Black Blood (Series of Blood Book 4) by Emma Hamm (scary books to read .TXT) 📕

Lydia chattered away while he dwelled upon the differences. Sil’s voice had been like thunder and lightning, crackling, booming. Lydia’s like softest of bells, the beginning strains of a violin, the jubilation of a hymn.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“I said, I don’t think you’re telling me everything.”

“I’m not.”

“Why would you admit to that?”

“Because I am not lying to you, Lydia.” Pitch did not miss the way she flinched when he spoke her name. “There are some things you do not need to know yet. When it is time, I will tell you willingly. My focus is keeping you alive through your transitions.”

Her brows furrowed the longer he spoke. The firelight danced across her features before she shook her head firmly. “I think I hate you.”

The words lanced through him. They were not unexpected, he had captured her against her will, but they hurt all the same. He was doing everything in his power to make her comfortable. He was kind to her. Surely, there was some gratitude owed?

Echoes of her voice played through his head and fed his anger. She had no right. She shouldn’t be so ungrateful. She shouldn’t hate him.

A snarl escaped his lips as he surged forward. Both his arms bracketed her against the couch she shrank into. Cloudlike billows of darkness swirled around them and his teeth grew sharp against his lips. Shadows coiled through his form until he was little more than a monster.

“Never forget this, darling,” his words sounded tainted with violence and anger, but his touch upon her forehead was soft. Shadows petting a creature made of light, “it is only my touch which will ease your pain.”

“For how much longer?” she asked him. “How much longer before I come into my own, and you are not the only thing providing me some kind of relief?”

“For as long as I wish it.”

Her lips curled into a snarl that rivaled his own. “I think you are some kind of demon.”

“I have advice for you then,” his shadows grew so large they were swimming around her throat as if she were in a pool of black water. “Don’t try to tame demons with pretty words or batting eyelashes. Keep them close, keep them in a cage if you must, but keep them wild.”

“Why would I do that?” She swallowed hard. “It seems more reasonable to destroy them, before they bite the hand which feeds.”

“Someday you will need a demon to do your dirty work.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You always have, darling.” Pitch pulled his shadows away from her milk white skin. “Because the things we’re going to do are so dark they will turn your soul cold. Our future is not a bright thing. Not until we walk through Hell first.”

He swept from the room, leaving her curled in a ball because he could no longer look upon her as she condemned him. Not when he knew she was the only person who could tear his soul apart.

Chapter 4

She lay on her bed staring at the sparkling ceiling. Had she been here for weeks? Or months? The passage of time was difficult to calculate when she was in such agony.

Thankfully, her body’s changes had slowed. She could think like a normal person again. Except thoughts lead down dangerous paths. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the webs of time.

They made little sense. There was no one capable of explaining to her how she should walk the paths. Lydia frequently wandered aimlessly until Pitch shook her awake with frantic hands.

The dark man never let her forget to eat. He alone could bring her from the visions. His cold touch was soothing. Lydia did not know when she had become so attached to him.

She was afraid of the visions. She was afraid of becoming lost in the Future and not being able to find her way back. Somehow, he always pulled her from those tangled strings. He held her in his arms as her body shook and her mind reeled. And when she finally calmed, he spoon fed whatever food he could get into her.

He was kind, in his own way. He continued to refuse her any contact with her friends. She had been gone so long, Lydia was certain they thought her dead.

She winced and ran her fingers up to the prominent antlers which now curved out of her head. Perhaps it was better they thought her in the ground. At least they wouldn’t see her like this.

Not that she had seen herself yet. Pitch still refused to allow her any access to mirrors. She fought against his decision, but he did not want to upset her.

It only served to make her think she looked worse than the image her mind had conjured. At least she had felt no fur growing. Yet.

“Why me?” She whispered. Lydia had never given up attempting to speak to the spirit inside her although she agreed it was likely not there. “Why did you force me into this form? Into this path I do not understand?”

The silver creature inside her answered for the first time.

Lydia lost her sight. She burned from the inside out as she traveled down the webs of time. She saw intricate lace folding and bending in on itself. Every tiny thread an individual choice although some threads were much thicker as they required many people to make the same choice.

This much she understood. How to effect these choices had proven to be much more difficult.

Speeding through time, she raced down large tendrils that threatened the end of the world. Down the thinnest of threads that led to happiness for a single person, or more sorrow than she could comprehend.

Finally, she slowed. Lydia knew she had been guided to this place, this instant in time she needed to see.

The shadows returned. Dangerous creatures with black minds and evil hearts. They stood all around her with torches in their hands. Panic. Fear. Betrayal.

“What do I do?” she pled. “I do not want to watch