouthed man like Jasper because it considered itself to have been slighted. That was something Jasper could work with. Insults were easy when he was given such a large amount of material. Fighting came naturally after that.

Jasper was too tired to confidently say he’d beat the Troll in close quarters, but he would damn well try if it came to that. A Fairy didn’t have many magical skills. But he had trained his entire life for battle, even locked in a cell. Not to mention he had a lot of his own bulk to throw around.

They paused in front of a door. The Troll fumbled in a pocket at his waist and pulled out another key.

“What are we—” Jasper did not get to finish his question as the doors were thrown open, and illumination blinded him.

Grunting, he threw his free hand up to cover his eyes. He hadn’t seen bright light in weeks. Or was it months? He did not know that existing in near darkness for such a long time could cause pain like this. His eyes felt as though they were melting.

Malachi’s voice cut through the pain. “Shut the door, Grimm. For pity’s sake! You know the rules here. I don’t want to see the dank living quarters we keep these poor bastards in any more than necessary.”

Jasper’s eyes hurt, but he forced his hand to his side and blinked rapidly. Sight came back to him then. He was standing in the middle of what appeared to be a rather plush living room. The Troll disappeared into the dungeon, slamming the door behind him with a resounding clang.

He looked down at the warm, hardwood floors beneath his bare feet and flexed his toes in an oversized polar bear fur rug. Leather furniture was arranged around the room with a crystal chandelier hanging above it. The bookcases lining the walls were filled with cloth bound novels, a collection of antique clocks, and decanters brimming with what Jasper assumed was some kind of alcohol.

This wasn’t a dungeon at all, he realized. This was Malachi’s home.

“Am I in your living room?” he asked incredulously.

Malachi smiled from the overlarge recliner he sat in. A smaller white skin was thrown over the top of the chair and cushioned him from behind. “You are indeed.”

“You keep your prisoners in the basement?”

“I find that the closer you are, the faster I can find replacement magic. Should I need it, of course.”

“That’s disgusting.”

Malachi nodded his head towards the chair opposite him. “Please, sit. What are you having to drink?”

“Water.”

“Oh no,” Malachi tsked.