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

can’t imagine it would mind all that much. The World Tree isn’t a prison. Likely, it doesn’t want whatever is caught in its branches.”

What? “Bluebell, English please.”

“It’s like a toothache,” she said, exasperated. “I’m sure it would rather have whatever is stuck in its teeth removed.”

Now, that he could work with. If he thought that the World Tree would like what he did, then he would do it.

Jasper reached down and grasped a few of the branches between the strands of hair. He was big enough that one powerful yank snapped the smallest limbs.

A few more tugs and at least the hair was free, but some of the branches stubbornly stayed twisted around the fine tresses. Veins stood out on his arms as he threw his entire weight into a final pull. Breathing heavily, he looked down, and his heart stopped beating.

It was a woman. Oh gods, it was a woman.

She appeared to be sleeping. Or dead. Her face so still and serene he had no way of knowing which it was.

The woman’s full, red lips were relaxed in a sweet bow. Her sun-tanned skin was impossible for someone so long buried, but seemed to compliment her aristocratic nose and heart shaped face. Her hair fanned out around her head like living flames, sparkling in the waning sunlight.

“Oh,” Bluebell whispered. “She’s so beautiful.”

He agreed. Wholeheartedly. Jasper had never seen a creature more beautiful in his life — including Lyra, whom he had put on a pedestal of gold. While Lyra was a dark thing made for shadows, this woman blazed like a beacon.

Her body was encased in tangled branches and leaves, as though in a shallow grave. Jasper leaned back onto his heels and searched for an easier way to free her. The tree had grown around her body too tightly for him to continue ripping it.

Unfortunately, no easy alternative was apparent. Hours of back breaking work laid out before him, and he didn’t know how much time he had. There had to be another nightmare waiting for him.

“Any ideas?” he asked Bluebell. “Otherwise, we’re going to be here for a while.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“I think she’s a little indisposed, don’t you?”

“I think she’s waking up.”

He could hardly be angry at the self important tone. The Fairy was right. He hadn’t heard it immediately, but once it was pointed out he could hear the woman’s slow exhale. It was a death rattle at first, a wheezing breath that spoke of plague and fire. Then it eased until he could barely hear her at all.

Getting her out of the earthen prison was suddenly secondary to making certain she didn’t panic. He didn’t want her to lose her head when she realized a large, strange man was digging her out of a tree. What if she didn’t remember where she was?

Jasper leaned forward and placed a hand against her cheek.

“Breathe,” he murmured. “Take it one step at a time. Breathe in and out until you don’t have to think about it anymore.”

As soon as he stopped talking, she opened her eyes, and he was the one who was breathless. She did not have yellow eyes, as humans often had these days. Nor were they red slashes of color, like Malachi’s. They contained all the colors of a vibrant sunset — pink, red, orange, splashes of heat and fire. Sunset eyes, he realized. He had never seen their likeness.

She stared up at him, silent and calm. Not even a whimper slipped through her lips. Her unusual eyes locked upon his, questions darkening her gaze.

“What are you?” he asked quietly. He had never seen such a creature of fire and flames.

Before he received his answer, the world around them melted away along with her casket of branches and dirt. The three soldiers he had arrived with stood next to them. They appeared like ghosts, silent and immensely dangerous.

He had only a few moments to notice the rune stone held in the Dragon’s hand. The glowing red mark sizzled with unnatural heat. A stone to return them, so it seemed. Malachi had played him once again. Jasper curled around the woman, shielding her with his body until a hard strike against his skull stole his consciousness.

5

Jasper groaned and rolled to his side, eyes stuck together from sleep. He wished he could wake up just once without his head throbbing with the beat of a drum. Maybe tomorrow morning.

Days of sleep and an entire bottle of whiskey would have solved every problem he currently felt. But he could still feel the hard ground beneath him, meaning he was still locked away like a kenneled dog.

“Jasper? Are you awake?”

The soft voice was familiar. The Unicorn. She shouldn’t be in this hellhole. He was starting to think he had lied to her. Perhaps he wouldn’t be able to get them out of this place after all.

He could have teleported himself out of the maze at any time and would woken up — without the headache — rocking in his hammock. He felt the ground shift in mockery of his desire while Bluebell sang lullabies in his ear.

He gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

“Good. I have news.”

Bluebell grumbled. “The Unicorn says something, and the man jumps into action, but the Fairy shouts and screams for hours, and she gets nothing.”

He opened his bleary eyes and stared at Ella. She was kneeling as close to the iron bars as she could, gesturing for him to move closer.

It proved to be more difficult than he anticipated. Exhaustion had turned his legs to rubber, and Jasper ended up dragging himself towards her. He slumped forward, breathing heavy. “What?”

“You were returned to your cell by strange people I have never seen. A Dragon, a Hellhound, and a Wisp. Malachi said he was going to return soon. If you can convince one of them to provide us with a key—”

“The ones I came back with are guards now?” he interrupted.

“Yes.”

“Then they aren’t going to give us a key.”

She pulled