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

bronze skeleton key, now resting in the corner of the cell. A key? Of course.

Jasper spun towards Pitch. “What do you want in return?”

“A favor.”

“Which is?”

“Don’t know yet,” Pitch replied. “I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

“That seems risky to agree to.”

“You’ve already got the key. You can tell me no.”

Saying no wasn’t an option, and Pitch must know that. Jasper had an inflated sense of honor, and Pitch liked to take advantage of that. A favor was owed. And a favor would be given.

“Fine,” Jasper growled. “But if you ask me to kill someone I will make you regret it.”

“When have I ever suggested that I would need you to kill someone?”

“We all know your line of work.”

Pitch snorted. “If I needed someone to do my dirty work, I wouldn’t have the reputation I have, would I?”

It was a fair point. The stories about Pitch were legendary. No one knew where he came from, only that he could kill with shadows. Rumors said he was a silent killer. He arrived in darkness and rode it like a Horseman of the Apocalypse.

Light didn’t help. There was no shield that would hold Pitch at bay. The more light there was, the stronger his shadows were. Darkness grew from light. If a man was marked by Pitch for death, then he would most assuredly die.

There was no sanctuary from the Shadow Man.

“Thank you,” Jasper relented. “The help is appreciated.”

“I’m sure it is,” Pitch said sarcastically.

The shadows rolled over the floor and climbed the iron bars to hang above Mercy’s cell. Jasper gritted his teeth as the overwhelming urge to protect rose within him again. He shouldn’t worry, Pitch would never harm Mercy.

The bastard always had a soft spot for women. Case in point, the shadows trickled down the edges of the iron bars. They darkened the shadows already existing in her small space, small tendrils of ink tucking her hair behind her ears.

“This is her, then?” Pitch asked.

“Her name is Mercy. She’s the one Malachi sent me to collect.”

“Oh, I couldn’t care less about that. I’m more interested that she’s the one fulfilling the prophecy.”

Jasper’s breath caught in his throat. “Pardon?”

“You didn’t make that connection yet?” The shadows bounced as though they were laughing. “Oh Jasper, your world is so limited. Look at her. Forgotten in moss is the creature that sees, One who destroys, ruins, and decrees.”

“None of that suggests a Phoenix.”

“Well, she was certainly forgotten in moss for a very long time. A little known fact of the Phoenix is that they used to be capable of foreseeing the future in their flames. Of course, she’s very young. Perhaps she doesn’t know that yet.”

Jasper couldn’t imagine that this angry creature would save the world. She was too destructive. Too volatile. Hell, she had been locked up for two hundred years. She wasn’t ready to take on that much responsibility.

“I’m sure you’re wrong.” Jasper shook his head. “She can’t be.”

“Suit yourself. Did you hit her with Fairy Dust?”

“Yes,” Jasper said while gritting his teeth.

“You know that stuff is dangerous on certain species.”

“I know.”

“As in, she’s going to wake up even angrier than she was before.”

“I told her to wake up calm.”

The shadows danced again. “You foolish man! Do you not understand women at all? Calm is the worst kind of anger for a woman. You’re going to need all the luck in the world with this one.”

Jasper blinked, and suddenly, Pitch was gone. The shadows had returned to normal, and his headache disappeared. He could almost believe the entire interaction had not happened.

He looked down. The little bronze key was still next to his foot, so it couldn’t have been a dream.

Should he use it? Jasper searched the prison, but it did not appear there were any guards around. They did not have regular rounds so any attempt at escape would need to be quick.

“You should definitely use it. I like that man.”

“Pitch?”

“Well, he’s rather pretty.”

He didn’t have time to argue with Bluebell. He stooped to pick up the key. The metal was cold against his palm and solidified his immediate future. If he so wished, he could get out of his cell.

He supposed, in the end, that this was not the time for questioning Pitch’s charity. Now was the time for action.

“Ella?” he whispered. “Ella, are you awake?”

He heard her stir in her cell. “Now I am. Why?”

“I can get us out of here.”

“You keep saying that.” Her voice was thick with sleep. “But we both know that there is no way for us to leave.”

“I have a key.”

She sat up straight, her hair a nest of thistledown puffed around her shocked expression. Jasper watched as she struggled to her feet and pressed close to his cell.

“Where did you get a key?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He couldn’t tell her that Pitch had given it to him. His was a household name made of nightmares and horror stories. “I have a key, and I can get us out.”

“Do you have a key for your cell or all of them?”

He didn’t know. He looked down and turned the skeleton key in his hand. The skull at its base grinned at him.

“I don’t know.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

There wasn’t any reason for him to wait. Jasper lurched towards the door and reached for the lock. Iron burned his bicep as he awkwardly angled his arm towards the padlock. It was out of his reach, his bicep too large to give him enough room to twist the key.

He grunted in frustration. This was already a losing mission. Why had Pitch given him a key if he couldn’t even reach the damn lock.

“I can’t fit. If I throw it to you, can you get your arm through?”

“I’m small, Jasper, but my bars are even closer than yours. I’d need to be a child to fit through that space.”

The key vibrated in his hand. As he glanced down, words appeared on the aged bronze.

Teleport.

“I can’t teleport,” he told it. “The iron prevents me.”

The words