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

it is an important lesson for her to learn.” One of the shadows leaned close to Sil, who remained still and calm. “Darkness always blots out the light.”

“And without the light, darkness is nothing,” Sil’s voice was clear as bells ringing across a courtyard.

“She dares!”

The shadows swirled around her chaotically until Lydia could no longer see Sil. She rushed across the ballroom, hoping she might catch the last bit of the memory before it was gone.

A wall of darkness greeted her. Heart-wrenching fear froze her legs and locked her muscles. She breathed in a steadying breath. She was a ghost in a memory. Nothing could hurt her.

Raising her arms, Lydia plunged into the whirling black.

A bright beam of white light pierced. Sil stood tall and proud in the madness, her hands held loose at her sides. The diamonds in her horns clinked.

Lydia watched her chest expand in a soft sigh. Sil looked up, shook her head, and disappeared.

The shadows disappeared along with her. The Four must have realized their prey had left. Lydia stood in her place.

She glanced over her shoulder and caught the crestfallen expression upon Pitch’s face.

“My love,” his voice was ragged. “I am so sorry.”

There was so much weight in his words. He apologized for his siblings being unable to accept his love. He apologized for not being able to protect Sil. Lydia was also certain there was more to it — that he apologized for existing.

It broke her heart. He was a good man and trying to be a better one for the woman he loved. He brought her before all his people, had eyes for no one but her.

And everything had been ripped away by siblings who didn’t care for him. The long angry edges of darkness plucked at his clothing. His arms jerked side to side as they taunted him.

“I’m sorry, Pitch,” Lydia whispered. “I’m sorry this is your history. I’m sorry you lost her and I’m sorry that you got me instead.”

There was so much more she wanted to say to him. So many more broken pieces she wanted to fit together. But this was a memory, and Pitch could not see her.

Lydia had heard the rumors Pitch now dealt in secrets and drugs. She understood why. The man was made of more things than just flesh and blood.

Her vision grew blurry. Lydia reached inside herself, the golden light of the past grew thin and weak. There was nothing left to hold onto.

Rather than see the torture, Lydia let go of the past and thrust herself back into the uncertain present.

Chapter 8

“Did you have an enlightening journey?”

His smooth voice made her shiver. Her heart rate spiked as she set the book down onto her lap.

“Busted,” Lydia replied.

“Yes. Busted.”

She looked at the doorway of his study. Pitch leaned against the frame, his arms crossed firmly over his chest. The black silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned and tucked at his waist, leaving almost his entire chest open to her view. Dusty gray slacks hugged tight to his well-shaped thighs. Tonight, he wore a sparkling silver earring that caught her eye.

“You’re dressed up,” she observed. “A special occasion?”

“Which book did you read?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I picked anything I could reach.”

His eyes lifted to the top shelf where a book was clearly missing. “I believe you capable of many things, Lydia, but the wheelchair limits your height.”

“I have my ways.”

He arched an eyebrow and strode toward her. His powerful legs ate up the distance between them and he plucked the book from her grasp. “Ah yes, your ways. Does one of those ways happen to be named Louis?”

Lydia would not give him up that easily. She could still use the man who called himself maid. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I’d love to meet them though.”

“Funny, he had only glowing things to say about you.”

She wanted to curse the cat man. “He must have seen me while I was sleeping then.”

“He had glowing things to say about your voice.”

“Damn it,” she growled, “that cat needs to learn how to still his tongue.”

Pitch slid the book into its place with a firm snap, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “I believe you will find Louis cannot do that.”

His laughter was infectious. Lydia chuckled, “Yes, he seems to enjoy hearing himself speak. He’s not at all like his father. Or at least, not like the man I remember.”

“You had the pleasure of meeting Leo at his best.” Pitch propped an arm against the bookshelf. “There are many women who would likely disagree with you. He was an absolute lady’s man in his prime and always loved to talk.”

“I could see that.”

His hands flexed, but other than that small movement, Pitch was still as stone. His eyes danced over her features, missing nothing. They were twin stones of obsidian tonight. Secrets swirled in their depths, but she had no clue what he was thinking.

She moved her hands from her lap to rest delicately against the arms of the wheelchair. “You never told me what you are dressed up for.”

“I believe that’s called ‘evasion’.”

“And you’re doing it again.”

“There are many reasons for a man to be dressed up.”

“Such as?”

He scoffed. “I have heard there is an old human tradition they call prom. Teenagers go dancing together and likely get into trouble.”

Lydia gasped and clasped her hands to her chest in mock happiness. “You’re taking me to prom? Why, Pitch, that’s always been my dream!”

The smile stretching across his lips made her wince. He was too perfect, too beautiful, and too cold at the same time. It did strange things to her insides when he smiled like that.

He knew. The smile quickly turned into something predatory. He pushed away from the bookshelf and stalked toward her.

Her eyes widened as she watched him lope like a lion stalking its prey. No, not a lion, Lydia decided. He was too lethal for that. There was no creature on earth that could have made her heart quicken as it did